She was torn between snickering and frowning. She settled on her usual professional demeanor, revealing zip, especially her yearning and needs. “Ms. Prescott is fine. And you are…?”
“Ranson.”
She nodded. “Ransom.”
“No. Ranson. With an n.” He pointed. “The name I go by. The one I’ve always had and will have. Not Lucian, Xavier, Chad, Zach, Hunter, Rock, Manly, or anything else you come up with, especially goofy names. I’m done with my Mistresses or Masters calling me something they like. I’m a genie. Not a pet.”
It seemed he had a backbone to match hers. Early on in her career, her boss had insisted on calling her Ally, which, of course, turned into Ally Cat. What he deemed an affectionate nickname for her.
As soon as she was able, she bought his company and fired his misogynistic ass.
She liked her genie’s style. “Ranson it is. With an n. But Manly? You can’t be serious. You made that up.”
His cheeks darkened. “I wish. Even worse was Tristan. A pirate’s name from this book one of my mistresses read.” He curled his upper lip. “She even had me wearing those frilly shirts, boots, and tight pants.”
The prize between his legs would be even more obvious in them. Pleasure swirled through Alexandra, quickening her breath, making her crave. “Speaking of clothes….” She gestured to his costume. The only way she could describe it.
He smoothed his jacket. “Nice, huh?”
Not the word she would have used. “It will have to go.”
His smile collapsed, his wariness returning. “Why?”
He couldn’t be that dense. “Because it’s dated?”
“So?”
“And ugly.”
“In your opinion.” He crossed his arms and looked down his nose at her.
She hadn’t expected defiance. His manner charged the space between them and made her wet. At this point, she had two options: cave and give him whatever he wanted, which wasn’t in the agency contract, or let him know who was boss and find common ground so they could work together…maybe even have some fun. She offered her sweetest, most non-threatening smile. “My opinion’s the only one that matters since I’ve hired you. Now, be a good genie and change your suit to something more appropriate.”
“Good genie?” He sniffed. “What’s next, you pat my head and put a collar around my neck?”
The collar would come if he liked BDSM games. She’d never tried that stuff, but, with him, bondage and spanking might be fun. “I’m sorry if you think I’ve offended you.”
“Which means you’re not sorry in the least for doing so.”
She tightened her jaw. “Are you trying to get thrown out of here?”
“If you were in my shoes, wouldn’t you want that?”
Of course. She’d felt exactly as he did now before she’d gotten rich. However, this was getting them nowhere. “Let’s start over, shall we? I’d like you to change your, uh, what you’re wearing to more closely match the mood I’m trying to strike here. Low-keyed and professional.”
He glanced at the deep V in her neckline and sexy heels. A slow, appreciative smile spread across his face. “Uh-huh.”
She wanted to smack him then wrestle him to the floor. Months had passed since she’d had sex and it had been so-so. She was long overdue for a good time with a hot guy who smelled better than good. His fragrance enveloped her, calling to everything female inside. Nerve endings fired, leaving her breathless and weak. Nude, he’d be amazing. Nothing but hard muscle and hair in the right places.
“You do understand that, don’t you?”
She hadn’t heard what he’d said before his question. “Understand what?”
“No matter what you want, I can’t do wishes on myself. You have to do the deed and say the words.”
Right. She’d read as much in the forms she’d signed. “Very well, I want—or rather wish—for you to wear what I’d like.”
The air stilled. Sounds faded. His honeyed eyes flashed to gold then back to their natural color.
His ugly-ass plaid suit disappeared, leaving him gloriously naked.
Exactly as she craved deep inside, wanting him in nothing except skin.
Chapter Two
To kneel before Ranson seemed the next plausible step to Alexandra. He was that beautiful…and hers.
Wow.
Delight bombarded her from head to toes. Her skin burned from carnal hunger, and her brain turned to mush. Drooling might come next.
Even as a kid around Christmas, she hadn’t been this enthralled at the wonders in toy stores. Then, she’d never gotten what she wanted. Now, she would.
Holding back a squeal, she drank him in. Taut bronze flesh and firm muscles draped his large frame. There were no tan lines. Bad, bad boy. She liked that. His tiny nipples were a rich earth color, his pecs and abs so defined he could have starred in ads for Gold’s Gym.
She was glad he hadn’t considered the option. Working somewhere else would have kept him from her and these moments. A loss she didn’t want to contemplate when there was too much good stuff to wallow in.
Silky dark hair trickled over his flat belly to the thick, curly thatch on his groin. Masculine as hell. Virile to the extreme. And totally expected.
His half-moon navel wasn’t. She had to fight to hide her surprise. Did he have genie parents somewhere? Were they also working for agency clients? Did father and son look identical because they never aged?
She’d have to ask him. Carefully, though, to avoid offense or risk hurting him, which would send him bolting for the door when she needed him here.
His musk surrounded her, promising decadent nights and wanton mornings, lazing in bed, enjoying his heat, strength, scent, and touch. His big hands on her, his long fingers squeezing and owning her breasts, dipping between her legs, parting her damp folds to claim and stroke her clit.
She shivered.
His erect cock was at least ten inches, the rigid column graced with prominent veins, the head silky smooth and a deep-maroon shade from his arousal. He was either showing off for her as most males—mortal or not—tended to do for women, or she’d turned him on big-fucking-time.
She prayed for the latter, longing to have him want her as a woman and a person, possibly as a friend, not simply as an employer he needed to please. What were the odds his feelings ran that deep? Zero?
Biting back disappointment and doubt, she enjoyed her journey over his magnificence. She’d always been into a guy’s balls. For some reason, they seemed so damn sinful and male. His were nicely plump and furred with short dark hairs.
She pressed her toes into her shoes to keep standing. Wasn’t easy.
His hairy thighs and calves were powerful to the nth degree, his feet big, toes long.
Why no one had wanted him as their personal genie mystified her. The newer models might have been an improvement as far as knowing stuff, but no woman or man could have created a more perfect being, looks-wise, than him.
As far as his personality….
She respected his courage in standing up to her and this soon, too. They’d barely said hello. No way would he take her bullshit for long, if at all. His determination to have her treat him as a worthy being touched her as few things had and jolted her as to how crude she was behaving—ogling him as if he were nothing more than a prized possession, giving him no choice in the matter, or considering how he felt.
Shame heated her cheeks and throat. She chanced meeting his eyes.
He regarded her without artifice or any emotion.
Crud. She wanted the eagerness he’d shown Francine when he proposed running away with her to escape servitude here. “Are you uncomfortable? It’s all right if you are. I didn’t mean for this to happen.” She gestured to his nudity and forced herself not to stare anywhere beneath his face. “I must have wished wrong.”
“Nope.” He tightened his arms, and his muscles bunched. Ropy veins decorated them.
She reeled from too much desire. “N
ope?”
“You got exactly what you wished for. Me nude.”
Talk about blunt. She’d worried about his embarrassment and hadn’t considered her own. It grew, making her feel like a seventeen-year-old loser again. She flicked nonexistent lint from her jacket, stalling to collect herself. Once she had, she leveled her gaze on him. “Care to explain?”
He stepped closer.
She didn’t mind.
“When a mortal makes a vague wish, as you did, a genie has to guess what their real intent might be. Unless—and this is the important part—the inner wish is so strong and precise in the master or mistress’s mind, it takes over and becomes reality. That’s what happened with you and, thus, my nudity.”
She wished he’d quit using that word. “You haven’t answered my question.” She inched closer to him, drawn by his virility and ancient scent. Nothing mankind had created was as luscious. “Are you uncomfortable?”
He took another step. Muscles rippled. His cock grew harder and pointed at her pussy. “In what way?”
This conversation couldn’t be happening. It was surreal. “In whatever way you’re feeling right now. So, how do you feel?”
His feet slapped the marble floor. He stopped directly in front of her, his toes and her shoes almost touching. “Do you mean am I cold because I’m nude? Not even close.”
Perspiration dotted his temples. An inner fire flared in his eyes. His complexion darkened, and his nostrils flared slightly.
She was having trouble breathing, too. “Good. Wouldn’t want you to catch a chill.”
“Is that why you’re shivering?” He stroked her arm.
Alexandra trembled. “What?”
“Let me warm you.” He snuggled her against his broad chest.
Her heart slammed into her throat, prohibiting speech and sound. His skin was hotter than she’d suspected and outrageously soft, his body firm and solid, the way a man’s should be to protect those he loved from bad fortune and hurt.
In other words, everything she’d wanted growing up and never received. Even with her net worth now, she hadn’t been able to purchase anything close to this.
He stroked her hair and held her gently.
The moment was so sweet and tender, her resistance crumbled faster than it should have. To lose herself within his arms and surrender to his kind gesture, superior size, and delicious brawn wasn’t wise for her battered heart.
Her desire didn’t care. She wrapped her arms around him and sucked his bristly throat.
He swallowed hard, making his Adam’s apple bob. A pleased groan rushed from him. His cock pressed against her mound.
He settled his mouth on her ear. “Make a wish and get naked with me…if that’s what you want.”
His suggestion was the best she’d heard this year. “Sounds great…hold on.”
He stopped stroking her hair. “Sure. Why?”
“Business. Give me a sec.” Breathing hard, she pulled from his embrace and buzzed Francine.
“Yes, Ms. Prescott?”
“No interruptions for the next half hour.”
Ranson joined her from behind and slipped his arms around her waist.
Dizziness hit. She lowered her head to steady herself. “Make that the rest of today.”
He brushed her hair aside and kissed her neck.
“I may be in late tomorrow morning, too. That’s all.”
“Yes, Ms.—”
Alexandra pressed the button, cutting Francine off. She turned in Ranson’s arms, cupped his face, and brought his mouth down to hers.
Pleasure shot in every direction and settled in her pussy. It ached from desire denied too long. No more. She had this moment with him. Damn. His lips couldn’t have been warmer or softer, his stubble outstanding, rasping her chin and cheeks. She luxuriated in the slight sting, eager to endure what his effortless masculinity demanded.
He speared his tongue into her mouth and filled her to the brim, not allowing any protests.
As if she’d ever be crazy enough to deny them this. Loopy from lust, she sagged against him and suckled his tongue dutifully, honoring the genie he was, the real deal, not a manufactured substitute.
He tightened his grip.
That’s it, baby. Show me who’s boss.
On a deep moan, he tore his mouth from hers.
No, no, no. What he did wasn’t right. It was downright insane. She gripped his skull to keep him close, her fingers buried in his thick, silky hair. “Come back here.”
He lifted his head.
Her kiss missed his mouth by a mile. Didn’t matter. She was in this to the end and sucked his bristly chin.
He huffed. “Hold on. You need to make a wish.”
“Why?” She cupped his balls and nearly died at their heat, weight, and utter awesomeness. “I’m already getting what I want.” She gave his sac a gentle squeeze.
His knees sagged and bumped into hers. “Yeah, I know. But what about me?”
“Hmm?” She suckled his pec and tongued his nipple.
He wriggled.
With her hands planted on his ass, she tugged him closer.
He groaned. “You’re still dressed when I want you nude. Make. A. Damn. Wish. Now.”
Although she wasn’t the kind to tolerate commands, in this one, he had a point. “Absolutely. I wish I was na—”
“No, wait. Leave on the heels. I like them.”
“Not a prob.” She worked his cock in her hand, mimicking what he would do once he was inside her pussy. Strong, solid pumping from him, a tightened cunt from her….
He made a pained sound. “Make the friggin’ wish before I explode and come in your palm.”
Yes, sir. “I wish I was totally naked except for my heels…and my hair— Wait. And my bush— Hold on, and my diamond earrings.” She didn’t want to take any chances on getting this wrong.
Her clothing evaporated and reappeared, each item hanging on the gold rings sculpture.
Air spilled from him. “Good girl.”
Good what?
He cupped her ass and pulled her off her feet easily, as if she weighed nothing.
She wrapped her legs around his lean hips, her cunt nuzzled against his cock. “You like?”
His eyes sparkled, and his grin widened. “Oh yeah. Hang on.”
Nothing else was possible.
With one arm, he swept papers, pens, the phone, and her laptop from the desk. They crashed to the floor.
The destruction didn’t bother her as it might have an hour ago. That was then, this was now. She gripped his shoulders.
With more gentleness than she would have guessed he owned, Ranson lowered her to the desk. Bent over her, he leaned close, their noses almost touching. “Comfortable?”
She’d never been better. Concern for her happiness shone in his gorgeous eyes. Kindness touched his spectacular features. If he’d been savvier about the mortal business world, he could have given up being a genie for hire and hosted how-to seminars instead, teaching guys what women really wanted.
No way would she ever give him the idea. She wanted him with her.
She brushed a wayward lock off his forehead and stroked his upper lip.
He smiled.
Her heart cracked open a little more. New warning bells sounded. She ignored them. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“How about we work on getting you to great?”
Where have you been all my life? Joy raced through her. Uncertainty followed, along with a painful question.
Had he behaved this way with his other mistresses, because his actions were no more than an act?
Alexandra hoped not. That would wound. She was no different than him, wanting to be special and treated with respect. She clutched his face and stared at him.
He arched one eyebrow. “Something wrong?”
She wasn’t sure and didn’t have enough courage to ask if he was merely putting on a show for her benefit. “Nope. I just like looking at you.”
His cheeks and
forehead colored. “Why?”
“You’re easy on the eyes.”
Surprise flickered across his face. “Really?”
His innocent candor plowed straight through her heart to her soul, taking down more barriers and demolishing her suspicion. He didn’t seem craven enough to dupe anyone, not even TV evangelists’ rabid fans who believed anything con artists said, no matter how loony. “Yeah. You’re one hot dude.” She brushed her lips over his and offered a tender kiss.
He nestled closer, indulged in their sweet passion for a second then led the show, kissing her deep, wet, and fucking hard.
Yeah, man.
When he finally tore his mouth from hers, she was too breathless and weak to protest. Eyes closed, she let him do whatever he willed.
She hoped it would be every-fucking-thing.
He settled between her legs and latched his mouth to her pussy, already dripping from her arousal.
She squirmed, needing to get closer.
With a Dom’s assurance, he clamped her thighs to restrict movement and held her clit between his teeth. Thus imprisoned, she didn’t dare budge.
Movement was no problem for him. He licked her defenseless nub and stroked her anus.
Intolerable delight roared through her faster than a gunshot, fiercer than a lightning strike. Her skin sizzled, and her hair stood on end.
Holy hell, this was beyond epic clear to legendary.
She tried to moan but couldn’t gather enough air. She pounded the desk, wanting more action from him.
Paying no heed to her banging fists, he abandoned her clit and sucked her inner thigh.
Jesus. A new pleasure wave hit. This one combined delight and contentment, tossing her between the two emotions, leaving her wrung out but wanting release. “My clit, dammit.”
“What about it?”
He couldn’t be serious. “Lick it.”
Ranson rested his chin on her hipbone. “Care to wish for that?”
Amusement sounded in his rich voice. Curious as to what he was thinking, she propped herself on one elbow.
His smile couldn’t have been smugger. Mischief danced in his eyes.
She panted, loving how he played. “What happens if I don’t make a wish?”
Mystic Realms: A Limited Edition Collection Page 203