His Command

by Sophie H. Morgan

  “Am I missing something?”

  “I see both earrings.” Luka’s input.

  Ryder grabbed Hailey’s hand in exasperation. “Hey, I see some deserted beach. Let’s go . . . walk on it.”

  * * *

  “He’s going to kill you,” Leo informed Luka as they were left alone on the deck.

  Luka merely grinned and slapped him on the back. “Some things need to be said. And some things need to be drunk. Where’s the bar and why aren’t we down there?”

  * * *

  Hailey tipped her head back and checked out the night sky as she and Ryder walked away from the party. “Huh. They’ve got lights in the sky here.”

  “I heard about those.” Ryder carried his shoes in one hand and held her hand with the other—under much fake protestation. “I think they’re called stars.”

  Hailey grinned and nestled closer. She’d decided to forget about what Leo had said. Like Max always told her, she needed to stop overthinking and enjoy the moment. Okay, it was a little difficult, but she had faith in Ryder’s ability to distract her. “Tell me more about these stars. Are they romantic?”

  “Very,” he said with a solemn air. “They’re created from hot gas burning billions of miles away.”

  “And with the mention of gas . . .”

  “There goes the romance?” he finished and tugged her to a stop. “I told you I’m not good at that stuff.” He let go of her hand. A white flower appeared in his, which he tucked into her hair, his hand lingering to stroke her cheek.

  “I think you’re doing okay,” she murmured and lifted her face for his kiss.

  They sank into it. It was crazy how turned on she could still feel, how safe and yet thrilling it was to feel Ryder’s lips cling to hers, his hands on her body. As their lips slid along each other’s, shivers circled around her skin.

  She was right not to overthink. Right? Just because she sorta maybe kinda thought she might be . . . in you know . . . with him, well, it didn’t mean she had to acknowledge it or make it mean anything more than it should. If you thought about it, it was really just an extension of caring about someone. She could deal with that. As long as they kept it easy, slow. Okay, so just knowing that the feelings were there was like being poised at the top of the rollercoaster, looking down at the freaking loop-de-loop and the forty-foot drop, and yes, thinking of what love had done to her last time made her feel as if she’d been dunked in an ice bath . . .

  No. She was right not to overthink. Love messed everything up. Took everything out of your hands.

  Keep it light, keep it fun. Forget what Leo had said.

  Aaand she’d been staring at Ryder mute for the last thirty seconds. His expression was edging toward concerned.

  Give me a topic, any topic.

  “What did Luka mean about the money?” she settled on.

  Something shifted in his face. “What do you mean?”

  “He was weird about it.”

  “Luka is weird.”

  “In a charming way,” Hailey pointed out.

  His brow furrowed. “You think Luka’s charming?”

  Privately, Hailey had to admit that Handler Luka was . . . whew. Hot as hell and he knew it, judging from the dangerous gleam in his silver eyes. No wonder Kate had had a minor crush before she realized that wasn’t going anywhere. A woman would have to be dead—no, even then she’d insist on her makeup being done perfectly if the Handler were to stop by.

  Genies. Magnetism. Sexy. All three words went together like ice cream, peanut brittle, and chocolate sauce—not that she could eat any of those. At the moment. Soon. If her meeting with Erica on Monday went well.

  Rambling.

  She poked Ryder in the chest. “Answer the question.”

  A sigh flowed from him as he looked out over the waves. Their soft shushing sound was all she heard, a lullaby so different from her usual ambulance-siren classic.

  “WFY didn’t pay the money,” he finally admitted.

  Her eyes narrowed. Need. More. Info. “Then who did?”

  He shrugged.

  Hailey’s mouth fell open. “You paid five thousand dollars to charity so I could have a wish?” Wait. Rewind. “You have five thousand dollars to toss away like that?”

  He lifted his hands in a who-cares gesture. “WFY is charitable but they already donated a wish to Kate’s auction. I’d be laughed out of the Director’s office for suggesting they pay the bid I arranged to win.” He cocked his head. “Well, not laughed out. Frozen, maybe.”

  “You paid five thousand dollars.” Head. Spinning.

  “You’re very caught up with the money. It’s just money.”

  “Oh, sure.” She made a face and waved her hand. “A few thousand? Drop in the bucket.”

  “Hey, you get your wish now,” he said in an obvious distract-the-mad-female move. “What can I do for you?”

  She still hadn’t decided, and after seeing the wall at the hospital in the kids’ wing, it made it even harder to be so selfish. “Don’t change the subject, Mr. Money Bags.” She punched him on the arm. “How come we’re always getting takeout, huh? Where’s the lavish dinners?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Look. I made you win. I cost the charity their money. Ergo, I paid the fee. I wanted you to be happy.”

  The wild beat of her pulse fluttered under her skin. “For me?”

  “For you.” He cupped her cheek and stroked his thumb across her lips. “Hales, it’s always been for you.”

  Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it. He could not say stuff like that. She didn’t want to feel this overwhelming rush of joy and tenderness. Free and easy, goddamn you.

  She crushed his shirt in her fists as she hauled him in to her, kissing him silent.

  He got with the program quickly, his hands all over her butt. Then he found the slit in her skirt.

  “This has been driving me crazy,” he murmured against her mouth as his hand slid inside. His fingers grazed her skin.

  She shivered against the silky talent of his mouth and stretched onto her tiptoes to gain more access. Why had she worn flip-flops, today of all days?

  He solved that problem by hooking her legs around his waist, taking her weight with easy strength. It excited her, that show of muscles, and she stroked them, loved them even as her mouth clung to his.

  “Every time,” he groaned. “Every fucking time. It’s perfect.”

  She knew what he meant.

  “Flash,” she demanded in between kisses, rocking against the hard bulge that was an inch too low for her. She tried to shift, but his hands tightened on her thighs. She could have wept. “Leo’s got spare rooms, right?”

  In answer, they were suddenly in a bedroom decorated in blues.

  Ryder didn’t give her time to adjust, pinning her back against the door so it rattled in its frame. Trapped between the cool panel and his hot, hard body turned up the excitement notch to a thousand. Seconds passed where they did nothing more than kiss, his hands pinning her arms to the door.

  The element of restraint made her writhe, gasp against his hot, wet mouth.

  Another curse and he slid his lips away. With a flick of his eyes, her arms were held by invisible bands, freeing his hands to stroke down her aching body.

  “Let me touch you,” she pleaded.

  “No.” His smile was drugged with power.

  She refused to admit it turned her on.

  “You . . . suck,” she managed as he filled his palms with her breasts, tweaking her nipples until the need was unbearable.

  “Now there’s an idea,” he growled and sank to his knees. Keeping her restrained with his will, the Genie slid her skirt up past her knees to where her frail blue panties hid her from him.

  Huh, she thought as they landed on the carpet. They match the room.

  Then she could only cry out, hips rolling, as Ryder tasted her, his tongue as expert as his fingers as he worked her to that place of light and pleasure.

  She half sobbed as she came, dri
ving back against the door.

  He freed her and carried her to the bed, laying her down on the pillows. Her clothes were gone in an instant, his stripped as he watched her watch him. Moonlight spilled through the open window onto the bed as he crawled up to her.

  “You’re mine,” he said, low, insistent as he licked her navel.

  “Ye-es,” she hissed.

  “Mine.” He kissed his way up to her breasts, making her breath tremble as he sucked on them. His body was hard, heavy, wanting. “Say it.”

  Hailey caught his face with her hands, stroking away errant locks of dark hair. “I’m yours,” she managed as he teasingly worked himself against her. “And you’re mine.”

  Something changed in his eyes, now fully amber like molten lava. He sank into her on a groan, pleasure flickering on his face.

  Hailey bit her lips, eyes half-closed as she drew her legs around him.

  But he wasn’t in the mood for fast, despite his earlier demands. He worked her slow, thoroughly, until she was begging, rocking, clawing at his back for release.

  When she finally hit her peak, she gasped his name. His groans increased until he stilled and shuddered.

  He held her after in silence, arms cradling her close. As if she was special. Cherished.

  She fought the unease until finally she slipped into a restless sleep.

  31.

  Hailey crept through the house like a thief, barefoot, on tiptoe, and she had only the foggiest memory of where the kitchen was. She was determined, after a night like last night, that the least she could do was to play hunter-gatherer and fetch her and Ryder breakfast.

  Not by cooking, of course—the poor guy had already had to choke down enough of her offerings. But she was sure someone must have put away the buffet food into Leo’s refrigerator and that was where she was headed.

  Finally having located Leo’s orgasm-inducing kitchen—seriously, she wasn’t even a cook but she’d die for this kitchen with its sleek lines and every gadget under the sun—she headed for the fridge. Blissful cool curled out as she opened it and commenced foraging.

  Mmm. Cake. It wouldn’t be so bad if she had a little bit, would it? She could snatch a little bit off the end and nobody would be any the wiser.

  “Long night?”

  She barely held back the squeak as she whirled to put her back against the fridge. “I wasn’t eating it,” she shrieked.

  Ryder’s boss—Handler—eyed her and shrugged. “I’ve heard weirder greetings.” He pulled out one of the steel chairs at the breakfast bar and dropped into it. “Some party,” he said as an opening gambit. His hair stuck up one side like Sonic the Hedgehog’s.

  Hailey licked her lips and wondered exactly how sex messed her hair looked. “Ah, yeah. It was good.”

  “Especially the knife-throwing thing.”

  She frowned. “Knives?” She hadn’t signed off on that.

  “Oh, and the bit with the apple on the head? Classic. Made even better when the Genie made it bob up and down.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “And the bonfire at the end where we threw the bar and the dance floor into a pile and set them ablaze?” Luka whistled. “What a show.”

  Ryder had paid deposits on those.

  About to go into meltdown, Hailey caught a flicker of mischief in Luka’s eyes and calmed. “You’re joking.”

  “Yeah. It’s kind of my thing.” Luka peered past her into the open fridge. “Anything left? I could eat a roasted pig.”

  “There’s fruit.”

  Luka sighed. “Yum.”

  Things didn’t get more bizarre than having sex with your boyfriend in his twin’s house and breakfasting with his boss the next morning.

  But she was go-with-the-flow Hailey now, or at least more that way than stick-up-her-ass Hailey, so she gamely placed the platter piled with fruit on the breakfast bar and took her seat.

  Luka picked up a slice of pineapple. “So. The girl who tames Genies.”

  For you. Ryder’s sexy-as-sin voice.

  She hid the blush by selecting some mango. “So. The boss who never takes anything seriously.”

  “Aw, he talks about me.” Luka considered her as he licked his fingers clean. “You’re not what I pictured.”

  Bristling, Hailey stared the Genie down.

  “Very good,” he approved. “Tingles in all the right places.”

  She sighed. Never was much of a bad cop. “Did you want me to fetch Ryder?”

  “When we’re having such a nice talk?” He laughed at her wry look. “Sorry. You get used to me after a while. It’s like learning to put up with a clock ticking in the background. Eventually you don’t even notice it anymore.”

  He was possibly the strangest person she’d ever met, and yet, somehow, he had a charm all his own.

  Luka offered her an apple. “You’re good for him, you know?”

  Hailey took it and inspected its surface. “So everyone keeps telling me.”

  “He’s good for you, too.”

  Surprised, her eyes moved from the apple to the Handler’s face.

  He wore confidence like the hideous shirt and cargo shorts, uncaring if it was considered rude to poke into his employee’s relationships. Or a friend’s, or whatever Luka was to Ryder.

  “Yes,” she said, biting into the apple. Juice exploded on her tongue as she swallowed. “He is.”

  “Good. That’s how love should be. And ain’t it grand?”

  She sidestepped his pointed use of love, turning the subject on him. “Have you got someone . . . ?”

  “Special? Nah. Genies my age, we don’t get with the whole messy-love thing.”

  “How old are you?” Her gaze traveled up and down his buff body. He didn’t look any older than thirty-five.

  His eyes glittered with silver flecks. Powerful. Flirtatious. “To get that information you need a bottle of Glenlivet, two shot glasses, and lingerie too filthy to even look at.”

  She laughed.

  He smiled in return. “It’s hard for us,” he said, his expression contemplative. “Genies live so long, see so much. It can be excruciating to let yourself care for someone mortal. That’s why I’m so easy come, easy go.” He grinned.

  Mortal.

  As if hearing the word for the first time, it imploded in her mind, all the ramifications.

  Suddenly the apple tasted like ash.

  “Mortal,” she repeated. Her chest grew tight as thoughts swirled chaotically. “You mean, because we die.”

  Her expression registered and his smile slipped. “No, no,” he said, warding her off that path. “I didn’t say that.”

  Mortal.

  Jesus.

  Another thought tagged on. Ryder would have to lose yet another person he cared about.

  “I don’t think I like the expression on your face. Let’s get back to talking about Ryder and how great you are together.”

  She’d been worrying about her rapidly growing feelings, what that meant for her, when she should’ve been focused on Ryder. Poor Ryder who’d lost so much in his life.

  Maybe . . .

  Maybe she should let him go now before they both got any deeper.

  At the thought, something in her stomach settled, like waves dying down. She could even draw the first good breath since Leo had brought up the L word the night before.

  That must mean she was right. She had to let Ryder go.

  “Look, my mouth can jabber on without my brain getting involved. Forget I said the mortal thing. Love conquers all.” Luka smiled, but his eyes were shadowed with panic.

  Hailey slid off the stool and after a second glanced at him. Her words were soft like the first lights of dawn. “Not always.”

  As she walked out of the open French doors onto the deck, the beach her destination, she was sure she heard the esteemed Handler mutter a vicious, “Fuck.”

  * * *

  “There you are.”

  Hailey’s gut roiled at the sound of Ryder’s voice. She’d
known he’d find her sooner or later—not like she could leave Malibu without booking a plane ticket—but the coward in her wished it had been later.

  His arms came around her waist, his chin settling on her head as he hunched over. “You were gone when I woke up.”

  She kept staring at the waves. “I went looking for breakfast.”

  “You didn’t make any, right?”

  A faint smile lifted her lips. “No.”

  It was a gorgeous day, despite it being October. Calm. The sky so blue it looked as endless as the ocean beneath and so beautiful it hurt to look. She’d thought she might find words in that beauty, but what words were there to tell someone good-bye?

  “Do you miss it?”

  Hailey started at Ryder’s question. “What?”

  “The sea? Your dad took you out a lot, right?”

  “Yeah.” Hailey closed her eyes and absorbed how it felt to have Ryder’s warmth surrounding her. “I miss it.”

  They were quiet again, but unlike the other times, this silence spoke of tension.

  “What’s wrong, Hales?” Ryder’s hand smoothed across her stomach, comforting.

  Nothing. But the word choked. Because everything was wrong. And the sooner she said it, the better.

  Never let them see a Lawson sweat.

  Hailey swallowed hard and walked forward, breaking Ryder’s grip. The toughest part was turning, seeing his face, the concern in his eyes as he studied her tormented expression.

  No. She changed her mind. This was the toughest part. She hated the idea she’d hurt him, but it was for the best. She’d thought about it for the hour he’d been sleeping, watched the waves toss and knew they’d be better if they both got out now.

  Like a Band-Aid.

  “We can’t see each other anymore,” she said, the words almost lost to the shushing waves.

  At first he smiled as if it were a joke he didn’t get but thought he should laugh anyway. Almost immediately his expression crumpled in on itself. “What?”

  Hailey inhaled. “We can’t see each other anymore.”

  Thoughts raced across his face, each one more perplexed than the last. “I don’t get it,” he said. “Did I do something?”

  “No.” She shook her head in a violent negative. “No.”

  “Then why?”