Read Online Something Wicked by Jillian Sterling - Free Book Online
Authors: Jillian Sterling
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think twice about
creeping up on a woman when you are playing hide and seek in the woods with
someone else."
Finn's face darkened. He started to say something but I
raised my arm, giving him the internationally known talk-to-the-hand gesture.
I turned my back to him and snatched up my undergarments. Shoving
my bikini top and panties in my back pocket, I collected my iced coffee and the
heavy spell book and stalked away from Finn. Once out of his eyeshot, I picked
up the pace. I wasn't interested in coming face-to-face with the girl that was taking
what I could only have in my fantasies.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Amanda must have had an early class and left for campus
already. By the time I got home, her car was gone. Grateful to have the house
to myself for a few hours, I raced up to the attic, locking the door after me,
hoping there was something in my family's old grimoires that would help me
figure out this weird witchcraft.
Grams never told me about this kind of magic.
Plus, I needed something to occupy my mind. My head was a
mess on the entire drive from Diana's Pool. My anger towards Finn faded with
the memory of my orgasmic fantasy. Then my brain would snap back to that
high-pitched voice calling out to him in the woods, and my indignation would
rise again.
Dust particles sparkled in the sunlight streaming through
the old windows as I yanked several old grimoiresoff the rickety wooden
shelves. Sneezing, I slumped to the floor and opened the one on top of the
pile. It was a great-great-someone's book, the pages brittle and yellowed. The
family member that this spell book belonged to must have been a teacher.
Written in red pen, her handwriting was precise. The witchcraft was
interspersed between various food recipes, and the overabundance of aspic told
me that this was from the 1950s. Suzy Homemaker Witch was definitely not an X-rated
June Cleaver. I pushed it aside.
Finding nothing in the first six books I grabbed, I snatched
a few more off the shelf and leafed through those. There was an amorous
relative from the late 19 th Century, who kept her Book of Shadows
more like a diary, sketching in amusing images of her beloved. While it
detailed some of their frisky romps (in eye popping detail) with a willing
group of other witches, it said nothing about using the acts to cast any
spells.
There was a hard knock on the attic door, and I jumped up
from surprise.
"What?" I yelled, expecting Amanda to yell back
about having lunch or something.
"Hey, can I come in?" Finn responded, and I heard
him try the doorknob.
I froze.
"We need to talk," he continued after my short
unresponsive pause.
I found my voice. "Now is not a good time, Finn."
I wasn't lying. I didn't bother changing after Diana's Pool,
so I was still in my damp shorts and tank top, sans under garments. The ease of
removing them did not escape me. And there was a very good chance that I would
if Finn walked through that door right now.
"Come on, Iz," he kicked at the door. "It's
important."
"How about later?" I called back.
"I'm working later, and so are you," he huffed.
"Where's your girlfriend?" I immediately cringed
at how pathetic that sounded.
"She's not my..." his voice trailed off and the
picked up again, this time louder. "Come on, Iz, open the door."
I closed my eyes, escaping back into my Finn Fantasy. Blood
raced to my nether regions and my boobs betrayed me, nips perking up at simply
the sound of his husky voice. My pussy ached. "Seriously Finn, I just cannot
stop what I am doing at the moment."
I snapped the book shut in frustration, and dust flew up
into my face. That kicked off the sneezing fit.
"You okay?" he called.
"I'm fine!" I shouted through my snot. "I am
in the middle of something and even though you disapprove of it, it's important
that I figure this thing out."
"Fine, Iz." Now he sounded annoyed. "Just
come to the bar later, we need to talk."
"You said that already," I muttered to myself
before switching my tone from
creeping up on a woman when you are playing hide and seek in the woods with
someone else."
Finn's face darkened. He started to say something but I
raised my arm, giving him the internationally known talk-to-the-hand gesture.
I turned my back to him and snatched up my undergarments. Shoving
my bikini top and panties in my back pocket, I collected my iced coffee and the
heavy spell book and stalked away from Finn. Once out of his eyeshot, I picked
up the pace. I wasn't interested in coming face-to-face with the girl that was taking
what I could only have in my fantasies.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Amanda must have had an early class and left for campus
already. By the time I got home, her car was gone. Grateful to have the house
to myself for a few hours, I raced up to the attic, locking the door after me,
hoping there was something in my family's old grimoires that would help me
figure out this weird witchcraft.
Grams never told me about this kind of magic.
Plus, I needed something to occupy my mind. My head was a
mess on the entire drive from Diana's Pool. My anger towards Finn faded with
the memory of my orgasmic fantasy. Then my brain would snap back to that
high-pitched voice calling out to him in the woods, and my indignation would
rise again.
Dust particles sparkled in the sunlight streaming through
the old windows as I yanked several old grimoiresoff the rickety wooden
shelves. Sneezing, I slumped to the floor and opened the one on top of the
pile. It was a great-great-someone's book, the pages brittle and yellowed. The
family member that this spell book belonged to must have been a teacher.
Written in red pen, her handwriting was precise. The witchcraft was
interspersed between various food recipes, and the overabundance of aspic told
me that this was from the 1950s. Suzy Homemaker Witch was definitely not an X-rated
June Cleaver. I pushed it aside.
Finding nothing in the first six books I grabbed, I snatched
a few more off the shelf and leafed through those. There was an amorous
relative from the late 19 th Century, who kept her Book of Shadows
more like a diary, sketching in amusing images of her beloved. While it
detailed some of their frisky romps (in eye popping detail) with a willing
group of other witches, it said nothing about using the acts to cast any
spells.
There was a hard knock on the attic door, and I jumped up
from surprise.
"What?" I yelled, expecting Amanda to yell back
about having lunch or something.
"Hey, can I come in?" Finn responded, and I heard
him try the doorknob.
I froze.
"We need to talk," he continued after my short
unresponsive pause.
I found my voice. "Now is not a good time, Finn."
I wasn't lying. I didn't bother changing after Diana's Pool,
so I was still in my damp shorts and tank top, sans under garments. The ease of
removing them did not escape me. And there was a very good chance that I would
if Finn walked through that door right now.
"Come on, Iz," he kicked at the door. "It's
important."
"How about later?" I called back.
"I'm working later, and so are you," he huffed.
"Where's your girlfriend?" I immediately cringed
at how pathetic that sounded.
"She's not my..." his voice trailed off and the
picked up again, this time louder. "Come on, Iz, open the door."
I closed my eyes, escaping back into my Finn Fantasy. Blood
raced to my nether regions and my boobs betrayed me, nips perking up at simply
the sound of his husky voice. My pussy ached. "Seriously Finn, I just cannot
stop what I am doing at the moment."
I snapped the book shut in frustration, and dust flew up
into my face. That kicked off the sneezing fit.
"You okay?" he called.
"I'm fine!" I shouted through my snot. "I am
in the middle of something and even though you disapprove of it, it's important
that I figure this thing out."
"Fine, Iz." Now he sounded annoyed. "Just
come to the bar later, we need to talk."
"You said that already," I muttered to myself
before switching my tone from
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