Santa Genie

by Jamie K. Schmidt

  “Wish I was there.” Melody closed her eyes and remembered the warm buzz of brandy. Her lips felt parched, and she licked them, but instead of brandy she tasted a faint hint of Karam.

  “Me too, sugar,” Stella said, snapping Melody out of her daze.

  “Got a question for you.”

  “Shoot—Harry! Do not shake that present! It’s fragile! Sorry, Melody. So what can Stella do for you?”

  “What was the name of the blackjack dealer Bobby ran away with?”

  “Skank Whore. Why are you thinking of that little weasel tonight of all nights?”

  “Hey, don’t put down weasels. My roommate happens to resemble that remark.”

  “How is that long, stinky rat?”

  “Renaldo is still very sorry he hid in your bra.”

  “Humph, no offense, honey, but de-scented my fat ass.”

  “He’s actually very clean. I wash him every day.”

  “Y’all need to use some perfume then. Chanel Number Five.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Melody said. “Seriously though, what was the skank’s name?”

  “Let me think. It was something boring. Lindsey, Lydia...”

  “Linda?”

  “That’s right Linda. I didn’t know her that well. But I had a friend of a friend of a...well, you know how that goes. Anyway, from what I understand, Linda was sleeping her way through the casino circuit.”

  “Was she married?”

  “Shit, yeah. She was married to a Texas Hold ’Em stud. I can’t remember his name.”

  “Was it Karam?”

  “That’s right. Karam Baldwin. He’s got a coupla World Series of Poker rings. Hey look, I gotta go. We’re starting the secret Santa. You give your mama and papa a kiss for me.”

  “I sure will,” Melody said. “Merry Christmas.”

  Okay, so it was possible that Stella had told her that information before and Melody had suppressed it. But why it was coming out now, like a post-traumatic-stress-disorder incident, was beyond her. When she got back to her desk in the lobby, though, someone was sitting in her seat. She brought her pistol out, but she recognized the wide shoulders and black straggly hair.

  “Are you always going to greet me with a loaded pistol in your hand?” Karam asked without turning around.

  “You seem very real for a hallucination,” she said. “I was actually just going to go online and see if your World Series picture matched what my mind conjured up.” Melody holstered the gun and sat down next to him.

  “I brought you some coffee.” He gestured to a Starbucks venti cup on the desk.

  Clutching it, Melody sniffed in dramatically.

  “It’s white chocolate mocha—your favorite.”

  Melody took a long drink and licked the whipped cream off her lips. She looked up to see Karam watching her with hungry eyes.

  “Thank you,” Melody said. “That’s a great Christmas present. I have to say if one of the perks of being crazy is that I can taste imaginary chocolate and coffee, I’m on board. I think sanity is overrated anyway.”

  “You haven’t lost your mind. I’m real. The coffee’s real.”

  “You’re not a figment of my imagination?”

  “Want me to kiss you again?”

  “Hell, yeah,” Melody said, standing up.

  “I was really hoping you would say that.” He trailed the back of his hand down her cheek. Melody brushed a kiss over his knuckles. The warm brown of his eyes turned molten, and he pressed his mouth over hers. This kiss started out slow and languorous. His mouth was firm and warm on hers. Dancing her tongue against his, Melody pressed closer, wrapping her arms around his waist. One of his hands was tangled in her hair, holding her steady for his kiss. The other was wandering over her backside again. It made her smile.

  “I’d like to get you out of that uniform,” he breathed, nuzzling her ear.

  “I’m stuck here until morning,” Melody said, placing lingering kisses on his jaw.

  “Isn’t there a couch in an office we can commandeer?”

  “I like how you think,” she said. “I know just the place.”

  Melody grabbed a set of keys and crooked her finger at him. She punched in the CEO’s floor and got into the elevator. Before Karam could take her in his arms again, she stopped him.

  “Tell me about your eyes and the two wishes,” she said.

  “I thought I was supposed to tell you about your eyes. Your eyes are like brown pools of...”

  “Mud,” Melody finished.

  “Coffee. The dark-roasted kind.”

  “I thought the same thing about you," she said.

  "Great minds."

  "What about the wishes?”

  Karam placed a hand over his heart. “I will grant you two more wishes.”

  “Can you explain to me what’s going on?”

  “Is that a wish?”

  “Hell no, I’m not wasting a wish on that.”

  The elevator doors opened up, and she led him to the corner office.

  “You seem to be taking this rather well,” he said.

  “It’s Christmas, Karam. I was going to spend it alone with my book. Suddenly, a drop-dead gorgeous man wants to fool around with me. A man, I might add, who doesn’t appear on the security cameras, so I’m not going to get in trouble for fooling around on the job.” Melody clutched his arm and hauled him into the office. “I haven’t had sex in almost eight months. I don’t care if you’re a nervous breakdown fantasy or one of Santa’s elves.” She touched his cheek. “I’m just real glad you’re here.” Melody blinked back tears.

  “Melody, don’t cry.”

  She lunged for him, hugging him tight. “I’m not crying,” she said, her face muffled in his shirt. He stroked her hair, resting his cheek on top of her head. She hadn’t realized just how sad and demoralized she had become. It was hearing Stella’s voice and seeing Bobby having fun gambling that really knocked the stuffing out of her. All her friends were in Vegas. Her family was in Hawaii. She wanted a drink and a poker game, but not necessarily in that order. Both were as impossible to her as reconciliation with Bobby.

  “I’m not one of Santa’s elves,” he said.

  “Don’t care,” she muttered, with a hitch to her words. He was warm and huggable. He smelled like being home for Christmas in her pajamas instead of standing in the executive lounge in her work clothes.

  He held her close and rocked a bit. “I’m a genie.”

  “I thought you said your name was Karam.”

  He pinched her arm.

  “Ow,” she said, backing away and scrubbing at her eyes.

  The executive suite was like a high-class hotel room—without the bed. It smelled faintly of tobacco and industrial cleaner. There was a bar, a kitchen area, and a roomy space with couches and a television. Melody ignored them and looked out the huge floor-to-ceiling windows. The snow was falling harder now, so much different from Las Vegas. She missed the strip sometimes, all the lights and activity. But looking out over the Hartford skyline, she was glad she was in Connecticut, far away from the temptations of the City of Sin.

  “Sorry for getting your shirt all wet. I get emotional this time of the year,” she said.

  “No problem. I’ll just take my shirt off.” He pulled it over his head with one quick motion. Karam’s skin was a deep amber color. Melody watched the muscles on his stomach jump. She itched to touch his chest and trail kisses down the arrow of hair leading into his pants. She turned back to the window, before she threw herself at the poor man. Most women didn’t sleep with men after knowing them for less than an hour. Most women would have screamed or called the cops when he showed up. Melody traced her fingers over the cold window pane. She wasn’t most women.

  “I was expecting lamp jokes,” Karam said, coming up behind her. He put his arms around her waist.

  Melody stroked the hair on his arm. “Want me to rub your lamp?”

  “That’s better,” he said. “Actually, I don’t have a
lamp. I’m a djinn—a free spirit.”

  “That’s a shame. I can’t have gin. I’m a recovering alcoholic.”

  “You can stop joking now. I’m trying to tell you what’s going on.”

  “Speaking of which, what happened with Stephanie? Did you rescue her from their evil clutches?” She turned in his arms, reveling in the sensation as their bodies brushed together.

  “Yes.” He looked off into the distance. “She was exhausted and fell asleep on her journey back to our house.”

  “She’s all alone in Vegas?” Melody cried.

  “No, of course not. She’s with my parents in the City of Brass.”

  “Waterbury?”

  “Not quite,” Karam said. “Anyway, she is safe in her own bedroom surrounded by her toys.”

  “Wait, you live with your parents?”

  “It’s a palace,” he said, hotly.

  Melody held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, just saying. If she wakes up, though...”

  “If she wakes up, she’ll be in a familiar place with her puppy sleeping next to her and her beloved Jaddah waiting to feed her sweets and treats. When I return, she’ll have her Christmas.”

  “Just like me and Renaldo.”

  “Who’s Renaldo?”

  “He’s the man in my life right now. Well, actually, he’s a ferret, but it sounds better the other way. I wish he didn’t stink. He’s de-scented, but you know they still have a bit of a musk odor.”

  “Say it again,” he said, smiling lazily at her.

  “What? Oh! Really? Um, let’s see, I wish my ferret Renaldo no longer had a bad scent, but he needs to remain as healthy and happy and unchanged other than that.”

  “Is that your final answer?”

  “I think so. Let me consider through all the loopholes. Renaldo—unscented instead of de-scented, but without harming him or changing his personality. Yes.”

  “Three times.”

  Melody recited the wish three times. Karam’s eyes glowed molten yellow.

  “It is done. The ferret is unscented.”

  “Well, I’ll believe it when I see it. You don’t think I just wasted a wish do you?”

  “Doesn’t matter what I think. Do you think you wasted the wish?”

  Melody cocked her head. She could have wished for a million dollars, but wasn’t there always a catch? “Let’s say that I wished for a boat load of money. Would the IRS show up at my door the next day? Or worse, the casino thinking it was their money?”

  Karam’s lips twitched. “Anything could happen.”

  “I think I’ll hold off on making another wish. I’ve got to think this through. Can you do world peace and stuff like that?”

  “I could and for a few moments, days, years, there would be peace on earth. But eventually, nature would assume itself, and we’d be right back where we started.”

  “That’s depressing.”

  “Tell me about it. I’m much better at smaller wishes.”

  “Underachiever, huh?”

  “Just lazy.” He smiled. “I’m more powerful when I’m free than when I’m bound. I can do things I want to do then. When I’m bound, I pretty much have to be ordered around like a child.”

  “But you said you’re a free djinn. Can’t you do what you want unless specifically told not to?”

  Karam shook his head. “I only have free use of my power when I’m masterless or not in the presence of my master. As of right now, you are my master. Or Mistress, as the case may be.”

  Melody perked up a bit. “I’ve never been a mistress before.”

  “May you enjoy it while it lasts.” He bowed to her.

  “How long does it last?”

  “You have one more wish.”

  “That’s a bummer.”

  “It can be. But there’s a work around. For example, you could wish that I was free, and then I could be free to lavish many things on you.”

  “Or fuck right off just like every man in my life.” Melody crossed her arms. “I’m not falling for that.”

  Hurt flashed briefly in his soulful eyes, and she felt a twinge of guilt. He covered it up with a mocking smile. “Can’t blame a djinn for trying. So what is your last wish?”

  “I want to hold on for that for now. What happens if I wish you free? Do you become human?”

  He made a face. “Perish the thought. No offense. No, I would become an ifrit, which is merely a different form of djinn.”

  “I didn’t realize they came in flavors.”

  “Yeah, I’m chocolate. Want a taste?”

  “Do I,” Melody breathed and leaned in to brush her lips across his nipples. She licked each one and kissed his chest. “Mmm,” she said. “You taste good, but it’s not chocolate, I’m afraid.”

  “You can wish it so,” he said in a strained voice. When she looked up at him, his eyes were closed.

  “I like you just the way you are. Come sit on the couch with me? It’s cold by the window.”

  “As you command, Mistress,” he said and took her hand.

  A thrill shook through her. “I could get used to this.”

  They sank into the deep leather monstrosity together. Melody kicked off her shoes and lay down with her head in his lap. “You make a good pillow,” she said. She would not kiss his belly button. Not yet anyway.

  “I live to serve.”

  “Do you?”

  “Sometimes,” Karam said, stroking her cheek. “I don’t want you to think I’m a figment of your imagination when we make love.”

  Melody looked up at him with a surprised smile on her face. “I don’t have to burn a wish for that?” She stroked her fingers over the curves of his arm. It was peaceful to share the night with someone like this, and she just might have wished for a night of glorious passion.

  “I owe you. I tricked you out of your first wish.”

  “You did, didn’t you? Okay, so tell me your story, and we can make love.”

  “Do you think you can take your shirt off? Fair is fair.” He leered down at her.

  “How about the gun belt?” she asked, wiggling out of it and laying it on the coffee table.

  “That’s a start.” He drew her in for another kiss. Sucking on her lower lip, he unbuttoned her shirt. She was enjoying the kiss too much to stop him. And besides, fair was fair. He peeled her uniform top off her shoulders and Melody shrugged out of it. The feel of his skin on hers was potent, and she quickly forgot everything but his sweet mouth and the hard, muscled shoulders under her fingers. He slid his hand under the back of her bra, fumbling with the clasp.

  “Wait,” Melody breathed against his mouth. “The story first. You promised.”

  “So I did. Take this infernal piece of torture off and I’ll tell you.”

  Melody reached behind her and unclasped the functional white underwire. With a sigh, she stretched as her breasts bounced free. Karam swooped his head in and captured a turgid nipple between his lips and began to suck. Melody cradled his head closer, pressing kisses on his temple and forehead. He moved on to the other nipple, rubbing his face against her chest.

  She hissed in pleasure as need seared through her. He had a slight growth of beard, and it rasped against her delicate skin, making her shudder. His mouth was hot and wet, tugging on her until she moaned and sighed. Stroking circles on her back and stomach, Karam groaned deep in his throat. However when Melody moved to straddle him, he gasped out, “Stop, or story time is over.”

  She nestled herself across his lap, feeling his erection against her core. She rocked into him, and they both murmured their pleasure into each other’s mouths. It had been so long, and he felt so right.

  “Do you want to hear the story or shall we fuck?” he gritted out.

  “I’ll behave. For the moment.” Melody needed to come, but she needed to hear this story more. She arched her back, marveling at how wanton it felt to be topless in his presence.

  Damn, she just wanted to grind on him, though.

  ”Tell me how this
all started.” She widened her legs so his heavy cock pushed up into her core. Maybe she should wish their pants were off. Melody bit down a groan.

  “Well,” Karam sighed, stroking her back. ”I came across Linda one night in a bar.”

  “Quelle surprise,” Melody said in a fake French accent.

  “Stop,” he said, kissing her nose. “I haven’t said anything rude about Bobby.”

  “Feel free.” The frisky feeling receded at the mention of her ex.

  “Okay, he’s an ass who didn’t know what he had.”

  “Amen,” Melody said. “Thanks for that. You know for a while I had convinced myself it was somehow my fault?”

  “It wasn’t. Bobby and Linda are the same deep down inside. They deserve each other. You shouldn’t waste another second believing you were somehow lacking. You weren’t. If anything, this was my fault.”

  “You were banging my husband too?” Melody smiled.

  “Yuck. No. Thankfully, that wasn’t a wish she wanted.”

  “So how is it your fault then?”

  “I approached her that night in the bar, seven years ago. I was attracted to her, and I bought her a drink. She got drunk, and I was feeling frisky.”

  “Let me guess,” Melody said. “It was the boobs, right?”

  Karam stuttered and then admitted, “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “I’m sorry that I’m not as well-endowed.” Melody arched into him, sliding her breasts across his face.

  “Real trumps silicone,” he said, tonguing over the peaks. “Now these”—he rolled her nipples between his fingers—“these luscious peaches have been making me crazy since I first saw you in that sexy uniform.”

  Melody choked on a laugh, caught up in the sensations of his big hands cupping her breasts and massaging them. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

  “Your blouse was so tight in the chest it made me want to do this over and over again.” His mouth clamped on her nipple, swirling his tongue over it.

  Melody shifted restlessly against him. She rubbed herself against his hardness. Losing herself in the sensations, she felt wanton and desired. Each pull on her breast made her sigh and move against him faster. The sweet friction was bliss. Clutching at his shoulders, Melody flung her head back as tremors started to quiver up from her core into her stomach.