His Command

by Sophie H. Morgan

“In a minute.” He took her hand and nibbled a string of nipping kisses along the sensitive skin of her palm. The way he looked at her made her wet.

  Then he released her, backing away until his hips nudged the couch. “Strip,” he said in that low, gravelly tone.

  She paused. “What?”

  “Strip for me.” His gaze dipped. “I want to see all of you.”

  A wash of embarrassment battled with desire.

  How about you strip and I’ll keep bra and panties on until we get down to the good stuff?

  Not that she thought he’d point and jeer, but what if he didn’t like what he saw? What if he changed his mind? And didn’t this usually happen in the moment when your mind was clouded by pleasure and you didn’t even think about the fact that you were naked? Didn’t he know how these things worked?

  Patient, he waited, though his muscles were all tensed when she looked across at him.

  C’mon, Hailey, she told herself. It’s Ryder.

  If she was going to do this, she might as well go all in.

  With a shaky breath, Hailey flipped her hair over one shoulder. “As you command.”

  Amusement glittered as he dipped his head in a regal nod.

  Her hands went to the buttons of her cardigan, stalling when Shania Twain’s “Man! I Feel like a Woman!” suddenly started playing.

  She cast him a filthy look.

  His grin grew wider, but he changed the song with a flick of his hand to something with a down ’n’ dirty beat, perfect for stripping. He’d probably used the song before for his other . . . encounters.

  His other women were probably great at stripteases—he’d already seen an example of her technique, or lack of, last night. She dithered, wondering if she should rock her hips more or if that’d look like she was having some sort of fit.

  “Not that two open buttons don’t excite me, Hales, but I’m gonna need the whole lot off.” Though his words were teasing, his gaze searched hers as if wondering if she was changing her mind.

  She firmed her jaw. Jesus. Get out of your head.

  To the thudding bass beat, Hailey locked gazes with Ryder. It was better when she looked into them, saw him, and it relaxed her enough to smile, to undo the rest of the buttons. She slipped out of her cardigan and tossed it to him.

  He caught it, lifting an eyebrow at the rest.

  She went slowly, showing a little before the lot. Some powerful feminine instinct kicked in, guiding her on how to make Ryder crazy, how to make his breaths come harsher, his hands clench on that cardigan until its life was in jeopardy.

  His breath came out on a curse as she stripped off her jeans to reveal the sexy two-piece teal lingerie she’d bought at Victoria’s Secret last week. The fact that she’d bought it after Rome had no bearing on the matter at all.

  He threw her cardigan down and caught her before she unhooked the bra. “No.” His voice was even deeper, a bass that rumbled along her skin and made her shiver.

  “W-what about you?” The wobble in her voice was created by the feel of his warm, rough hands against her bare skin. Her belly tightened even further. The ache widened its jaws.

  Ryder shook his head. “If I take off my clothes, this won’t last long.”

  “I knew your stamina was all talk.”

  “You Googled, huh?”

  The blush sizzled her already hot cheeks. She’d Googled.

  He dipped his head and pressed a wet kiss to the side of her neck. “What else did it say?”

  She stretched onto her toes, biting her lip. “No way. I’m not feeding that ego.”

  “All good then.” He caught her mouth in a searing kiss. “Better make sure I live up to it.”

  Panties. On. Fire. Kings of Leon could do another song about it.

  “Bedroom,” she repeated between urgent kisses.

  Instead, Ryder backed her so her bottom hit the kitchen table. His gaze was like a brand. “Lie back.”

  She laughed nervously. “You can’t mean . . . on the table?”

  “I want to taste you.” Ryder’s smile was knife sharp. “Where better?”

  Jesus. Could she . . . ?

  Holding his gaze, she inched up and onto the table, using her hands to slide back a bit. His hands settled on her bare thighs, rubbing slowly, before they urged them apart.

  Hailey licked her lips as she obeyed.

  The top of his head shone black as he knelt before her like a worshipper. His lips touched the inside of her ankle, making her jump.

  “Do you know how sexy you are, Hailey?” This murmured as he learned her legs with his lips and hands, pushing the breath from her with each swipe of his tongue.

  Her heart thundered so loud she was amazed he couldn’t hear it. “I’m getting an idea,” she managed, fisting a hand so she wouldn’t grab his head and yank him up. Pleasure nibbled with his teeth.

  He positioned her legs so they were over his shoulders. It was almost obscene looking at his head between her thighs, so strange, yet so sexy. And if he didn’t do something soon, she was going to go off like a Fourth of July rocket.

  And that would be embarrassing since her underwear was still on.

  Her back met the table as he pressed a chaste kiss on her mound through the underwear. She couldn’t help it; her spine had gone walkabout. A moan rumbled up her throat as he kissed his way down and moved the underwear aside.

  When he tasted her, it was like everything switched on. Electricity poured from every which way, nerves sizzling as she cried out. His lips, his tongue, his teeth, they were the center of her world as she writhed on the table. He was magic, magic in more ways than his job.

  Her orgasm hit with blinding force, actually bowing her off the table as she clutched the wood. Her legs must have clamped around his head but he kept going until every shred of pleasure had been dragged from her.

  Her bones had left to join her spine, she realized as she came back to reality, limp on the table. She swept a lazy hand across the surface. She might have it bronzed.

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” Ryder moved from between her legs, licking his lips as if savoring her.

  Not as experienced as him, the sight made her simultaneously blush and tingle. “Don’t what?” She was stunned at her voice, sexy, husky. Siren.

  “Relax.” He leaned over her and kissed her, his hand cupping her cheek.

  Just like that, she couldn’t. The feel of him created a ricochet of pleasure that fired up her hormones.

  “Bedroom,” she said for the third time.

  This time, he followed through.

  Thank God for flashing, she thought as they were in her bedroom a split second later.

  She pushed at his T-shirt as they met in a frenzied kiss, needing to see what had thrived in her imagination since she’d met him.

  Obeying, he pulled it off, throwing it somewhere in the darkness.

  “Too dark. Need light,” she mumbled as he caught her lips again.

  He waved an absent hand and dozens of pillar candles appeared, all with tiny beams of light. They arranged themselves on her antique dresser, on the floor, on her bookcase, her end table.

  She didn’t even blink. All her attention focused on him, breath strangling in her throat. Muscles roped his stomach, his arms, his pecs dusted with the right amount of dark hair. That tapered into a treasure trail where the X was hidden beneath denim.

  His smile made everything melt. He shucked his jeans and underwear in one smooth move and stood with a cocky stance before her. Cocky being the word there. The big word.

  Hailey’s tongue touched her lips as she stared at him.

  “If you look at me like that . . .”

  “Sorry,” she said faintly. “I’ve never . . . It’s . . .” She breathed in, aching. “Gimme.”

  Once they’d moved to the bed, time meant nothing. It was lost beneath his body, so hard and perfect above her, his cock grinding where she needed it as she clutched his arms. Her bra disappeared somewhere around the millionth kiss and coo
l air hit her nipples. He loved them, sucked them, bit them until she was writhing against him. Her skin was so tight it hurt.

  “Ryder,” she gasped. White lights flickered beneath her closed lids. “I’m gonna . . .”

  “Come,” he growled, his fingers stealing down to her mound, pressing.

  She came on a silent scream, everything locked down.

  Sweat misted Ryder’s forehead. His muscles were tense, his cock rigid, urgent as she came back for more.

  His fingers tickled her clit again, making her flinch. “You attached to this underwear?”

  Hailey shook her head.

  The fragile panties ripped easily as he tore them. He positioned himself at her entrance, hot and hard and so damn perfect. Thoughts were filled with one-word demands, graphic images.

  “Now, Ryder,” she pleaded.

  She was so wet, he thrust in without a hitch, not stopping until she’d taken every inch. They stilled, both absorbing the insane pleasure of it.

  He vibrated above her, his eyes locked to hers in the candlelight. “You . . . good?”

  In answer, Hailey ground up against him, needing the friction, needing him to move.

  And God, did he, every thrust deliberate, every stroke against her G-spot. Her cries grew more urgent, his moans deeper.

  “Hailey,” he rasped. “You’re so wet. Silk.”

  She bit down on his shoulder, filling her mouth with him. All she needed was . . . one . . . more . . . good . . .

  Pleasure flooded her with electric light. His name chanted through her lips as she rode the wave, as he continued to pump inside her.

  “Christ,” he ground out, his hips moving faster and faster before he froze. His head tipped back as he roared her name.

  Finally, they both stilled. Ryder rolled them so she was draped on top of him, one hand tangled in her hair. They were a mess, sweaty, disheveled, panting.

  And she’d loved every minute.

  “Again,” Ryder grated after a moment.

  Hailey managed to find the strength to lever her head up. “Are you crazy?”

  “You questioned my stamina.” The hand tangled in her hair urged her head closer. He bit her lip. “You won’t ever again.”

  * * *

  Luka placed the phone back in its cradle. With a thoughtful air, he swung around in his office chair to face the wall of windows that revealed New York at night. All the sound was muffled up here, but he imagined he could hear the mortals hurrying to fit everything they wanted to do into the time they had left. It was what made mortals react the way they did, so emotional and fraught. It was why they loved so passionately, because they knew at any minute it could be taken away from them.

  It was fascinating to a man who’d been a Genie too long to recall how it really felt to live like a mortal.

  On that note, he palmed his cell from his pocket and punched speed dial one. “Clare,” he said when she answered. “Naomi Lole called me. She was sent a tip about a certain couple going horseback riding.”

  “As far as I’m aware, horseback riding isn’t conclusive evidence of intimacy.”

  “Depends on which way the girl’s facing.”

  Her sigh was gusty. “I presume you have a point for calling me?”

  “Nah. I just like you.”

  He swore he could hear her teeth grinding. “What else did Naomi Lole say?” Perfectly polite, the words could’ve been carved from ice.

  He grinned. “She’s got photos of Ryder and Hailey Lawson full-on smooching. Her words. Apparently, the photos are so hot, they could burn your hands. Or melt, in your case.”

  “Good.” She ignored his ice-queen reference. “Did you give her an official comment as his Handler?”

  “The usual. How WFY doesn’t interfere with its employees’ lives, but that we continue to be pleased that one of our Genies has potentially met his future wife. And I wondered aloud if it was becoming an epidemic, our Genies becoming romantically involved with their winners.”

  “Good.” Satisfaction hummed in Clare’s icy voice.

  “He must like her,” Luka said, watching as a bird hopped onto the lip outside his window. It pecked at the concrete as if expecting a worm. He conjured one with a flick of his hand. “Rome, I understood. He usually takes his women to glamorous cities. But horseback riding?”

  “And you’re supposing because he took her somewhere that has a personal connection it’s more than simple sex?”

  Luka smiled as the bird flew away, worm in its beak. “Ryder steers clear of women he could connect to, except this one woman. He can’t stay away from her. Like Jax.”

  “Jax was an aberration. Ms. Donahue came along at the right time in his life.”

  “I say Ryder brings Hailey to Leo’s party at the end of October.”

  “What does that prove?”

  “Bringing a woman to a family party? Hell, that’s more intimate than anything they’re doing in bed together right now.” Luka slung his legs over the side of his chair. “So, do we have a bet?”

  “I don’t gamble.”

  “No stakes. Just the knowledge that I know people better than you do.”

  “You romanticize everything. I see them as they are.”

  Luka smiled. “Then we have a bet.” And they’d see who knew mortals better.

  22.

  The photos of them landed in the paper the next morning.

  Ryder had convinced Hailey to take a few hours at home to “work,” when really he had every intention of going for a fifth time. The woman made him crazy. The scent of her, the way she looked at him, the little moans she made. Not to mention the blush that moved into her cheeks every time he suggested something other than strict missionary.

  She had so much to learn, and he had so much to teach her. Strictly casually, of course, and all according to the rules.

  He didn’t mind her need to define their affair—especially when it coincided so well with what he always wanted with a woman. If keeping a mental rule book made her relax and able to let go, then she could laminate it for all he cared.

  What really mattered was that, even though they’d only known each other two weeks, Ryder could already see a boost in her ego, a subtle feminine knowledge that put a seductive sway into her step. He figured some of that had to be down to him. And that made his morning extra sweet.

  He whistled a tune as he slid two slices of bread into the skillet. It felt like a French toast morning.

  Ryder deftly finished the toast, sprinkling it with brown sugar. He slid it onto a plate for Hailey before making his own.

  Halfway through his, his phone rang. He nudged it between shoulder and ear as he finished his own off. “Yello?”

  “Have you seen the Star this morning?”

  At the sound of Luka’s voice, Ryder frowned. “Haven’t been up long.”

  “Your secret’s out.”

  “Damn, I knew I should’ve come clean about the dead bodies in the basement.” Ryder flipped the toast with a spatula. “What secret?”

  “That you and Hailey have . . . taken it to the next level. Or to call a Genie a Genie, you’ve seduced her.”

  “Hey,” Ryder protested, waving the spatula. Butter splattered Hailey’s cupboards. He vanished the offending butter off with a thought. “She seduced me.”

  “You poor thing. I’ll put you in for counseling.” Luka sounded amused, not pissed, which relieved Ryder somewhat. His Handler hadn’t forbidden him to have sex with Hailey—which, really, he couldn’t have—but he could have made life harder for Ryder.

  He exhaled. “Is the Director mad the fictional affair’s turned into fact?”

  “I’ll handle her.”

  “Thanks, Luc”

  “No worries. So, c’mon. Where was she on the heat-o-meter? A scorching ten? A wet-lettuce two?”

  The spatula bent in his hand. It wasn’t unusual to have Luka ask, but ranking Hailey made Ryder feel . . . pissed. “Don’t go there, Luka.”

  A beat before
his Handler spoke. “I see. It’s like that.”

  Ryder scowled. “Like what?”

  “Different.”

  As if. Yeah, he liked her, but all that meant was that they were having more fun than usual.

  No. Not more fun than usual.

  The same fun as usual.

  Annoyed, Ryder shoved the toast onto his plate and banged the skillet back on the stove. “It’s the same.”

  “Then score her.” Luka waited as Ryder struggled. “Can’t do it, can you?”

  “Thanks for the heads-up about the Star.” He jabbed the end-call button on his Handler’s laugh and thrust his cell back in his jeans pocket. Damn it. He shouldn’t have gotten wound up—that was Luka’s specialty, and the fact that Ryder had reacted would only make the Genie worse.

  At his gesture, a copy of that morning’s Star appeared on the table. No surprise, front and center was a picture of him and Hailey in black and white, wrapped around each other like a stripper and her pole. FROM SNAGGING A WISH TO BAGGING A GENIE screamed the headline.

  Ryder picked the paper up and studied the article. Basic stuff, how it was becoming clear the way to score a Genie was to win a wish. Thank God nothing about the auction particulars. He thought they’d gotten away with that one. The press was definitely more intrigued by the romance than anything else.

  His eyes narrowed. Damn interfering Handler. He’d bet his balls that Luka and Director Clare had planted this. Hordes of people would be lining up for lottery tickets as soon as they finished their morning papers. He’d agreed to the show, but this further publicity made his back teeth grind.

  He so owed Luka a nut kick.

  “Morning.”

  Ryder glanced up as Hailey came out of her bedroom wearing nothing more than his white tee and a blush. The long thighs he’d slid between last night were barely covered by his shirt. As it should be.

  He smiled as the familiar lust stirred. Simple, fun. Uncomplicated. As it always was. “I made you breakfast.”

  “You didn’t have to.” Delight lit her eyes to a dancing green as she wandered closer. “But I love French toast.” She sat and folded her arms. “So how many women have enjoyed the Ryder Wood special?”

  He tossed the paper on the table. This called for a distraction.