The Djinn Read online

  Mentally, Elise shrugged. It was precisely because Lonnie was a player that she'd chosen him. Surely he had enough sexual experience to be a decent lover—she hoped. It didn't necessarily follow that, just because a man was a pure whore, he was actually adept at his favorite pastime. As often as not they were too self-centered and conceited to actually learn anything from their many encounters. They expected their ‘oh so beautiful’ self to be turn on enough.

  By the time their dinner arrived, Elise had polished off one drink and was working on a second. It occurred to her that she might be just a little too relaxed—Lonnie's banter had become amazingly witty—but she dismissed it.

  She was a little surprised when she discovered she'd finished off her second drink. She never, ever, had more than two. Two mixed drinks were enough to go to her head. She realized she'd just eaten, however, and that that probably had offset the alcohol. It probably wouldn't hurt to have just one more.

  “You're drunk,” Lonnie said after a while, grinning.

  Elise smiled back at him. “No ... OK, well, maybe a little."

  “I should take you home. I don't think you should drive."

  Elise frowned. “What about my car?"

  “I'll bring you back in the morning to pick it up."

  That sounded reasonable enough. Elise wasn't entirely happy about leaving the car, but she decided he was probably right about her not driving. She'd had three drinks, after all, and she wasn't used to drinking. “I couldn't impose! I can just call a taxi."

  Lonnie got up and helped her to her feet. “We can talk about it tomorrow."

  Elise nodded, leaning against him and giggling because it took her a couple of minutes to get her balance. “I think I drank too much,” she confided in him in a loud whisper as he guided her out the door and into the parking lot once more.

  He chuckled. “Think so?"

  “Two's my limit. I shoulda stopped at two.” She was a little confused when he helped her into the front seat of his SUV. “Where are we going?” she asked when he climbed into the driver's seat.

  “I'm taking you home."

  “Oh,” she said, disappointed. “Why don't we go to a club instead? I haven't danced in forever."

  He grimaced. “I have to work tomorrow."

  She thought about it several moments. “I do too ... I think."

  “You might want to call in sick,” he suggested as he started the vehicle and backed out of his parking space.

  She thought she might have dozed off. It only seemed to take a few moments before he pulled to a stop before her house. “It's my house!” she said in surprise.

  He laughed. “You might be a little drunker than I thought."

  She smiled at him. “I feel very relaxed, though."

  “I'll just bet you do. Give me your keys."

  Elise looked at him in surprise. “Why?"

  “So I can open your door for you."

  “Oh!” She handed him her purse. She didn't feel like looking for the keys herself. “Hope the djinn's not there."

  Lonnie helped her from the car, slipped an arm around her and walked her toward her door. “I think you've had enough gin for one night."

  Elise giggled. “Not Gin, dummy. Djinn. But you're right! Had enough!” She tripped over the threshold, but she was pleased to see that she'd regained much of her equilibrium. She managed to catch herself without falling. “Loose board,” she pointed out. No sense in letting Lonnie trip over it too.

  He dropped her purse and keys on the hall table, then grasped her around the waist and pulled her close. She snuggled against him, breathing in his scent. “Mmm. You smell good!"

  He tipped her chin up and covered half her face with his mouth. Panic seized her when she realized she couldn't breathe because he was blocking her nostrils. She struggled a moment, finally managed to free her nose and relaxed fractionally. His kiss was hot, wet and ... not terribly pleasant. Men were such bad kissers, she reflected with a touch of irritation.

  John had been good at it, though.

  Raheem was very, very good at it. Just thinking about the way he'd kissed her brought her body throbbing to life and she kissed Lonnie back with more enthusiasm.

  Unfortunately, it didn't last. Lonnie's kiss was nothing at all like Raheem's and she couldn't make herself believe that it was. She felt her body cooling. Concentrating, she focused on her own pleasure.

  She was just beginning to actually enjoy herself when he broke the kiss and started to nibble a path down her throat. There was a wet circle of saliva all the way around her lips. Surreptitiously, she nudged her face against his shoulder. It felt better, but now one side was wet and the other dry. When he reached her breast, she turned her head on his shoulder, wiping her lips, chin and the other side of her face.

  She wasn't certain why she opened her eyes. She was starting to feel a pleasant glow and it was easier to maintain it with her eyes closed, but something made her open her eyes.

  Raheem was standing directly behind them, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression as dark as a thundercloud.

  Chapter Seven

  Elise stiffened, her eyes widening. Abruptly, her alcoholic and physical haze of euphoria withered, but it took several moments for her own anger to set in. She made a shooing motion at him. His eyes narrowed.

  'Go away,’ she mouthed the words.

  Lonnie had noticed she didn't seem to be responding to his efforts. He looked up at her. The motion alerted her and she looked down, smiled, shooing at Raheem behind his back.

  “I think I could use another drink. What about you?"

  “You got beer?"

  She frowned. “Uh ... no, but I got the fixings to make strawberry daiquiris."

  He didn't look too enthusiastic. “Sure. I'll mix. In the kitchen?"

  Raheem was still standing behind him. She closed her eyes as Lonnie turned and headed for the kitchen. When nothing happened, she opened one eye a crack. Raheem was standing in the same spot as before but had turned to watch Lonnie as he headed for the kitchen. Elise looked at him in surprise. “He can't see you?” she whispered.

  Raheem turned at her question, gave her a once over look. “Why have you brought this ... worm here?"

  Elise was first taken aback, and then angry. “Mind your own business, damn it! And go away."

  “Did you say something?” Lonnie called from the kitchen.

  “Did you find the mix?” she said, gritting her teeth at Raheem when he refused to vanish.

  “Yeah. Did you move the mixer?"

  “Appliance garage in the corner."

  “He knows his way around your house,” Raheem said accusingly.

  “He's been here a couple—that's none of your business!"

  He studied her a long moment and finally folded his arms across his chest and bowed. “As you wish."

  He vanished just as Lonnie came back with two glasses. Relieved, Elise smiled at him invitingly. “Music?"

  “Sure. I'll pick something out."

  Elise rolled her eyes when he handed her a glass and turned toward the stereo. Halfway across the room, he tripped, sloshing his daiquiri in his face as he tried to catch himself. “Shit!"

  “Oh! I'll get you a towel!” Elise said quickly as he brushed angrily at the slushy ice dripping from his face and down his shirt.

  As she was returning from the bathroom with a towel, she rounded the corner toward the living room just in time to see Raheem materialize above Lonnie's shoulder. Lonnie, she saw in dismay, had set his drink down on the stereo cabinet and was bent over at the waist, holding his shirt out from his body. Raheem flicked the glass. “No!” Elise shouted, but it was too late, the glass teetered for a moment and fell, splashing ice cold daiquiri down Lonnie's back.

  Lonnie let out a high pitched yelp as the slush spilled down his neck and back. Raheem sent her a cat-that-ate-the-cream smile and disappeared once more.

  Elise was still glaring at the space he'd so lately occupied when Lonnie looked up
at her.

  “Hey! It wasn't my fault! I swear, I set that glass squarely on the shelf there. Must have bumped it with my elbow.... This shit is freezing!"

  “Here. Let me help you take that shirt off,” Elise said, surging forward.

  Lonnie complied and took the towel from her. “Mind if I hose off? This shit is sticky as hell."

  “No. Go ahead. I'll rinse this out and toss it in the dryer for you. The bathroom is just down the hall. Second door on the left."

  He waggled his brows at her. “Want to join me?"

  Elise smiled with an effort. She was on the point of refusing when it dawned on her that she'd forbidden Raheem the bathroom. They could have privacy.... “Sure, but I need to rinse this and get it in the dryer."

  “I'll leave the door open. Don't be long,” he added with a sultry smile.

  Raheem was sitting cross legged on the dryer when Elise turned from rinsing the shirt out at the laundry sink. She gave him a look. “Just what do you think you're doing?"

  He spread his hands wide. “As you see."

  “Don't play innocent with me!” Elise said crossly. “You're ... interfering with my life. You tripped him. I know it was you."

  Raheem shrugged. “He is a clumsy oaf."

  Elise tossed the shirt into the dryer and then leaned around him to turn it on. “He's not clumsy."

  “He's a worm!"

  Elise plunked her hands on her hips. “He's a stud! Everybody thinks so."

  Raheem pointed in the direction of the bathroom. “That ... scrawny excuse for a male?"

  “Just because he's not big as an ox, like you?” Elise demanded, outraged. “He's a ... desirable man. And I feel like getting laid, damn it! And it's none of your business anyway!"

  His eyes narrowed. “What is this, ‘getting laid'?"

  Elise blushed. Obviously, there was more alcohol in her system than she'd realized. “Never mind! Suffice to say you are not welcome here ... definitely not right now."

  “You mean to lie with this man,” Raheem snarled.

  Elise's eyes narrowed. “I don't have to explain myself to you and anyway, not being human, it's not something you're likely to understand."

  “My understanding is superior."

  Elise drew a deep breath, turned and stalked away. She'd reached the door of the bathroom before it occurred to her that Raheem had her so pissed off, she'd lost her ‘hard on'. Stopping, she muttered a few choice curses, trying to calm herself and relax.

  Abruptly, the door slammed to. Elise stared at it blankly, thinking, at first, that Lonnie had slammed it.

  Grasping the door knob, she discovered that it wouldn't turn at about the same moment she heard a yelp and a thud from the other side. She put her ear to the door. “Lonnie?"

  A groan answered her and she turned. Raheem was standing behind her, his arms crossed, fury etched in every feature. “Open the damned door!"

  His eyes narrowed. “No."

  Elise stamped her foot, growling in frustration. “What did you do to Lonnie?"

  “He will live. His cock will be of no use to him, however."

  Elise felt her jaw go slack. “You didn't....!"

  He shrugged, turned to look in the direction of the shower, as if he could see through the wall. After a moment, he looked at her again.

  “He sounds like he's hurt. You could at least let me in to help him."

  “He is gone. He can nurse his crooked member himself."

  Frustrated and angry, Elise reached out to push him away. To her stunned surprise—since he was in the habit of vanishing when she tried to touch him—she encountered solid flesh. He didn't budge an inch. He did grab her wrists, however, his grip bruising.

  She winced as pain shot through her arms and he released her immediately. Instead of moving away, however, he plunked his fists on his hips and leaned toward her until they were almost nose to nose. “You will not bring that worm here again."

  More intimidated than she was willing to admit, Elise returned his angry look with one of indignation. “I'll do as I damn well please! It's my house ... and my body! If I want to get laid, I will—with whomever I desire!"

  She turned to move past him. In the next moment, she found herself flat on her back on the bed, Raheem above her, still rigid with anger. He made a brushing motion over her and her clothes vanished. She gaped up at him, tried to roll away. Grasping her wrists, he manacled them to the bed on either side of her head. “So be it,” he growled, capturing her mouth beneath his own.

  Elise stiffened, but within seconds the tension of desire overwhelmed any thought she might have had to object to his roughness. His taste and scent invaded her senses like an electric current. The pleasure was overwhelming, debilitating, devastating. The brush of her body against his with each breath made her tingle all over with need.

  When he broke the kiss at last, however, she saw that anger still drove him and her own desire cooled. A knot of misery formed in her throat and she looked away from him.

  He released her abruptly, angrily, and moved away. “You wanted this."

  She turned to look at him. “Not like this ... in anger."

  He gave her a look of baffled fury. “You would have lain with that worm for nothing more than to assuage your lust."

  “At least he would have felt lust for me, too!” Elise snapped, suddenly as angry as she was hurt. “He wouldn't have done it just because he was mad at me, to punish me!"

  “You think I did that to punish you!” he demanded, outraged.

  “Didn't you?"

  He studied her a long moment. “Women! Bah! There is no pleasing them!"

  Elise slung a pillow at him. “It would please me no end if you'd go back where you came from and cease to torment me!"

  He caught the pillow and tossed it aside, leaping toward her like a pouncing cat and flattening her against the pillows behind her. “I will go in my own time,” he growled at her. “Not because you will it, you ill tempered wench."

  Before Elise could think of anything to say, he vanished. She rolled over, punching the pillows in frustration. Damn him, anyway! She shouldn't have stopped him. At least then she could've slaked her body's demands and hated him at the same time. It would've been the perfect solution to her dilemma.

  She was sorely tempted to get dressed and go over to Lonnie's place.

  God only knew what Raheem had done to the poor fool, though. It seemed unlikely he'd be able to do her any good, despite her childish desire to snap her fingers at Raheem and go anyway. She just hoped that whatever Raheem had done to him wasn't permanent.

  As her anger dissipated, the remnants of alcohol in her system kicked in. Despite her certainty that she was too sexually frustrated to sleep, she did. She roused some time later to the brush of a warm hand across her bare belly. Caught halfway between sleep and full alertness, she relaxed, drifting in a hazy, unfocused way that convinced her she was dreaming, that liberated her from any sense of guilt. She moaned as his hand cupped her right breast, massaging it. Rolling toward the source of pleasure, she stroked her hand over his chest. He felt wonderfully familiar.

  Confusion filled her when she opened her eyes and looked at him. It was John's gaze that met hers, John's face. She closed her eyes again. She hadn't dreamed of John in more than a year.

  Why would she dream of him now? Why had she thought that it was Raheem who lay beside her? Raheem who caressed her?

  After a moment, she dismissed her confusion. Moving closer, she lifted his hand from her breast and slipped his index finger into her mouth, sucking it. He groaned, and, inwardly, she smiled, felt desire flood through her. Releasing his finger, she guided his hand downward, over her breasts, her belly, until he cupped her sex.

  She moaned when she felt his fingers slipping through her wetness, rubbing the nub of her clit. Bending her head, she nipped the flesh of his chest, tasted him with her tongue, stroking his back lovingly as she kissed her way up his throat. “I love you. Make love to me,” she whisp
ered when she reached his ear.

  He stiffened. After a moment, he pulled away, flopping onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. “I am not John,” he said harshly.

  Elise rose up, propping on her elbow. “Why did you pretend to be?"

  He looked at her, frowning. “To give you pleasure."

  Elise leaned toward him, stroking his cheek. “Make love to me, Raheem."

  He looked at her in surprise. “You knew I was not ... John?"

  Elise brushed her lips lightly across his. “I knew."

  He threaded his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head as he opened his mouth over hers and thrust his tongue between her lips, kissing her deeply, with a hunger than sent a shaft of excitement through her. She stroked her tongue along his, sucked him as she had his finger. He groaned, rolled so that he lay atop her. Breaking the kiss, he moved over her face, down her throat, his breath harsh, labored as he blazed a trail of fire across her skin with his mouth.

  Elise wrapped her arms around him, stroking his silky hair, his back. She gasped, dropping her arms to the bed and gripping the sheets tightly as he moved lower still, over her breasts, along her body, across her belly. He seemed determined to explore every inch of her body with his mouth, his hands, to stroke and taste her. When he reached her thighs, he parted them, lowering his head to taste the core of her femininity.

  Elise clenched the sheets tighter as the heat of his mouth covered her, as she felt his tongue stroke and tease her. Spreading her thighs wider, she arched up to meet him as mindless pleasure thundered through her, teasing her with the possibility of release, tempting her to lie still and ride the current upwards until she reached ultimate bliss. Releasing the sheets abruptly, she clutched his shoulders. “Don't make me come. Not yet."

  For a thundering heartbeat of seconds, she thought that he would ignore her, that she could not stave off the climax her body craved. At last he lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes glazed with desire.

  “I want to come with you inside me,” she whispered shakily.