Read The Genie's Witch (Dirty Djinn) Online

Authors: Lyn Brittan

Tags: #interracial romance, #Multicultural, #paranormal romance, #sorcery, #paranormal, #Witch, #genie

The Genie's Witch (Dirty Djinn) (3 page)

BOOK: The Genie's Witch (Dirty Djinn)
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Oh, please, please call.

She yelped and dropped the ringing phone from her hand. Did she just send a wish? No...no, no, no. Could she unwish him hearing her wish? Maybe it wasn’t even him.

She might have said a four-letter word, for the three-letter word on her screen. “Hey, Tig.  Look I didn’t mean to wish—”

“My flight’s cancelled. Most of the screen’s gone red. Have you checked your plane?”

“Hold on a second.”
I’ve been too busy spazzing
out didn’t sound appropriate. She shoved her way to the nearest set of screens through a gaggle of grumbling old men. Everyone screamed at someone else, but all she saw was her new favorite color. Red. Before she could tell Tig, a snotty nosed octogenarian, reeking of whisky, fell onto a woman with a pushcart. Said pushcart hit a kid, who landed against the back of a wheelchair that rolled into her and over her fallen phone. 

By the time the herd came to order, her cracked cell was caput. She officially had no way of calling Tig.

Well, one...

Okay, two, but wishing for a fixed phone fell on the short side of desperate. She also wasn’t sure if it was worth wasting the capitol to fix it herself. Magic for a witch mimicked giving blood. It replenished itself over time, but you were running low and kinda queasy for a while afterwards. By the time she got the thing right again...or a new one...he’d be long gone. If she wished too hard, she’d sound needy. No man wanted that. A cooling off period might help. Maybe it was for the best.

She dusted herself off, made plans for a flight tomorrow and hustled her squishy thighs over to baggage claim.

*****

T
he last time he’d been hung up on, phones were being sold by mail order catalog. He could understand a little bit of embarrassment, but this was a million miles in the other direction.

Up until a half second ago, he looked forward to the future. Now he was tired, hard, surrounded by idiots and most importantly, alone. Had he confused lust with fate? That would be a first.

Across from him, a man comforted a crying woman. Whatever he said worked. The lady smiled, leaned into him and brushed away her tears. They’d probably go home and tumble into the bed for lackluster sex.

Tig reached for his phone and tried to call Dinah again.

Direct to voicemail.

...all four times.

He didn’t leave a message. There was nothing to say, or if there was, he didn’t know what. Maybe the towers were jammed.

Or she was having regrets.

Or there was someone else.

Or her phone died.

Or she didn’t want to see him again.

It didn’t hit him that the last option was the most likely until he hopped on a van hired by the airline for first class passengers. Dinah, better than anyone, knew how to contact him. They’d been close enough in that airport for her to wish him there after the call ended. Dinah wasn’t stupid. If she wanted Tig, she could have made it happen. Never mind that she had powers in her own right.

Damn, she honestly didn’t want him.

“You’re too cute to look so angry.”

A ginger bombshell with watermelons on her chest slid into the seat next to him. She pointed to her exposed freckled flesh. “I should be in Galveston, goodness knows I’m dressed for it. This frozen wasteland is so not it. Crazy, right? I don’t think I’ll ever understand how these flights work.” She held out perfectly painted red nails. “My name’s Karlin.”

Three hours ago, he would have been all over it. And in it. Despite his need for release, everything about this woman had his skin crawling. Karlin wasn’t for delight, despite her pursed engorged lips. She existed to meet a base, corporeal need and he could use some ego stroking. “Tig.”

“Like a tiger? That’s so cute.”

“Just Tig.”

“You’re um...” She leaned in and pressed her arms against her chest. “You’re different. Like me. I can sense these things.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

She tsk-tsked and waved a finger. “Our secret is safe. I keep a crystal right here, next to my heart. See it?”  She tapped more of her breasts than the necklace. “That chain is pure silver. I know when we’re around.”

Great
.

The thing he’d been running away from, he’d ran smack into. Real Magicals didn’t need crystals to seek each other out. They just freaking knew.  It was the wannabes with their stones and their books, people who could never fully process all the power around them, but desperately clung to that world they knew little about.

Not nothing...just enough to cause trouble. And this woman dripped of it.

“You must have me mistaken for someone else.”

“Relax, darling. I’m a witch.”

No, you’re not.
“I see.”

“But you’re something else. The crystal feels warmer with you. You’re bigger.”

He fought the urge to finger the lamp around his neck. He didn’t like where this was going at all and tried to refocus her attention on the only other thing she seemed concerned about. Herself. “And where does a lovely lady like you call home?”

Predictably, the woman flew off into everything about her life. Her car, her home in Oklahoma, her cats, all black of course, and every shiny thing on the street that caught her attention. She talked the entire trip and didn’t stop when they arrived.

She nipped his heels up the steps and through the doors of the hotel. He made sure to get behind her in the check-in line, not at all eager to have her overhear his info. A family of five waited among the group and he let them go ahead to put some distance between himself and Red.

She didn’t take the hint, doubling back to him in the line. “So I’ve got my room. I could use some food and company. What do you think about—?”

“What’s your room number?”

The slag didn’t even have to look down. “522.”

He repeated it, for her sake, and watched her slither off.

Chapter Four

––––––––

T
he hotel was sold out, as was the next one and the one after that. She was about to haul off and go for a fourth when she felt
it
.

Or rather, him.

“Tig?”

“Of all the hotels, you just had to walk into mine. After you hung up on me.  There are a lot of pissed off wishes flying around here. Please tell me your battery died.”

“It didn’t.”

“Wow.”

“Wait. I mean...” She fished around in her purse before waving the busted phone in the air. “It’s gone and I didn’t want to bother you.”

Tig’s face relaxed for a split second, before it tightened up again. “You were headed in the direction of the doors.”

“No rooms. Plus the rest of my luggage is gone. Oh, I don’t have the alcohol on hand required to tell this story. That’s not a wish so much as a statement of fact. But, you thought I hung up on you?”

“What else could I think?”

“And you were upset?”

“I don’t care for that growing, satisfied curl on your lips. You talk too much.” Tig snatched her suitcase and wheeled it to the concierge desk. “This goes to Room 301. Hurry.”

“Mighty presumptuous of you,” she said when he took her hand in his.

“I think I stand on fairly solid ground. And you’re welcome.” His eyes widened and ran down the length of her body. Without bothering to pull her to the side, his lips grazed her ear and the hand on her back dipped lower. “It occurs to me that you’re walking around with tights I split to have you. I could take you upstairs and order room service, but then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of watching you sit across from me, knowing that underneath a thin slip of fabric, you’re naked to the world. ”

“This whole alpha male thing is really working for me right now.”

Tig’s head rocked back in a deep-throated laugh that had most of the lobby turning in their direction. She looked down, face warm, but her smile didn’t go away. Neither did the lust. She’d spent a good chunk of time cleaning up in a bathroom. One look from him now and she was back where she started.

Around her, women stared openly at them. She couldn’t tell that by looking at Tig, though. All his attention was on her.  It wasn’t a new feeling. She could get, catch and throw back any man she wanted. Yet, here was one she hoped to keep around for a bit.

Sorta.

A lot.

She wasn’t stupid enough to think he felt the same way.

But...well...it wasn’t like he
didn’t
have options.

On the other hand, he had a good one hundred and fifteen years on her. That was long enough to learn how to seduce a woman and make her believe he wanted only her.

...or realize you’d found the one you wanted to be with.

Good gracious, she didn’t know what to think.

“Dinah?”

“Huh? Sorry, what’d you say?”

Warm hands latched around her waist and pulled her from the wall. “This hotel has three restaurants – a sports bar, formal dining and something listed as ‘family friendly.’ I think that’s code word for rows of coughed on tables. Let’s do formal. I wouldn’t mind seeing you in something slinky.”

“Remember what I said about needing liquor?  They lost my other suitcase. I have no real clothes—”

“Finally, some good news.” But he didn’t look excited and kept glancing over her head as if expecting someone he didn’t want to see.

“Other than what was in my carry on, I’m SOL. They have no idea where my stuff is. So let’s put sexy aside.”

Strange, but he looked relieved at the prospects of going inside the crowded family restaurant. There was no place to move. It was the kind of crush of people that made seeing anyone in particular an impossible task. He almost looked like he was hiding from someone. Stupid thought. She pushed it aside and let him lead the way.

Between her wishes and his winks, they were pushed ahead of the grumbling, waiting, hordes and settled into a booth in the back. She slid in first, but instead of taking the opposite seat, he brushed his thigh against hers and dropped his arm across her shoulders.

It didn’t feel bad.

“The whole menu is full of sandwiches. There’s no actual food.”

“It’s a hotel.”

“In a huge city and within sight of a major international airport.”

She wiped grease smears from the peeling laminated menu with the sole napkin on the table. “A prima donna djinn?” 

He threw down a petulant, “No. Some fucking standards, that’s all I’m asking for.”

“I shiver to think where I stand on that list.”

“I shiver when I think of you standing before me.”

“You don’t have to say those things.”

“It’s the truth. When I imagine you naked in ripped hose and a bra...I swear to you that my dick twitches every single time.  I can count the hours I’ve known you and yet I can’t get you out of my head. It’s taking everything I have not to throw you on this table and shove—”

“Drinks? Appetizer?”

While Tig grumbled about being sick and tired of helpful people, she ordered for the both of them from the crook of his arm, including a supersized margarita. He amended this to include a brandy for himself.

“You two are so cute. How long have you been together?”

“Umm...”

“Not nearly long enough,” Tig said. “But I intend to change that when we get back home. There are certain things a man just knows.”

*****

T
hat pulling sensation crept back, the one that cinched him closer to her. Was she his? Yep. Would he tell her? Nope. His father’s advice would have been to club her over the head and drag her into his lamp, but this was a modern woman with weird sensibilities about self-ownership and shit.

He’d get her, no question; he just had to let her think she was in control.

She looked at him over the rim of her glass and winked. Ah, hell...she
was
in control. His heart ached with it and he sleeved some sweat off his brow.

What choice did he have?

Djinns needed mates. You couldn’t spend eons alone. Maybe he hadn’t expected it to happen so early in his life, but there she sat, slurping on that straw like it was her job.

“Is something on my mouth?”

He let out a whoosh of air at the thought
that
produced. “Tell me about yourself. Work? Friends? Boyfriends I need to eviscerate?”

“Courier, a few and not at the moment.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Oh?”

“I haven’t had a good evisceration in years. So, a courier?”

“I’m waiting for the broom joke.”

He held up a palm in mock surrender. The move worked best with two hands, but he rather liked having the other around her. “No jokes from me. It keeps you out of the office and on your own time. I can appreciate that. If you had a guy in town, in a very stately manse just outside the city and on the water, such a career might allow you to swing by...for lunch.”

“And what do you presume I might be eating?”

“Can’t say, but I know what I intend to be slurping up.” It was the night he intended to have for himself. And many more, if he played his cards right. That was the one hangup with these mate issues. Djinn fell...couldn’t help it. But mates could, and had, walked away without a second thought.

He jerked as her hand landed on his. “You have that look again. That’s the thinking-real-hard-one and not the happy one. Look, I know we just met and I get that. I don’t have any expectations. This is a wild and insane thing we’re doing and well, let’s just leave it at that. I promise that as soon as I get my phone fixed, I’m deleting your number.”

His heart, one that had beat for ages, rushed its way to the wrong side of a billion miles per hour. “What?”

“I’ll leave it up to you. So, I hope you call, but no pressure. I won’t be that girl slaving after and chasing some man. That ain’t my style.”

“But when I call, I repeat, when, you’ll answer.”

Time caught up to its normal speed when she grinned and nodded. 

“Handcuffs,” he asked.

“Huh?”

“Leather?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Dripping in jewels? Spanking? Oh, please yes.”

“Shush! There are children in the next booth over. What are you saying?” She dropped her voice and leaned in until he could feel her mouth moving against his chest. “Handcuffs? Spankings?”

BOOK: The Genie's Witch (Dirty Djinn)
4.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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