All Hallows Eve, Vol. 3

Chapter 2

Two

Whitney

Mischief Night. The night before Halloween where teens party and cause mayhem. Egged cars, toilet-papered trees, and smashed mailboxes will most likely be the fate of many houses in this small college town. Harper and I don’t mind a good party, but destruction isn’t our scene.

In fact, my little goody two-shoes girlfriend is usually on the straight and narrow. I was shocked when I told her I wanted to try a love spell, and she agreed with little protest. Sometimes, she surprises me.

Harper is hard to take my eyes off as she sits cross-legged on our oversized navy chair, writing a list while looking over the potion we found in the book.

Writing. As in pencil and paper because she likes the way it feels. A pencil gliding over a fresh piece of paper is like an aphrodisiac for her. Never a pen. It has to be those silly, expensive pencils with the complicated T name, too.

I am absolutely not complaining. She becomes insatiable whenever she has midterms or finals, and I reap the benefits.

Her black hair shines blue under the fluorescent lights of our dorm room. She’s fucking gorgeous. We met freshman year. Our rooms were across from each other, and one day, she knocked on my door in desperate need of a pencil sharpener. She looked like a junkie needing a hit—gray eyes, wild and panicky, hair a tousled mess on top of her head.

It was finals week before Christmas break, and her pencil sharpener broke. She had no way to take notes. I gave her my electric one and told her she could keep it.

The next morning, looking much more put-together, she knocked on my door again, asking if she could take me to breakfast as a thank you. I gladly accepted being a poor college student. Little did I know my pencil-stressing neighbor was a beautiful bisexual who taught me her ways.

Most people assume I’m the one who corrupted her. I’m the fun, flighty one in our duo, but that’s what makes our relationship solid. She grounds me, and I pull her out of her shell.

“I fucking love you.” Harper looks up from her book and smiles at me.

“I love you too, Whit. I think I found everything we need. The stranger things I cross-referenced on the internet and found comparable substitutes.”

“You’re fucking adorable. Let’s do this!”

We had to make three separate stops to get everything we needed. Various dried herbs, special alkaline water, and a specific flower petal were just a few. We purchased one of those cool stone bowls with the smasher thing that looks like a mini baseball bat, and Harper promised I could do the smashing.

“Do we have everything?”

She pulls out her list and ensures each ingredient has a checkmark— in pencil —next to it.

“One last thing.” I try to look at the list over her shoulder, but she pulls it to her chest.

I frown. “What are we missing since you won’t let me look?”

“This.” Harper wraps her arms around my waist and kisses me. I love the PDA. I want to claim this woman on every mountain and beach I see.

When we pull away, we’re both panting. Harper’s gray eyes shine silver in the lowering sun, and it almost takes my breath away.

“Are we all set? Now what?” It may be my idea, but my little book nerd is in charge.

“Now we go home and put the potion together. At exactly midnight, we drink, and I have a feeling it will be gross. It says our love will be locked together by sunrise.”

“You and me locked together at sunrise. Got it. Oomph . Harp, your elbows are sharp.”

“Don’t you dare wake me up at sunrise attempting to lock something together.”

“But… but…” I jut my bottom lip out, and she rolls her eyes. She loves my dirty humor.

“No.”

“Fiiiiiine. I’m sure it will work how it’s supposed to anyway, and we won’t need to worry about it.”

“I’m sure it will.”

Her answer is laced with sarcasm. I have no expectations for tonight other than having fun and doing it together. And I guess drinking some gross drink with leaves and herbs.

A few hours later, we’re getting dressed in our very appropriate witch costumes. I liked the idea of the irony, and Harper is a good sport. We scavenged through our closets and chose all-black outfits. The simple additions of black pointy hats and some fun makeup complete our outfits.

Our dorm is having trick-or-treating, and although we don’t want to participate in any parties, eating ourselves into a free sugar coma is our idea of fun.

“How long do you think it will take to make our fancy drink?” I lock eyes with her in my desk/vanity mirror as I finish my makeup.

Harper’s face sours. “Fancy drink? That’s one way to put it. But it shouldn’t take long. I think if we’re back by eleven, we’ll have plenty of time.”

“Good.” I blow her a kiss and turn back to the mirror, applying my black lipstick for the full effect. I hear her cross the room and feel her warmth on my shoulder when she approaches me.

“I can’t wait to see that color smeared all over your lips later.” I whip my head back in shock, almost whacking Harper in the face. She isn’t usually a dirty talker, but when she does, it always gets me hot and bothered.

“Woman, we have plans for tonight that don’t include a quickie. Unless you want to forgo the free candy?” It’s hard to protest when her lips skate over my neck.

“Are you sure? There’s plenty of time, and we don’t need to hit every floor.”

She kisses down my neck, and my chair slowly spins under me.

“Harper. You’re not fair.” There’s no conviction to my protest.

“Is that a no?”

Lips brush above my cleavage, exposed from my low-cut top. “It’s never a no.”

“That’s what I thought.”

She sinks to her knees and lifts my skirt, disappearing under the flowy fabric. I jump when a sharp pain radiates up my thigh, followed by her tongue licking away the sting.

“Was that payback for earlier?” A muffled “Mmhmm” comes from between my legs, and she pushes at my knees for better access. I comply and slide down further into the chair, putting my butt on the edge and spreading as far as my thighs allow.

Harper doesn’t let my panties deter her and simply pushes them to the side before rubbing my pussy with her thumb.

“You’re so fucking wet already. You’re always ready for me, Whit.”

She sinks a finger inside at the same time she swirls her tongue around my clit, and I almost buck out of my seat.

“Fuck, Harper. Fuck.” I reach down to grab her hair, and she quickly pulls back.

“Don’t ruin my hair. Keep your hands to yourself.”

An involuntary whimper escapes me, and I grip the arms of the chair harder than necessary. Her tongue is perfection as she teases me inside and out. We know each other’s bodies well by now and can easily decide when we need a quickie or when we can take our time. Harper is obviously sticking to my challenge.

The tingles start deep inside me, and my hands grip the chair even harder, turning my knuckles white. She’s keeping me just on the edge, not giving me the push I need to finish, and I love and hate her at the same time. I know what she wants, and it’s a game of will at this point.

She wants me to beg.

Her tongue teases to the left and right of my clit—just enough to drive me wild. I’m teetering so fucking hard. One good tongue flip will send me flying over the edge. Even her fingers inside me are just out of reach. The words want to spill from my lips, but I’m trying to hold out.

Trying.

Trying.

Tryyyyyying.

“Please. Please, Baby. Please make me come. You’re so fucking gorgeous between my legs. Make me come all over your gorgeous fucking face.”

Slight movements from both her tongue and fingers have me screaming and bucking against her face. She lets me grind against her mouth, extending my orgasm until I’ve had enough.

My mouth gapes open, and my head lulls back, attempting to get air back into my lungs. I’m shamelessly panting when Harper rises to her feet, a huge smile of accomplishment on her face.

“Later, I’ll smear this lipstick.” She places a gentle peck on my lips and walks around my chair. I fucking love her.