Chapter 8

The sounds of Hunter’s backstabbing sister fucking the girl he loved were especially loud tonight - loud enough to hear from his bedroom on the other side of the house. At first, he started to jerk off, but to his shame, he couldn’t stay hard. He was too upset, so he drank instead.

It wasn’t fair. Mom should have taught him magic too. She had said that she tried everything to get him interested but nothing worked. But lots of parents make their kids study piano or violin even when they don’t want to, because they know what benefits it will bring the children later in life. For fuck’s sake, how could a three-year-old make a meaningful decision about the entire direction of his life? No. Mom blamed it on him, but the truth was, ever since Laurel was born, she was Mom’s favorite: heir to the Monroe Witch family legacy.

If Mom had made him learn magic, he could have protected Imogen from Laurel’s supernatural influence. That had to be what it was - it’s not like Laurel was actually interesting in any way. She had always been a neurotic mess, and now she was a petty bisexual whore, too.

Imogen was probably asleep in Laurel’s arms. He’d bet a million dollars that she was. He found himself walking toward Laurel’s bedroom, silently opening the door, and creeping in.

Imogen wasn’t there - just Laurel. Even in her sleep, she kept her glamour up. What kind of narcissistic insecure crap was that? Using magic to make yourself beautiful in a dark, empty room? She was hot as hell, though. All he could see was her face, hair, and one foot but the shape of the blanket promised sexy girl treasures.

Oh fuck - now I’m hard, he realized. She did that with her magic.

He grabbed his crotch, hoping to make the urges stop somehow, but that backfired. His hand felt too good. He pulled his dick out through the fly of his boxers and gave himself a gentle stroke.

He felt guilty looking at her face. It was fucking unfair for her to put him in this position: she was his sister - he wouldn’t have these thoughts without her magic messing with his head. He looked instead at her foot. Just a foot, and yet he was turned on.

She owed him. She owed him a girlfriend to replace the one she had taken from him. Imogen was supposed to be in his bed every night, moaning his name with satisfaction.

He pulled the covers at her feet. If her foot was sexy, he needed a new word for her calf. He wondered what she was wearing and pulled a little more. Her knee was pure sex appeal. He was giving himself a good hard stroking now - not really thinking about it. He pulled more of the covers away. Her thigh! Fuck!

She squirmed. She was probably unconsciously feeling around for the blanket, but it was easy to imagine her moving like that in response to a lover’s touch. His touch. He could make her wiggle or moan or scream as well as any guy could. God, he needed to come. She owed him.

Laurel’s eyes opened and her arm swept out for the blanket. When she made out Hunter’s shape standing over her, she looked puzzled for just an instant, and then she screamed. It was the loudest, shrillest sound he’d ever heard in his life. The noise stopped as she inhaled, but then she was screaming some more: “GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!”

Hunter dashed out into the hall and shoved his dick into his shorts just before passing his dad coming to check on her.

Nobody said a word during breakfast. Hunter was surprised that James hadn’t read him the riot act. Imogen didn’t seem to have a clue what was going on but didn’t want to rock the boat.

Just as soon as James left for work, Hunter sat in front of Laurel and spoke purposefully. “Look, I’m sorry about last night. But it’s your fault.”

Laurel pouted and huffed indignantly. “Hmph - Dad already gave me the blame-the-victim routine. I’m being ‘careless with my magic’ or whatever.”

“Yeah! Damn right!” Hunter said, surprised his dad had taken his side. “You knew I had feelings for Imogen, but you magically seduced her just to spite me!”

“Hunter...,” Imogen said, dripping with kindness, “it was never going to happen between you and me. You know I love you as a friend, but I just can’t see you that way.”

“You’re just saying that because of her love spell,” he told her. “You don’t know how this works - she’s just indiscriminately putting out this love-me-and-fuck-me-aura that’s messing with the mind of every man, woman, and child within ten miles.”

Laurel sneered. “There’s no such thing as a ‘love-me-and-fuck-me-aura’. All I do is make myself pretty - that’s it. It’s just so I can compete on a level field with other girls.”