Hex and the Single Witch (3 page)

Clarabelle laughed. “Guess what?”

“What?” Brody had no idea what she was going to say, but she was smiling.

She took his hand and guided it between her thighs. When he tried to pull away, she smiled again. “Trust me.”

He relaxed and was surprised to feel a protuberance where her clit should have been. Like a small cock.

“Guess what else I can do?” Suddenly, pretty little Clarabelle was as large and brawny as Brody. He could see the evidence of her fairy heritage in the strong, male features. “Not many people know it, but Valentine fairies are dual-sexual. I was wondering how to tell you, or if I should tell you.”

“By Odin,” he exclaimed and continued his exploration between the thickly muscled thighs. The cock had grown, too.

Brody closed his hand around the heavy shaft and slid his hand back and forth along the length.

“We’re not,” the shemale-like creature gasped, “very monogamous either.”

“You don’t have to be,” Brody whispered as he traced the newly hard line of jaw with his tongue and kissed Clarabelle with a newfound desire.

Brody sank to his knees and pushed up the skirt. He shoved aside the pink lacy knickers, entranced by the stark contrast of the masculine and the feminine. He found he liked the juxtaposition very much.

“Shit, Brody. Coriander Wormwood is right over—”

Brody wasn’t listening. He’d suckled the swollen flesh into his mouth, tongued it, worshipped it. The salt of the pre cum tasted like cherries and it spilled onto his tongue. He sucked harder, licked faster, swirled his tongue around the capped head as he worked the long shaft with his fist.

Thick, blunt fingers tangled in his hair and guided him up with a heavy hand to bob up and down on the cock. It made him take more of it than he wanted, but that in itself was a turn-on. He and Valerian had been evenly matched, but Clarabelle, in his male form, was bigger. Stronger. Could take what he wanted from him whether he wanted to give it or not.

His own cock jerked at the thought. It begged for his attention, to be touched, stroked and sucked just as he was doing to Clarabelle’s. The ring of muscles in his ass clenched and his cock jerked again as he imagined the Valentine fairy on all fours for him, that big staff painfully hard with need, jutting not from between masculine thighs but her slender woman’s thighs—her small tits bouncing as he fucked her from behind—the desperate need to spill unanswered. Brody imagined keeping her hard and wanting until he’d had his fill.

He also imagined her doing the same to him. Her hot pink tongue sliding inside his ass, that huge cock to follow... He bobbed faster, took it deeper into his throat. Brody opened his eyes to look up at his lover.

Her dainty wings had become more solid, veiny and bright.

They held her aloft and those muscled thighs came to rest on his shoulders as the fairy’s hips jerked to fuck his mouth.

Brody slipped his hand between them and was surprised to find she still had her female organ. It had simply retreated— small and cloven, like a bisected peach—to make way for the dominance of the male. He worked his first finger inside the slick orifice, then eased his middle finger into her anal cleft.

The Valentine fairy’s cock surged in his mouth at the invasion, but Brody didn’t stop. He thrust inside both orifices simultaneously and her hot jism filled his mouth. He was pleased it, too, tasted like cherry candy.

Clarabelle sagged against the wall as she floated down, the harsh male features seeming to melt into her feminine form as she struggled to catch her breath. “So I guess maybe you do like me after all.” She gave a breathless giggle.

“Clarabelle!” Coriander Wormwood’s shout shattered their idyll.

Balls
. He didn’t want to deal with his ex’s self-righteous cousin at the moment. He licked his lips and savoured the last taste of Clarabelle.

The fairy righted her skirt. “You know, she’s not going to leave you or me alone until you talk to Caraway and at least offer some kind of explanation.” She flipped up her skirt to flash him. “You can have this again when you get back.” Then she pushed him away. “Now get out of here, unless you want to deal with Coriander.”

She was right. Caraway would never call off the harpies until she got an explanation. With a heavy sigh, he admitted to himself that she deserved one. Cara was a good witch— she’d put up with a lot of shit from him and he’d not treated her well at all. Brody was still afraid to tell her the truth.

Fuck, was he a troll or a man? He was a troll. He’d troll up and lay it out on the table like he should have to start with.

Brody’d done the same with Clarabelle and it had got him precisely what he wanted.

He reasoned he owed it to her, especially since she was making a fool of herself with Morningstar—he went through lovers faster than a twice moon-cursed witch went through tampons.

Although he could see the attraction of the heir to all Evil.

He most certainly could.

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* * * *

“So, you and Bendopolous have fallen out?” Morningstar asked after the rest of the students had left for the evening.

“And what’s it to you?” Caraway tossed her head in defiance of whatever plot he’d hatched in his Infernal brain.

“It’s nothing to me, but obviously everything to you.” He stepped into the sallow light of the candelabra, the dingy colour of the tallow light somehow making his dark countenance even more perfect.

Not that she noticed he was perfect, or handsome, or...

“Shove off. All you ever do is talk about Bendopolous. Why don’t
you
fuck him?”

“Not my thing.” Alexander shrugged, unfazed by the insinuation. He reclined nonchalantly in the seat next to her.

“But you—you might be my thing.” He eyed her appreciatively.

“Only because I was dating Bendopolous,” she retorted, though secretly the idea thrilled her and she could feel the flush that started with the heat between her thighs and was quickly scorching up her body to her face. She turned on him, irritated he’d affected her so. “Morningstar is too grand for the likes o’ poor wittle Wormwood,” she mocked.

“So you know your place. That’s good, Caraway, girl. We can work with that.” He smirked.

Caraway brought her hand across the lean marble of his cheek, her palm imprinting itself with an angry red stain.

If Caraway thought Morningstar would be motivated to violence, she was mistaken. Because he laughed. The bastard actually laughed.

“Keep that up, little girl, and I will have to take you over my knee for a proper spanking.”

Another instance where a threat held so much promise.

What would she do if he did haul her over his knee? Probably squirm against him until she came.

“Like Hell you will,” a familiar voice interrupted.

“Brody,” Caraway said, stunned.

“Ah, yes, Bendopolous. Come to save your lady? I’ll wager
she
packs a harder punch.”

“Shut it, Morningstar,” Caraway snapped.

“Shut it for me,” he challenged. “Maybe that’s how you could work off your demerits, little witch. You can figure out exactly what you have to do to get me to stop talking. Will it be your mouth, your breasts or the sweetness of your pussy?”

His sly gaze slid to Brody. “Oh, don’t like that, do you, Bendopolous? You don’t want her, so why does it bother you so much that I do?”

Brody was strangely silent. What was he doing there, anyway? Could he actually be jealous?

“Cat got your tongue, Bendopolous? Visions of your darling Caraway shutting it for me, eh?” Alexander smirked.

Caraway had to hand it to him. Morningstar was an Olympic manipulator. He knew which buttons to push, how often and how hard.

“As a matter of fact, I was still envisioning the mouth-shutting. But it had more to do with me than with Caraway.”

Caraway’s mouth fell open like a large-mouthed bass hanging with a hook in its cheek. The words had echoed in her ears, passed across firing synapses into the language portion of her brain, but she still couldn’t fathom the sounds that had just left her ex-boyfriend’s mouth.

Brody wanted to fuck Alexander.

Had she heard that right? It wasn’t possible. The big chauvinist footballer troll and—She blinked like an owl that had fallen into a keg of dragon’s blood ale. No. It couldn’t be.

Could it?

Alexander cocked his head to the side and considered Brody as he would a fat tick. “Have you lost your mind, Bendopolous?” He sounded genuinely curious.

Caraway blushed, but it was more of a crimson fury than anything. “Well,
Bendopolous
.” She sneered the name as Alexander had only moments before. “I was just telling Alexander, when he was trying to get in my knickers, that he should fuck you. The way you two carry on.” She had to get away from them both, had to process what had just happened. Both her interaction with Morningstar and her bisexual ex-boyfriend.

What pissed her off wasn’t the fact he wanted to be with another man. She was all for people loving and shagging whomever they damned well pleased as long as it was consensual. It was the part where Brody had lied about who he was to her for two years. He’d let her waste her time with him, let her love him, knowing he didn’t love her back and didn’t want the same things she did. Caraway turned towards the door, but Alexander grabbed her wrist and pulled her flush against him.

“Oh, no you don’t. You’re not going anywhere. Unless you don’t want to work off those demerits?”

Bloody damn! She’d been trying to get out of there before Brody could humiliate her further. She’d looked at him and there had been no apology in his eyes—nothing of the Brody she’d known, the bastard. Goddess, why had he lied to her?

Caraway smiled sweetly. “I thought you two boys would like to play by yourselves. Maybe doctor?” She hated the venom that was coming out of her mouth. It made her sound so hurt, so jealous, and even if she was, they didn’t need to know that. She’d have rather kept her pain to herself.

Caraway half expected Alexander to be offended by Brody’s offer, to be bothered. But he was full of surprises.

“Oh-ho, we can’t play doctor without a nurse.”

Caraway had to admit that he’d won that round. She had nothing to say. Nothing at all. She was sure her embarrassment was a palpable thing. Caraway supposed that arguing anything anywhere near the subject of sex with the resident sex god of the University of Magic and Mayhem
would
put her at a disadvantage. Although she couldn’t resist trying—after all, she was a saucy bit of baggage, if she did say so herself.

“Apparently, Brody wants to be the nurse,” she retorted.

“Really, I hadn’t decided,” Brody offered. “You can be the nurse.” He smiled as if the last week hadn’t happened and he hadn’t publicly humiliated her.

“Oh, maybe we can take turns.” Caraway smiled with a sticky sweetness that was obviously insincere.

Brody looked unsure. “If you want to...”

“Am I here? No, really. Are we having this conversation? Aren’t you dating Clarabelle?” She didn’t wait for his answer.

“You’re such an absolute bastard.”

“So, does Brody Bendopolous, the footballer troll, want to share his ex-girlfriend, or does he want to be shared?”

Alexander eyed him with an almost clinical intensity.

“I don’t give a bloody damn, because it’s not going to happen,” Caraway snapped. No, she didn’t want to do this.

She had no interest in doing anything with Brody Bendopolous ever again. Alexander Morningstar was another story. So was the idea of being the hot piece between two powerful men. It was something she’d fantasised about, but in her fantasy both men were focused on her. Not each other, as Brody so obviously would be.

“Why not, Caraway? You know you want me.” Alexander still hadn’t let go of her arm and she didn’t jerk away. She didn’t want to. Coming from anyone else that line would have made her laugh, but somehow, from him, it was a statement.

A fact. She
did
want him.

“Do you really believe all of your own propaganda?” She managed to roll her eyes and kept her features schooled to a mask of boredom.

“Propaganda is based on a lie.” As if that were all the answer that she needed. He turned his attention back to Brody, who still stood in the doorway, quiet and unsure of himself. “Well, Bendopolous. Answer the question. You can’t have what you want unless you ask for it.”

“I don’t know,” he said without looking up.

“Oh, I think you do. You are still a scared little puppy trying to play with the big dogs. If you can’t talk about it, you certainly aren’t going to be able to do it.” Morningstar laughed.

“He can talk all he wants. There is still no way this is going to happen.” Not with Bendopolous, anyway. Maybe with one of Alexander’s warlock friends. Besides, Bendopolous wouldn’t be bound to keep his mouth shut about what happened. One of Morningstar’s sycophants would have no choice about keeping it to himself.

“I think it will.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders and leaned in to her, his breath warm and soft against her ear. “Yeah, it will happen. Bendopolous fucked you just now with that betrayal, and I bet it stung. Wouldn’t you like to watch him get fucked in return?” His fingers held her jaw, the pad of his thumb tracing over to her mouth as it had on the quad. “I heard your breath catch. Does that make you hot, little witch?” He paused to examine her mouth, to bring his lips within touching distance. “Does it make you wet to think I would shag Bendopolous there to get into your damp little knickers? Because I would. I’d bend him over the table right here just so you could watch. Would you touch yourself, watching the pleasure-pain on his face while I fucked him? Or would you join in and demand I lick you to orgasm while I fuck him?”

And, oh, how wet it had made her. She shivered and bit down on her lower lip, imagining the picture he painted, and he laughed again.

“I could have her right here.” Alexander said as he turned his smouldering gaze on Brody, sizing him up.

“What are you offering, Morningstar?” Brody asked him.

“I offer nothing. I’m telling you what I’m going to take.”