A sharp pinch of one nipple jerked him back to the present. “Ow, what was that?”
“Making sure I have your full attention,” Dillon retorted. “I thought you’d gone to sleep.”
“Never.”
“My pride is wounded. I’m obviously not doing a very good job. Maybe out of practice. Can’t have that.” Another tweak and a sharp tug of one nipple sent a jolt of sensation straight to his erect cock.
Zane’s breath hissed through his teeth. Okay, so he’d drifted for a moment but he was concentrating now. His cock left a damp trail across his belly each time Dillon thrust into him. The other man increased the pace, changing the angle and hitting the perfect spot. A moan escaped. His cock twitched and he attempted to balance using one hand only.
“Mine,” Dillon snarled, batting his questing hand away from his straining erection. He stilled, imbedded root deep inside his body. “I’m responsible for your pleasure today.” It was obvious he wanted Zane’s submission.
“Yes, sir.” Zane’s reply held wry humor along with simmering expectation. Pleasure. Hell, yeah. Slowly, he replaced his hand on top of the quilt cover and only then did Dillon reach between his legs to curl a hand around his aching dick. He resumed his steady thrusts and pumped Zane’s cock, smoothing his pre-cum over his hand for easy strokes. Faster and faster, angling until Dillon’s thrust shot over his prostate.
“You’re so hot. Tight. I love the way you push back, the way you groan whenever I nail your gland.”
“Oh fuck.” Zane gasped, pushing back to eagerly accept each hard thrust. Under Dillon’s expert ministrations, his cock seemed to lengthen even farther. He trembled at the tingle that commenced. It bloomed slowly before bursting on him like a freight train. A raw and guttural cry came from deep in his throat. He shot, hot spurts of cum exploding from his cock in an intense burst of pleasure that left him weak and breathless.
“That’s the way to do it, genie,” Dillon said in approval, carefully pumping Zane’s cock again. It made his ass tighten, gripping the other man’s cock strongly. “And none too soon. I’ve been waiting for you to come first, but you’re so fuckin’ hot…” Dillon groaned, his breathing ragged. When he stroked inside again, Zane’s cock jumped and his ass milked Dillon, wringing another pained groan from the man. He slammed into him, the power in the thrust making Zane grunt, then the human stilled. The man leaned on him, warming his flesh. Zane could feel the urgent beating of Dillon’s heart against his back and smiled at the knowledge that he had done this to the human.
“Hell.” Dillon pulled slowly from him and removed the condom he’d donned despite reassurances of good health and stood.
Zane collapsed into a lazy and very satisfied sprawl, heedless of the dampness on his stomach and quilt cover. He was vaguely aware of water running and Dillon returning but was happy with his eyes closed and the remnants of pleasure still buzzing through his veins.
“Turn over.” Lazy amusement colored the man’s voice.
Obeying without hesitation, Zane flopped over onto his back. A warm cloth landed on his chest and he cracked his eyes open.
“Let me,” Dillon said when he went to grab the cloth.
It was so easy to let the other man take care of him. The thought brought a frown and a hint of alarm. Did genies starting to regain their humanity lose brain function? This lazy satisfaction wasn’t him at all. In fact, he hadn’t acted like himself from the moment he met Dillon. “Thanks.” He kept it brief and curtailed the smile that wanted to curve across his lips.
This relationship was temporary, a bolt-hole to hide in while the boss and merc-magicks searched for him. It couldn’t become anything more because what he wanted above all else was freedom and independence. A lover represented loss of both.
Chapter Four
Dillon found the complexities of the genie fascinating. He ran his fingers through the silky strands of Zane’s dark hair, content merely to pet and touch since he’d worn him out. Yeah, the genie presented a puzzle. When he’d stopped trying to think and just given in to his needs, he’d been perfectly submissive, following every order Dillon had given him. Yet despite the fact he’d come and obviously enjoyed the experience, the genie still held part of himself aloof. Interesting. Dillon pressed a kiss to the genie’s cheek, enjoying the contrast between the light stubble and the softness of his lips. Luckily for him, he adored a challenge because the genie certainly presented one.
It wasn’t as if he were into the lifestyle but he did enjoy taking control in the bedroom. The mind games and the give and take between consenting partners, the trust involved turned him on as much as the sex. He hoped he’d have time to explore a sexual relationship with Zane, but his gut instinct told him the genie would leave before they realized the full possibilities between them. The realization brought aching disappointment.
A quick glance outside confirmed it wouldn’t be long until the sun went down. Dillon freed himself and rolled away with a sense of loss. A wry smile bloomed. Hell, he had it worse than he thought.
“Where are you going?” His lover hadn’t moved but blue eyes watched him intently, his body stiff and poised for flight.
“I’m going to get a beer and sit outside to watch the sun set. Coming?”
The tension visibly seeped from the genie. He pushed upright and stood, grabbing his jeans.
“Hey, I didn’t say anything about dressing. I’m going as I am.” He indicated his natural state and strode from the room without waiting to see the genie’s reaction. God, he hoped Zane didn’t decide to cover up. It was a crime to cover such splendor. His cock throbbed as if agreeing with the thought. A crime all right—one of the century.
Dillon grabbed two beers from the fridge and took the chance to inhale deeply and do a slow count to ten. His entire body pulsed with vigor, as if he’d imbibed a life-extending tonic. It had been ages since he felt this way. A trace of panic pushed against the feel-good place where he currently resided. Had it been a dream? With another deep breath, he strode to the bedroom, hoping like hell he really wasn’t in the middle of a frustratingly realistic dream. To his relief, he found his visitor standing uncertainly in the middle of the terracotta-colored Persian rug he’d purchased while doing his big overseas experience. The guarded expression on the genie’s face screamed of uncertainty. Maybe a little mistrust. Dillon tried to put himself in Zane’s place and realized he’d feel the same way. The genie had a lot to lose. His freedom for one. Dillon wouldn’t want to end up stuck in a teapot having to grant wishes for long endless years to greedy people who didn’t appreciate the honor.
“Come and sit outside. It’s beautiful out there this time of the day.” And even better when he had a prime male specimen to ogle.
The genie still hesitated, bringing forth a wave of protectiveness in Dillon, not that he let it show. Instinctively he realized Zane wouldn’t want his sympathy or pity. All he could do at the moment was enjoy the hot sex, the sparks that flew between them and offer friendship. Show the genie he was trustworthy by action and deed and take each day as it came. Decision made, he led the way outdoors. A soft breeze tugged at his hair and whispered across his overly warm skin. Oh yeah. Just thinking about the genie in a sexual way had his blood pumping south. Difficult to think when his dick acted so militantly. Dillon ignored his hard-on and sat, lounging back in the chair, the canvas padding still carrying the heat of the sun.
“Have a seat.” He gestured at the wooden chair next to him. They faced out to the river, in the perfect position to watch the setting sun. The copse of kahikatea trees across the other side of the water always reminded him of a platoon of soldiers, their upright appearance so straight and proper.
The silence stretched between them until Dillon became uncomfortable. It was difficult to stop from fidgeting. In desperation, he thumbed open the tear tab on his beer can and chugged some of the liquid down. The cool, crisp taste of hops danced across his taste buds but did nothing to ease his discomfort. Normally he sat and l
et his mind drift, but today he decided to switch on some music in the hope the genie would relax, that he could relax. He set his beer down and jumped to his feet again.
“Back in a sec. I just need some paper and stuff. Thought I might put on some music.” Aware he’d started to babble, Dillon scowled inside and shut his mouth with an audible clack. He never succumbed to nerves like this. Long strides took him back inside to the cool interior of his lounge-cum-office. All he could think of was Zane and the incredible sex. Falling fast. Damn, perhaps Susan was right to worry when she said he should get out a bit more. Determined to get a grip on the nerves dancing through the pit if his stomach, he grabbed a pen and lined pad, paused by the sound system to hit play and strolled back outside. He had no idea which disc would play but the volume was low. It wouldn’t matter.
Anything to break the blooming silence.
When he reclaimed his seat, he saw Zane sat with his spine pressed against the back of the chair. Tension bracketed his mouth and he looked as if he might run at the first loud noise. The cans of beer sat on the small wooden table that joined the two chairs together. Condensation beaded on the aluminum surfaces, and despite the fact he must be thirsty, the genie ignored the drink.
“You okay, man?” Dillon tossed the paper and pen at his feet, concern bringing a furrow between his eyes. Surely the genie didn’t regret getting down and dirty? Tension clogged his throat at the thought and he anxiously waited for Zane’s reply. Some of the greatest sex he’d ever had—what if the genie hadn’t enjoyed it? Yeah, he’d come, but what if—? Hell, he couldn’t torture himself like this. He was an adult, a grown man. If the genie wasn’t interested and had merely used him, he’d suck it up and carry on with his life.
“You didn’t have to sleep with me.” Dillon was proud of his measured tones. “I would have helped you without expecting any type of payment.”
“What?” The genie’s gaze snapped to him.
“I said—”
“I heard what you said. No, I don’t regret the sex.” The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. It looked forced but it was a start. “I haven’t had sex with someone else for a long time. I…I enjoyed it.” He reached across to grasp Dillon’s forearm and squeezed.
“You could squeeze somewhere else,” he muttered, attempting to shift the blaze of emotions swirling between them into something more useful.
“I thought you wanted to watch the sunset. It’s almost down.”
Dillon glanced at the multicolored sky with indifference, noting tonight’s sunset was pretty spectacular but more interested in Zane. “Do you still want to stay here with me? I would never tell anyone who or what you are. You can trust me.” His voice rang with truth, but would the genie accept his offer? The idea of walking away…
“It’s possible Hasim will offer a reward for information leading to my capture.”
“I would never—”
The imperious wave of Zane’s hand cut him off before he finished his denial.
“The boss isn’t stupid. He won’t appear in his normal guise. He’ll pretend to be part of a law enforcement agency, tell people I’m a dangerous criminal on the run. When modern technology is teamed with magic, it’s almost impossible to outrun the merc-magicks.”
“But you’re still trying, despite the odds. I will do everything I can to help you retain your freedom.”
The genie leaned over and closed the distance between them, curled a hand behind his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. It was a kiss of thanks, unhurried and thorough. Dillon laced his fingers through his lover’s silky hair and angled his head for the perfect fit. Molten heat darted to his groin with each nip and suck, each slide of firm lips. A groan slipped free and the genie took advantage, pushing his tongue between parted lips and exploring the hot interior of Dillon’s mouth. The sweet intimacy brought a tremble, the need pulsing through his body heightening with each stroke of his tongue against Zane’s. Panting, Dillon pulled away, jumped to his feet and straddled the genie’s legs. Chest to chest they stared at each other for a heated moment before Zane resumed the slow, languorous kissing. Satisfied with the silent surrender, Dillon leaned inward. The bump of their cocks roused sheer need and desperation. Zane’s grunt told him the genie felt the same magic shimmering between them and it had nothing to do with a teapot. Pulse jumping, Dillon reached between them, gripping their dicks in one hand. Both leaked pre-cum and the beads of moisture eased his hand, making each slide across the swollen heads smooth and arousing. His eyes slipped closed and he concentrated on feeling. The song of a cricket came from the potted palm on their right, chirping over the background jazz. The wind tugged gently at Zane’s hair, sending it floating across Dillon’s cheek. The fragrant scent of citrus and patchouli filled the air.
The genie tore their lips apart, breathing hard. With heads bowed, they rubbed cheeks, the sensual slide of hair counteracted with rough stubble. All the while Dillon continued the pump of his hand, the intimate feel of their cocks making his pulse race and toes curl.
“You close?” Dillon gritted out. Hell, he hoped so. His own climax was ready to roar through him. No sooner had he thought it, his orgasm became fact. Semen shot from his cock, splashing over the genie’s tight stomach. Dillon kept pumping and nuzzled his lover’s neck. He scraped his teeth over the sinews and muscle and bit down on the fleshy part where neck and shoulder met. The faint taste of salt crept across his tongue. The genie jumped but didn’t utter a sound when he bit a fraction harder. Seconds later hot jets of semen pumped onto his own stomach. He slowly eased off the stimulation, stopping entirely when the genie slumped against him with a groan. They embraced silently, holding each other tightly while the sun disappeared beneath the horizon and darkness closed in.
Finally he moved, slipping off Zane’s legs. “I’ll get a towel.” With rubbery legs, he made his way into the en suite and pulled a flannel from the cupboard. After washing the stickiness from his stomach and rinsing the cloth again with warm water, he took it out to the genie.
“I’ll stay. For meantime,” Zane said. “But you realize having me here is dangerous? The boss wants me back so he won’t need to train a replacement.”
“Sounds lazy to me,” Dillon replied. He squatted beside the genie and cleaned off his stomach and sticky cock, taking pleasure in the small service. By the time he’d finished, Zane was ready to go another round but Dillon didn’t push for more. Maybe later tonight. Right now they had things they needed to discuss, and he had to do something with his computer. His deadline approached. Even though there was still a month to go before he needed to hand in the next installment of his comic, he preferred finishing in plenty of time. “Why can’t he delegate?”
The genie’s inelegant snort brought a twitch to his lips.
Dillon stood, tossed the damp cloth into the washing basket in the corner of the en suite and returned to his seat. He picked up his beer and tipped back his head to take a sip, grimacing at the warmth of the brew. “What’s it like being a genie? At first, I mean.”
“Exciting. The training was fun, learning all the rules and how to do things the right way within the genie covenant. I liked having food to eat and clean clothes.” He laughed. “It was good not having to tend the herd of goats.” Zane scowled. “I don’t like goats.”
“But?”
“After a while things that come too easily become tedious.”
Dillon nodded, understanding because he’d come to hate law—the constant grind of drawing up legal papers for the sale and purchases of commercial properties. “You needed a challenge. That’s why I started writing and illustrating comics.” The thought reminded him of all the work he’d lost and had to redo. “I’ll have to fix my computer and start my latest comic all over. When I get my hands on the person who sent that virus…”
“I can help you find the person.”
“But I’ll need to go into town. Is that safe for you?”
“I can’t stay hidden here forever. Besides I
’m sure Hasim and his merc-magicks have left the area by now. They’ll assume I’ve gone offshore. I confided that to one of the other genies,” Zane said with great satisfaction. “I know they’ll question the others.”
“Clever. And what will you do after the ten days are up?” The connection between them was new but Dillon hated to think of the genie leaving. And he wasn’t so sure about Zane going into town. Maybe it was a better idea to stay in hiding.
“I want to work with horses. It’s something I’m good at.”
Great. His knowledge of horses wouldn’t fill an index card. So much for common ground. “That’s good. There are a few horse studs around, several racing stables. You’re bound to find a job.” Even if it did put the genie out of his reach, he still wished him the best.
“That would be good. I don’t have any references, but once I’m free I can manufacture them easily enough. Hasim allowed me to exercise the royal horses when I was at court.”
Dillon scooped up his pad and pen, starting to jot down his list of suspects. He had to do something to take his mind off Zane’s departure. Ten days. If that was all the time he had with the genie, he’d better make the most of it. By the time he’d finished, he had six names on his list.
Zane leaned over to check the list, using a hand on his shoulder to balance. “Your sister might have more names for you to add.”
It was difficult to concentrate with the genie leaning so close, his sinful scent filling each breath he took. “Yeah, I thought of that. The only trouble is that I don’t want Susan coming over here. She’ll ask questions about you.” He didn’t want his sister hanging around, coming up with ideas about them.
The genie removed his hand and he immediately felt the loss acutely. “Are you ashamed of me?”
“Hell no! I didn’t think you’d want the locals knowing you were staying here with me, just in case your boss hears. The locals love to gossip. It’s part of Sumner’s charm.”
The phone rang before he had a chance to reassure the genie further. It could be his agent. Cursing under his breath, he stomped inside to answer it.
Last Wish Page 6