Mystic Realms: A Limited Edition Collection

by Nicole Morgan

  He curled his fingers into a loose fist and drew in his shoulders. “Yeah?”

  “It has nothing to do with wishes. At least not entirely.”

  Her assurance didn’t get him to relax. He squeezed his fists tight enough to blanch his knuckles. Any more pressure and he’d snap some bones.

  “Easy, baby.” She used her mildest voice. “I’m not going to run you ragged as your other mistresses or masters have by wanting stuff you’ll have trouble delivering.”

  He slanted her a look. “Ms. Quill told you about my limitations?”

  The whole sorry tale, though now wasn’t the time for truth. “She mentioned a few. I don’t expect you to fix my computer system, my Benz, produce a five-star banquet for every meal, redecorate this place, get me elected to Congress, create new dog breeds, cheat on my taxes, destroy my competitor’s businesses—by the way, I’ve bought most of them—or find new places to stash my cash.” She paused to catch her breath. “I want you to be my assistant here.”

  His eyes widened then narrowed. “What exactly do you do?”

  “Ever see Within His Embrace or Our Time Has Come?”

  “The tearjerker movie and mushy TV show?”

  She preferred to label them romantic. Maybe he wasn’t as perfect as she’d imagined. “Yeah, those. My production company films them. I create romance for the modern woman.”

  “No freaking shit?”

  His astonishment cut deep, like he didn’t think she was feminine enough or was too cruel to know what simple human kindness should be. “You sound surprised.”

  He shrugged. “I thought you were some kind of tech person. They have all the dough.”

  “I have more.”

  His quick smile wobbled with unease. The way a man behaves when he isn’t certain what to say. “That’s great. My last mistress is a huge fan. She kept me up most nights switching channels to search for your stuff. I hate to complain, but you’re about to draw blood.”

  She’d dug her nails into his wrist. “Sorry.” She snatched back her hand. “Better?”

  He rubbed the parts she’d wounded. “Yeah. I heal fast. By making me your assistant, do you intend to pick my brain about my other mistresses I’ve satisfied sexually so you can use what I did with them for your movies and shows?”

  As a rule, Alexandra wasn’t the jealous type. He’d changed the rules by giving her the best afternoon ever, except for this dumb conversation. Before then, he’d focused on and wanted her to the exclusion of everything else. If he gushed about his other mistresses, she’d have no choice except to wish for him to obliterate them. From what she’d heard, most were near death anyway even if he’d made them look good. “Nope. Your past is yours, no matter how sordid. None of my business, though I am curious about one thing.”

  He leaned away. “What?”

  “Relax. It has nothing to do with wishes or your many, many, many satisfied mistresses.”

  “There were only fifty or so. Okay, several hundred.” He shrugged. “Sorry, but I’ve been around a long time.”

  Another guy would have bragged about his sexual conquests. He’d apologized. She craved him even more. “I know.” She touched his navel. “What’s this?”

  He looked down. “My belly button.”

  “Yeah, I get that. But why do you have one? Were you born? Do you have a mom and a dad?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “How’s that possible?”

  “Beats me. I have no recollection of childhood or if I had any. The first I realized I existed was when a master called me out of a lamp I was in. Before I knew what was happening, smoke whisked me out of the thing, except the smoke was me, then I took the form you see now. My master demanded food. I hadn’t a clue what that was or why he thought I could help out and told him so. He explained I was a genie, he was my master, then ordered figs, bread, roasted lamb, wine, the usual fare in those days. You know, way back when. With each specific word he said, images popped in my mind, and bam, in the next second, those things were somehow spread out near his feet. It was something.”

  Sounded bizarre to her, like waking up in the middle of a Twilight Zone episode. She caressed his knee. “Were you scared?”

  “For a few minutes, but then I followed his orders, or rather his wishes, and things got easier with him and the others through the eons.” He screwed up his mouth. “Until rich people took over and What You Want happened.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that place ever again. As my assistant, I swear you’ll only have to have my back. For starters, you’ll keep people from bugging me. Francine does so now, but you’ll be added protection against her or the other staffers getting on my last nerve. Speaking of which, if I wish for her to forget what you said when you first came here, can you do that?”

  His face turned red. “You heard what I asked her?”

  “You mean to be your mistress and take off with you? You bet. However, I realize you didn’t know what to expect from me, so I forgive you.” She licked sauce off his pec.

  He made a pleased-horny sound. “Yeah, wish for her memory of what I said to go away and it’s gone.”

  Alexandra did.

  His irises flared gold then returned to their normal color. “Done.”

  “Will she realize something happened?”

  “Nope. I got in and out fast.”

  “Excellent.” She straightened, her excitement building. “From now on, you’ll sit in on meetings and will support my positions. Have you ever done Internet research?”

  “Endlessly.” He sagged. “I had no choice if I wanted to get wishes right with interior design, fancy food, and everything else I don’t know anything about. Even with YouTube videos, I screwed up, and far worse than Sesinando did with his mistresses and masters. I can’t promise I’ll succeed at this, only that I’ll try hard. Really. I’ll work day and night for you.”

  Emotion tightened her throat. He was the sweetest guy she’d ever met. His other mistresses and masters must have been lunatics for firing him. “You’ll not only do fine, but, after I show you the ropes, you’ll become an expert. We’ll start with you checking out the competition for me. I’m itching to buy some new concerns. I may move into action adventure. Use it as a hedge against romance tanking in the future.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “You will.” She kissed his palm. “There’s not a chance in hell you’ll ever face anything unpleasant with me.”

  He regarded her naked boobs and pussy. His color deepened, and his breathing picked up. “Do you live with your mom and dad?” He stroked her navel. “Will they mind me coming home with you, or will I be staying here at night?” He glanced at the antique vases on the end tables then their empty soda cans.

  Why they suddenly fascinated him escaped her. “You’re staying with me.”

  Amazement sparked in his eyes. “What will you tell your parents? Do they know you got yourself a genie?”

  His reminder she’d more or less bought him hurt Alexandra to her core. She didn’t want to consider how they came to be, only where they’d go from here. To get there, she supposed she’d have to be honest with him about stuff, mainly her past. “I never knew my father.”

  Sorrow touched his handsome face. He cradled her hand. “He died before you were born?”

  “Cut out is more like it. He didn’t want anything to do with my mom once she got pregnant. She said I might not even be his. She liked guys, a lot, as in addicted to love. By the time I was seventeen, she was on husband number five. They got married after their third make-out session at the tavern they frequented. She called him her soul mate. Unfortunately, he had his eye on me.”

  Ranson frowned. “In what way?”

  Shame overwhelmed Alexandra, but she pretended her past was no big deal. “The usual way. Granted, the trailer we lived in was microscopic, but he kept strolling into my bedroom while I was getting dressed or coming into the bathroom during my showers. To have him b
umping into me constantly was gross.” Her stomach knotted at the horrible memories, leaving her defenseless even after so many years. She tensed against the hurt and lowered her face. “Although I tried to keep my distance, my mom noticed what was going on. She told me to leave. Said I had no damn right tempting her man. I begged her to let me stay. If anyone should have left, he should have. He was a damn bum. She worked two waitress jobs to support him. Claimed she didn’t have a choice because of his criminal record. No sane employer would hire someone convicted of auto theft, burglary, and countless other charges. The only money he brought in was from gambling, when he won, which wasn’t often. She didn’t care. She wanted him, not me. At seventeen, I was homeless.”

  Ranson scooted closer and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m so sorry. Did you call your relatives? Did they let you live with them?”

  “I didn’t have any. My English teacher put me up so I could graduate high school. To this day, I call her Mom. Once I became successful, I bought her a house in El Centro, where I grew up and she still lives. I would have sprung for a mansion in Beverly Hills, but she refused. Getting her to accept a modest two-bedroom home was nearly impossible. We fought about it for months. I finally purchased the damn thing in her name and gave her the deed and title. Told her to burn the place down if she wanted.” Alexandra chuckled. “She thanked me then bitched at me for going over her head then told me I was the best daughter she never had. We still have lunch once a month at her fave restaurant in town and call each other several times a week.”

  “I’m glad she makes you happy.”

  His compassion stirred her more than she cared to admit. “I appreciate you listening to me.”

  “I want to.”

  Truth shone in his eyes. She didn’t know what to say.

  He rubbed her arm. “Do you ever see your other mom?”

  “She doesn’t know where I am.” Alexandra shrugged as if she couldn’t care less, then surrendered and rested her head on his shoulder, wanting his kind support. “She’s not a nice person, but she’s still my mother, so I send her ten grand every month through an attorney I know. She thinks she won the lottery. However, she’s not even aware of who I am now.”

  “You mean mega rich?”

  “More like my identity.” She dug her nails into her palms. Confessing about her boobs and evil stepfather had been hard. This was worse. “My real name is Millicent Dubowski, not Alexandra Prescott.” She tensed. “Are you surprised?” Appalled?

  “You have two last names? How cool. I don’t even have one.”

  She hugged him as hard as she could, loving how he turned bad shit into something positive. “We’ll have to fix that, so I can introduce you to my staff and people I work with in the business.”

  “Honestly?”

  “Of course.”

  “Awesome.” He pumped his fist then brought it down. “Nothing stupid or goofy, though, like in a romance novel.”

  “Never.” She kissed his neck and pressed her mouth to his ear. “Research surnames and let me know which you like best. From that point on, it’ll be yours.”

  “You’re letting me choose what I want?”

  “Would you allow anything else?”

  Laughter spilled from him. “Nope.” He embraced her so hard, she could scarcely breathe.

  She didn’t mind. His happiness thrilled her. She wanted to give him the world and would. Possessions meant nothing to her any longer. He did. “There’s only one pizza slice left. Would you like it?”

  “Nope. It’s yours.” He handed the wedge to her. “If you want more after this, wish for another pie. A dozen. A zillion. I’ll have them here in a flash.”

  She giggled, bit into the slice then offered it to him. He snarfed down half.

  Sausage fell on his hairy groin. She plucked the meat off. “Here you go.”

  “You take it. I insist.”

  “No thanks, I have better things to eat.” She pressed her face to his curls and inhaled deeply, filling herself with his precious musk.

  He puffed out his breath.

  Encouraged, she licked crumbs off his cock, eased the rigid column aside, and tongued his right ball into her mouth.

  “Holy fuck.” He dropped the pizza on his stomach.

  Didn’t stop her. She suckled his ball, loving its salty flavor and the way the hair rasped her tongue.

  His breathing came hard and fast.

  She released him. “Want more?”

  “Hell yeah.” He sagged to the rug.

  Eager to serve him, she concentrated on his other ball. She couldn’t be absolutely certain, but this one seemed slightly larger than the other.

  He beat his feet and fists, making a racket.

  She hoped her staff didn’t have their ears to the door listening.

  So what if they are? This was for Ranson’s and her pleasure. She eased his cock into her mouth, relaxed her throat, and took him in clear to the root. Every blessed inch. Her nose touched his pelt.

  He groaned and swore.

  Her suckling turned to licks. She pumped the hard column between her lips, concentrated on his G-spot, and gave him the best head she could.

  He cried out.

  Cum spurted into her mouth, its texture delightfully creamy, its taste magical. What else?

  She drank him dry.

  He heaved air and sprawled. “Damn.”

  “Think you might live?”

  “Dunno.” He ran his hand down his face.

  Smiling, she tossed his pizza slice in the box. The wedge landed topping side down. “Speaking of what you’ll be wearing from now on….”

  He stopped smacking his lips. “Were we talking? I don’t recall. Did I pass out?”

  “Nope.” She should have let him sleep but didn’t want to lose a second with him. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to discuss your wardrobe.”

  “Uh, sure.” On a groan, he pushed up. His hair pointed in every direction.

  She’d never seen any man more appealing.

  He scratched his hip. “Just so you know, I don’t like gray suits. They’re blah.”

  “How about other colors and regular shoes?”

  “Mocs are good.” He licked sauce off his fingers. “I don’t mind giving up my platforms. They’re murder on my ankles.”

  After suffering from high heels for years, she understood the problem. “I’m talking dress shoes. Let me show you.” She rolled to the side to push to her feet.

  He grabbed her calf. “Whatever you plan to get, wish for it. That’s why I’m here.”

  How wrong he was. He’d come into her life to ease her loneliness, to let her feel young for the first time in forever. She wanted him as her companion, confidant, lover, and friend. Sure, their relationship was moving at supersonic speed, but what in the fuck was wrong with that when everything about him felt so damn right? “Whatever you say.” She plopped back down. “I wish my computer was on my lap.”

  The thing materialized. Delighted, she clapped her hands. “You’re going to spoil me.”

  “That’s my job, too.”

  She had to create a weekly series about this. Having a guy like him, a genie no less, was every woman’s dream come true. “Let’s go shopping.”

  A Google search for men’s designer suits brought up more than sixty-nine million hits. She scrolled and clicked on various websites.

  He scraped cheese and pepperoni off the box.

  “Uh-uh. I screwed it up.” She pointed. “Leave it. I’ll get you fresh ones. I wish for six pizzas with extra sauce, cheese, pepperoni, and sausage.”

  “And mushrooms.”

  “Sorry, forgot about them. And mushrooms, too.”

  The boxes materialized near her foot. She pushed them to him. “Enjoy. Wait.”

  He let the top fall back to cover the pie. “You want to choose a slice first?”

  “No. When people wish for stuff and you grant it, where do those things come from?”

  “Depends on wha
t they want.” He gestured to the pizza. “These are from the restaurant you like. A Beemer would come from a dealership. Clothes from a store. A fully cooked meal from—”

  “You mean items disappear from those places then appear here or wherever the genie happens to be? We’re stealing them?”

  “Duplicating.” He opened the box, handed her a slice, and took one for himself. “If stuff started disappearing, the law might get involved. Not a good thing when it comes to the paranormal or magical, you know? A mistress or master’s wishes clone stuff.” He lifted the wedge he held. “This has the same ingredients as the original pizza. Nothing modified or weird. It’s safe, believe me.” He chomped on his slice.

  This was like stumbling into a plot for the ancient TV show The Outer Limits. “What’s your favorite color?”

  He licked sauce off his lips and grew thoughtful. “Bright red.”

  “Next fave?”

  “Yellow.”

  At this rate, they’d be here through tomorrow. “How about less flashy colors? Think subdued like brown, black, tan—”

  “Ech. Those are blah.”

  She didn’t want to push, but couldn’t let him roam around here looking like a circus clown. “Let’s check out some pictures.” She found the most attractive business suits and models she could find then settled next to him and gestured to the photos. “Which of these do you like best?”

  He stifled a belch. His cheeks puffed out. “I’m not into guys.”

  She elbowed him.

  He laughed. A deep, resonant sound.

  Her toes curled. “Are you teasing me?”

  “Do you mind?”

  Never. He made her feel special in a way no one else had. “Do you think you could manage to wear one of these suits? I know they’re not your usual style, but could you possibly get used to them?”

  He settled the computer on his lap, scrolled through shots, and sneered.

  She rubbed her forehead.

  “This isn’t too bad.” He turned the screen to her.

  The photo showed a man in his early thirties wearing a navy suit, pale-blue shirt, and midnight-blue tie. In the entertainment business, ties and socks weren’t really necessary. Suits either. Guys could get away with wearing tees and jeans, but she wanted to doll Ranson up. Give him such a successful aura no one would dare challenge him. “You like this?”