Bound to Seduction

CHAPTER THREE

Mira spent the rest of her day doing anything she could to take her mind off what had happened.

As she scrubbed the inside of her fridge, she knew only one thing for certain: Tariq was real. She hadn’t imagined their meeting or his poofing in and out of her living room. He was real. He wanted to grant her a wish. And he was a genie.

Her hand paused against the glass shelf. Holy hell. He was a genie. Even if he didn’t like to use that word, that was exactly what he was. The poof of black smoke when he’d disappeared and reappeared was as much an indication of that as was the fact he was bound to the opal.

She lifted her hand, almost touched the stone at her chest, then stopped short. She wasn’t ready to call him back. Not yet. She needed to think.

Forget thinking. She tossed the sponge into the sink across the room and ripped off her yellow latex gloves. What she needed to do was research.

She wound into her home office, sat in the chair behind her desk, and opened her laptop. An hour later, after filling her brain with enough djinn mythology to make her head ache, she was still confused.

He’d said some djinn were good. That they granted wishes. Yet her research said otherwise. It was the last few lines about his tribe—the Marid—that she couldn’t stop thinking about:

Few in number, very powerful. According to folklore, Marid have the ability to grant wishes to mortals; however, they usually only do so when forced by a master.

Mira sat back in her chair, fingered the chain at her neck. Remembered Tariq standing proud and warrior-like in front of her. Why would a djinni from the Marid tribe—which, according to her research, was the most powerful, the most proud, the most conservative of the six tribes when it came to interactions with humans—grant any kind of wish to a mere mortal? Everything she’d read said members of his tribe stuck together. Why would he care about her wants and needs? About any human’s wants and needs?

Her fingers drifted down the chain, hovered just above the opal. She’d taken it off earlier, then put it back on. The shop owner had said once she made her wish she wouldn’t be able to take it off until her wish was fulfilled. While the thought of it being locked around her neck for any extended length of time made her more than a little claustrophobic, she felt safe in the fact she controlled the situation. And that it was up to her to call Tariq back or not.

He wasn’t going to hurt her, of that she was sure as well. But was he offering her this deal because he wanted to? Or because he was being forced…for whatever reason?

Her thoughts drifted to Devin. Yes, she wanted him to notice her, but she wasn’t willing to do just anything to get him. Before she decided if she was really going to go through with this whole wish-fulfillment thing, she needed to find out more about Tariq.

Slowly, she pushed out of her chair, then paused in the doorway. Her bedroom sat to the left, the living room to the right. Darkness pressed in through the windows, telling her night had fallen while she’d been researching. A smart woman would go to bed, sleep on this decision before acting. But every time she thought about moving into her bedroom, she remembered Claudette’s claims.

Wicked pleasure, mind-numbing fantasies, your heart’s every secret, sinful desire come true.

Followed by the image of Tariq. Tall, broad, so very muscular. Dark and dangerous, radiating a sexuality even Devin couldn’t compete with. Then she heard Tariq’s deep, sexy voice when he’d said, I am yours to command. For however long it takes until you are thoroughly satisfied.

Her blood warmed. Shot sparks of need through her limbs, into her abdomen to spread rolling waves of heat across her hips and between her thighs. She gripped the doorframe for support.

“Oh God.” She would not survive a night fantasizing about him and that. She needed to know more. Now.

On unsteady legs, she made her way out into the living room, flipped on a lamp, and sat on the edge of the couch. Thankfully, it was Friday, and she didn’t have to go to work tomorrow. So it didn’t matter if this “discussion” lasted awhile or not. She didn’t have to be up early. And if the discussion turned into something else…

She swallowed hard at the erotic visions taking shape in her mind. The ones not of her and Devin, as she’d often dreamed, but of her and Tariq. Both naked and sweaty and breathless.

Her pulse picked up speed, and she swiped a hand over her suddenly damp forehead. Told herself to get a grip. That wasn’t why she was calling him back. Before she could change her mind, she brushed her fingers over the opal and held her breath to see if he’d appear.

A cloud of black smoke filled the center of the room then slowly dissipated, leaving Tariq standing in the same clothes he’d worn earlier. Only this time, those obsidian eyes, that fall of dark hair that just brushed his shoulders, and that insanely sharp jawline covered in scruff shot a thrill to her very core, not fear and apprehension as it had before.

“Mira,” he whispered, the corners of his lush lips curling ever so slightly. “Your wish, my command.”

Heat and need rippled right back through her abdomen, brought a flush to her cheeks. Every time he used the word command, she seemed to grow hotter.

She cleared her throat. Could tell from his waiting expression that he thought by calling him back it meant she wanted to begin their…what? Deal? Wish? Yet she hadn’t even told him what she wanted. And when she did…

Her blood went white-hot when she thought of what she wanted. And how he would work into that wish.

On shaky legs she stood, and when he took a step toward her, that thrill turned to excitement, but she held up a hand to stop him—and her. “Wait. I have some questions first.”

His eyes narrowed in speculation. But his expression cleared and settled before she could wonder what he was thinking. “Ask me anything. I am yours to command.”

Command. There was that word again. Only this time it didn’t sound sexy as it had before. It sounded…forced. She dropped her hand, swallowed the nerves, feeling both foolish and a little disturbed. But this was important. She didn’t want to be with someone—even if it was just a wish—who didn’t want to be with her. Even if he was a super-hot genie sent to fulfill her every desire.

“I did some research while you were gone,” she said. “And I believe you. What you told me…it’s crazy.” She looked around the room, only half-believing she was saying this. “Twenty-four hours ago, I never would have thought this was possible, but now…everything is different.” She looked back at him. “But before we move on to my, ah, wish, I need to know one thing.”

When he only stared at her, she shifted her feet and forced herself to go on. “Are you here by choice? Or are you being forced by some…master…to fulfill my wish?”

Her heart thumped hard. So hard she was sure it had to be bruising a few ribs. And under his heated stare, she couldn’t read him. Didn’t have a clue what he was thinking. Or feeling—if anything. Did djinn even have feelings?

“You researched me,” he said slowly, still staring at her.

“Yeah. Well, not you specifically,” she managed, though her throat was thick with nerves. “But your tribe. And everything I read says those from the Marid tribe keep to their own realm. They don’t cross over into the mortal world like the Jinn and Jann tribes do. Like the Shaitans and Ghuls.” She swallowed back the rising sickness when she remembered what she’d read about the last two djinn tribes. While the Jinn and Jann were mostly just curious about humans, the Shaitans and Ghuls preyed on both the living and the dead, loved to torment and destroy whenever they could. She’d been so relieved Tariq was not one of them.

“You researched me,” he said again.

“Yeah,” she repeated, twisting her hands together. “Does that bother you?”

“No, Mira,” he said softly. “It does not bother me. It…surprises me. No one in all my long years of servitude has ever gone to the trouble of trying to learn more about me.”

His admission sent pleasure through her chest, and a smile curled her mouth. But the elation was dampened when she realized he’d used the word servitude.

The warmth dimmed. “So you are being forced to be here with me.”

He took a step toward her and, before she could think to stop him, ran his palm across her cheek, cupping her face and looking down at her with eyes that were soft inky pools of…confusion.

Heat rushed in again.

He brushed his thumb across her cheek, the simple touch sending tongues of wicked fire licking through her torso. “You are unlike any mortal I have ever met.” His gaze drifted down, and he ran the fingers of his other hand across the opal nestled in the top of her cleavage. “While it is true I am bound to the Firebrand and am forced to serve, for the first time in forever, I feel…tempted.”

Tempted was good, right? It meant at least part of him wanted to be here with her. Or so she hoped.

She held her breath. Waited. His gaze lifted back to hers. And someplace deep inside her went dark with desire at the longing she saw reflected in his sinfully wicked eyes. Longing she had put there.

“Who are you, Mira Dawson? And why do you have this strange effect on me?”

Tariq wasn’t sure if he was dreaming, fantasizing, or just plain finally going nuts after all the years Zoraida had kept him locked up. But even if this was some schizophrenic hallucination, he didn’t care. Mira had researched his tribe. She’d truly cared whether he was forced to be with her or not. No one—not a single human he’d granted wishes to in all those years—had once thought of him. What he wanted, what he needed. Not a single one had looked at him as anything more than a lowly genie.

But not her. Right now, staring up at him with those hypnotic hazel eyes, she was looking at him as if he was a man.

Which was a huge misconception he should remind her of. He was not a man. Had never been a man. He was djinn. The heir to his kingdom. A lethal warrior who had commanded armies. One who had eventually been captured, tortured, and condemned into slavery. But none of that mattered right now—not even his failures. All that mattered was her. And this tiny moment of relief he’d found because of her.

“I’m…no one special,” she said softly, breaking his train of thought. “I’m just…me.”

She was more, though. Something in the center of his chest said she was much more.

“Tell me your wish, Mira.”

She looked down at his T-shirt. And again he watched a blush creep across her cheeks. A blush that excited him with each passing second. “I…it’s a little embarrassing.”

“Nothing you wish for will shock me.” Especially because he was already starting to think of all the ways he could pleasure her. And was actually looking forward to them. Which was a first for him. A big first.

“This might,” she mumbled. Then, drawing in a breath, she looked back at his face. “I want to learn about…seduction.”

When he opened his mouth to ask how she wanted to be seduced, she held up a hand, stopping him. “Before you ask, no, I’m not a virgin. I’ve had boyfriends. And I like men. I like sex. But…”

She hesitated. Bit her lip. Looked back down at his shirt. And he waited because he sensed this was hard for her. And because the way her top teeth sank into her bottom lip was so damn sexy, he had a wicked, all-consuming urge to take a bite out of her himself.

“Oh, man,” she said. “This is so embarrassing.” Then she squared her shoulders and met his eyes again. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’m the first one in my family to go to college. My parents were both blue-collar workers who couldn’t afford to send me to school and worked extra jobs so I could go. I sacrificed partying and boys in favor of studying so I could make them proud. Then, when I graduated, I was focused on getting a job to prove to them their sacrifices were worth it. And I did. I got a great job. I love my job. And it was enough. Until my dad got sick a few years ago. I found myself torn between work and helping my mom when I could, but all the while I was starting to feel as if something was missing. Yeah, I’ve had boyfriends, but no one special, you know? I guess a relationship didn’t matter much to me before, so maybe I didn’t try hard enough. Then my dad died last year, and my mom went to live with my aunt in Idaho, and suddenly I found myself…”

“What?” he asked before he could stop himself, mesmerized by her words, her voice, that she was sharing something so personal with him.

She looked back up at him. And there was such regret in her eyes, he couldn’t look away, even if he’d wanted to.

“Alone,” she said softly. “I’m alone.”

His heart thumped as she closed her eyes, shook her head. Opened them with a look of longing that speared straight to the center of him. The same longing he felt on a daily basis.

“I don’t want to be alone,” she said, “but I’ve a feeling something I’m doing consciously or subconsciously when I meet men is sending the impression I’m not interested, even though I am. I’m not asking you to turn me into some Playboy bunny, I’m just asking you to help me learn how to be more…desirable. I want to know that when I do meet that right man—if I haven’t already—that I’m confident and skilled enough for him to want me just as much.”

His pulse picked up speed. Was she asking him to…?

“I’m assuming that, typically, you’re the one who does the”—her cheeks turned red all over again, and she swallowed, looking at his throat rather than his face—”pleasuring. But if you don’t mind—and you’re up for it—I’d like to be the one to do that. Maybe you can tell me what I’m doing right. Or wrong. If, that is, it’s okay with you…”

She finally met his gaze full on, and his breath caught at the hope he saw reflected in her eyes.

“So your wish,” he managed in a voice that didn’t sound like his own because he was still too surprised to think clearly, “is to…?”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “My wish is to pleasure you. What do you think?”