Christian shrugged his wide shoulders. “Of course you do, sweet lips. You know exactly how you got me here. If anyone should be asking questions, it's me. Like, why are you pretending to be a witch?"
"It's a vast conspiracy to take over the witch world by scorned wife genies everywhere,” Felicity half joked. “I'm not a genie, Christian. I'm not your wife either. Maybe we bear a striking resemblance, but I am not your wife. I'm a witch and I have the parents to prove it."
Christian sighed with a long puff of air. “Fine. Whatever the game is that we're playing, I'll play along. How's that? I know you enjoy a good chase, muffin."
Muffin this. “How can you help me with my magic anyway? I'm a witch. You're a genie. Ya know, like rub the lamp and stuff, and if you're a genie, why haven't I been offered my three wishes?"
"I can help you to memorize these spells you seem so determined to master and you didn't get any wishes because you're my wife. Family and any family members of the Djinn are null and void from participating."
Could he really help her? Felicity gnawed on the inside of her cheek with unsure teeth. What could a genie teach a witch? “But you still aren't my husband,” Felicity stated flatly.
Christian pulled her closer and molded her to him. “Okey-doke. You believe what you want to. For now, I have no bottle. How about we cut a deal? I help you and you get your broom. In the meantime, I have a place to stay."
Her broom.
Damn it all, she really needed her broom. Her parents would never forgive the wasted money on this damn flunky school if she didn't leave with a broom. Plus, Daddy had said he'd buy her that VW bug she wanted if she graduated. Screwing that up probably meant a Geo.
And he did whip up a mighty fine magic carpet...
This was like making a deal with Lucifer himself, wasn't it?
Felicity stuck her hand under his nose. “Deal. But we have some rules that have to be followed. Ya feel me?"
Christian squeezed her a bit harder and nodded. “Oh, I feel ya and—"
"And that deal doesn't include feeling me literally."
Christian let her go, causing Felicity to stumble backwards. He grinned. “You got it, pookey."
Oh, she was going to get it all right ... Pookey...
* * * *
Christian smiled, crossing his hands behind his head and watching the flit of fairy lights twinkle on the ceiling above him. Life was good. He had a place to hang his carpet and a hot chick to do it with.
Who was a clever genie indeed?
Sighing, Christian decided to address the latest concerns between him and his wife.
Essentially, he would be toast if Felicity found out he really wasn't her husband.
You deceptive magic maker, you. He was a pig of epic proportions, but that hadn't stopped him from not only trying to make Felicity believe they were married, but also not minding the idea too much himself.
He snorted as he rolled over on her tiny couch and fought the stabs of guilt he was having. Technically, F did own him. After all, she had managed to wrest him from that bottle by whatever half assed witch-like means she'd done it with, but she wasn't his wife.
And he wasn't going to tell her any different.
Misleading?
Er, yep.
Necessary to survival?
Um, double yep.
He'd been in that damn bottle forever. It was true, he had been flirting with starlets when his wife banished him, but it was done out of spite over Fatima's cheating heart.
One minute he was married to Fatima, a woman he'd thought possessed great moral fiber—not to mention, some really sweet curves. The next thing he knew, Fatima was off boffing some damn movie director and Christian was beating the living snot out of him, on his way to find someone who would allow him a divorce. The Djinn weren't happy about divorces, but he'd figured they'd at least hear him out.
Out of nowhere, Fatima whammies him and he's subjected to a life of purgatory in a tiny bottle. She'd caught him completely off guard. He'd been in that freakin’ cushy bottle for eighty-three years and he liked being out of it.
Out was good.
In was bad.
Somehow, the idea of telling Felicity that she was his wife made complete sense to Christian when he'd landed in her bed. Quick thinking had always been one of his strong suits. He was under the mistaken impression only his wife could un-banish him.
So much for impressions.
Sadly, Fatima was dead. He knew because the ring he'd never taken off dissolved from his finger one day as quickly as it had appeared when they'd married. Christian had mourned her, despite his fury at ending up in a bottle and her infidelities. However, that was shortly tempered by the fact that no one knew he was in the damn bottle to begin with. His mother rarely made appearances in his life, so she wouldn't think to worry. Unfortunately, Christian was sure that Fatima had made up some outlandish story to cover herself and Christian's whereabouts. It almost served her right that she'd kicked it in a tragic carpet incident with her latest boyfriend.
Almost.
He'd loved Fatima, regardless of her shenanigans, and there had been plenty of those during their marriage.
Now, there was Felicity, who had a decidedly different effect on him than Fatima had ever had.
Beautiful without even knowing it. A mouth that was as fresh as it was determined to remind him she wasn't his wife. Spirited and bright with some dyslexia thrown in to keep her adorable in his mind.
He'd wanted Felicity from the moment he'd seen her sleeping off her drunk on her bed, her arm above her head and her hair spread in shiny waves across her pillow. It burned his gut with clarity, yet made no sense at all. Christian couldn't quite explain why she aroused him the way she did, but she did. Felicity made him want to protect her and it wasn't just because he was hers by Djinn law.
That she'd summoned him herself, a mistake or not, made it that much easier to attempt to pull this married thing off.
Christian had no plan for the end of their union. Somehow, he had to convince Felicity that keeping him was the smartest thing she could do.
It was the somehow that troubled him.
But for tonight, he was going to bask in this small victory and set about helping Felicity win the coveted broom she had such a hard-on for.
Why she'd want a broom when you could have a magic carpet was beyond him. What could a broom do for you that a magic carpet couldn't? He was also going to keep his promise and keep his hands off of her. It wouldn't be easy, but Felicity needed a lesson in lust. By week's end, she'd be putty.
Well, that was the plan anyway.
Christian scrunched down on the small couch and closed his eyes, thinking Felicity thoughts and just waiting for the moment he could talk her into hittin’ the mattress with him again.
Again, he sighed and smiled.
Life was still pretty good.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Five
"Precious?"
"What, Aladdin?"
"I think you almost did it!"
"Almost doesn't count."
"Almost beats nothing at all."
"Yeah, except for one teensy-weensy detail."
"Well, light of my life. Really now, who couldn't use an extra limb? I'd pass you just on creativity alone. Mothers all over the land will bow down and kiss your feet."
Felicity's giggle was high pitched and nearing hysterical as she looked at Christian's third arm. It might be opaque and shorter than his other two, but it was there, jutting from his side. “I'm sorry, Christian. Dammit! I can't remember the spell."
Christian shrugged his shoulders as his third arm began to disappear and then, took a powder altogether evaporating into the still of Felicity's cottage. “But the point is you almost got it right. Where is this big book of spells anyway? Why don't you let me see it and I'll read them correctly, then we can see where you went wrong and we'll find a way to help you memorize them?"
God, he was nothing sh
ort of helpful. It was making her crazy. He catered to her every need, sometimes without even being asked. For over a week now, since they'd made this deal, he and Felicity had been hard at work over her spell casting. Christian was patient and helpful and she made some small victories along the way as a result. He was a real Dr. Phil. Damn him. He was also one sexy, magical, mystical brick shithouse. All week long they'd remained strictly platonic, despite the secret smiles and occasional passing one another in the kitchen. Each time he moved past her with just the slightest of touches, Felicity was a blazing ball of lust.
Yet he continued to hold up his end of the bargain. She could slap herself for being the genius that had come up with that plan. “Er, no go, Sinbad. I'm not allowed to let anyone see the big book of bad ass spells and I'm not supposed to use it either. I'm just supposed to memorize it. I can't carry a book around when I'm zapping people! Can you just see that? Um, could ya hold on a sec while I look up frogs so I can turn you into one?"
He laughed. “Well, my wannabe witch. If you don't let me see the book I can't devise ways to help you remember the spells I'm not allowed to see, now can I?” His grin was infectious. His dimples were deep grooves on either side of his mouth as he flashed his perfect white teeth at her.
Felicity began to laugh anew. He had a point and he had invested the better part of five hours, a couple of carbonated beverages and an extra limb to help her. “You're right. I'll get the book. It's in my bedroom under my mattress. I keep it there because I hope against hope, every night, that I'll soak some of that hocus pocus up. Stupid, huh?” She yanked the knot from the top of her head out and shook her hair, letting it fall in a tumbled mess around her shoulders.
Christian snapped his fingers and Felicity gasped as the book in question sailed right under her nose and landed on her coffee table, light as a feather.
Well, hell. “How do you do that?"
"I concentrate and poof.” He snapped his fingers again for effect.
I concentrate and poof, she mocked in her head. Poof-schmoof.
"Whhhhyyyy can't I do that?” She was whining and she knew it, but she couldn't seem to stop herself from having magic envy. “Damn, all I want to do is get it right just once. Just once so I can get this stupid broom and go home to do whatever it is that's expected of me in the coven.” Felicity flopped down on the couch and blew a strand of her hair out of her eyes.
Christian came to sit beside her and smiled, running a gentle hand over the top of her head. “I'll help. Promise. Let's not get discouraged just yet.” He grabbed the book and flipped through it. “Show me where this spell is that we've been practicing all afternoon and I'll memorize it, then help you to do the same. What was it we're trying to achieve anyway?"
Rolling her head on her shoulders, Felicity stretched and sighed. “Well, let's see. What did I say when I was casting it?"
"Something about winds of the bird and haste. That doesn't matter, what matters was what you were hoping for as an end result."
"Well, in order to get this stupid broom, I have to be able to cast a series of spells. I already made something appear out of nothing. That would be you. Next I have to transform a living thing into something else. Ya know, like say you're a guy? I turn you into a woman. Then I need to levitate an item. I suck at levitation. The last time I tried levitating something I broke an entire china cabinet. My mother pitched a hissy fit."
"So let's go back to what you were trying to do before I got my extra appendage. That might fall under transformation, yes? You were trying to turn me into a woman?” Christian scowled as he waited for her answer.
Felicity's face turned crimson with guilt as she squirmed in her seat. “I was more like aiming for transforming you into a shiny bauble ... I like jewelry ... A little bling, ya know?"
"Aha! That makes sense. You did say the word arm, which kinda rhymes with charm. A charm ... That's rather blingage like, don't ya think?"
Felicity jumped up. “Oh! You're right! Look up charm,” she said as Christian flipped through the pages, running his finger down the index.
"I think I found it,” he said as he studied a page. “Get out your wand of disaster there, F, and let's try this again."
Felicity grabbed her wand and stood in the middle of the room, pointing it at her armchair. “Ready."
"Now, repeat after me. Winds of change make haste.” Christian's words were slow and melodic, soothing her as he spoke them.
Shoot he was the shit. All yummy and bronzed. It had been driving her insane all week. Okay, it was time to stop thinking of crawling all over him and begin concentrating.
Felicity closed her eyes and repeated the words. “Winds of change make haste."
"This I command carefully placed."
"This I command carefully placed..."
"Bring to me without harm."
"Bring to me without harm,” she mumbled.
"The heavenly beauty of your charm."
"The heavenly beauty of your charm...” Felicity held her breath and made a circle with her new wand, scrunching her eyes shut and pointing it at the armchair as she did.
The eerie hush of the room pricked Felicity's ears and as she popped one eye open. Shitpissfuck!
Christian sighed his frustration too. It sliced into the piercing silence.
In a sudden flood of rage, Felicity threw her coveted wand at the chair and yelped. “I don't get it. Even when I do the spell right, it doesn't work. Dammit all!” Stomping over to the chair she spewed the words once again out of aggravation. “What is so hard about this?” Gritting her teeth, the words flew out of her mouth in a fury of anger and she threw her arms up in despair. “Winds of change make haste. This I command carefully placed. Bring to me without harm, the heavenly beauty of your charm! And could we do that before I'm sent off to some fricken’ menial assistant's desk job?” she yelped to whatever cosmic force would take pity on her.
"Oh, hell,” were the last words Christian muttered and Felicity's ears picked up before the armchair exploded in a flurry of stuffing and bolts as the seams ripped with a sharp tear.
Felicity ducked, covering her head as Christian dove and landed on her, placing his body over hers for protection. She hunkered beneath the shelter of his muscles and waited until the storm passed.
Wrapping his arms around her, Christian held her that way until calm replaced the maelstrom of noise.
"Isitover?” Felicity asked against his forearm, where her lips were smashed against the fine sprinkling of hair.
"I sure hope so. That was hell on my manicure,” a breathy, seductive voice chided.
Their heads snapped up in unison, Felicity's smacking against Christian's chin with a crack, but she paid no mind to his yelp.
Holy spell of the century! “I did it!” Jumping up, Felicity did a little dance of victory. “Do you see her? Ooooooh, my God! I did it!"
Christian's brow furrowed in obvious confusion as he rubbed his chin. “Oh, yeah. I see it, um, her, I mean. Boy did you ever do it...” He rose with the grace of a cat and came to stand beside Felicity. “Um, I think ya done good, F.” He patted her on the back with a thump.
She narrowed her eyes in Christian's direction. “You're drooling,” Felicity accused.
Christian's forearm immediately went to his mouth as he stared at the spot where the armchair used to be.
The voluptuous brunette fluffed her long hair. Her dark eyes, almond shaped and perfect, twinkled with curiosity. A bat of her thick fringe of lashes had Christian gulping. Felicity had to admit, red really was her color ... The dress hugged her outrageous curves like static cling. Who had legs up to their neck anyway? Jezebel...
Felicity swatted his arm. “Quit staring. It's rude!"
"Er, sorry."
"Someone mind telling me how I got here? It's a cute place and all, very homey, but I really need to get to my hair appointment,” the brunette said.
Well, there was an easy answer to that. She'd cast a spell correctly, that's how you got
here, Miss America! Felicity stuck her hand out and approached the woman with a careful step. “I'm Felicity. I'm—well, I'm a witch and I got you here. With a spell. A spell that worked, I might add.” Felicity turned and stuck her tongue out at Christian's still dumbstruck face.
The brunette took her hand and gave it a small squeeze. “Well, good for you! Now, spell me back outta here. I have to get to my hair appointment. Jamal waits for no one."
Hoo, boy. Spell her back outta here. Now came the hard part. “Well, let me see what I can do. I mean, this is the first successful spell I've done and meant for what happened to happen. Ya know?"
Tall, dark and dangerously curved shook her fabulous head. “Um, no. I have no clue what you mean. I only know that I have to go. So c'mon, snap your fingers, wiggle your nose, whatever. Let's get this show on the road."
Felicity shuffled her feet, playing for time. “Why don't you sit for a minute or two? Can I get you something to drink? Oooh, I made fresh lemonade today. It's low in calories,” she cajoled.
"Yeah, why don't you stay for a bit?” Christian repeated while his eyes remained glued on her.
"Hus-band?” Felicity said, putting accent on the word that, according to him, bound them, and looked in Christian's direction. “Come with me and help me get that lemonade."
"Um, k,” he muttered, traipsing behind Felicity with heavy feet.
She cornered him in the kitchen with a finger under his nose. “Would you quit eyeballing the beauty queen and help me, please?"
"What am I supposed to do? You conjured her up. I was just praising your efforts, my beloved mate in connubial bliss. That's called supp-or-tive, wife."
"Yeah, I see that, you sucker for some eye candy. Now, help me! This isn't funny anymore."
"Scuse me.” The brunette poked her head around the corner of the kitchen. “You have guests.” She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb.
"F? Who the hell is this?” Lila chirped, obviously referring to Ms. Bodacious Curves. Lila was firmly planted on Dex's shoulder. Today, her lovely shade of pink was especially flattering. “Oh! It's true, you doooo have a man! It's all over Castoffsphere, F. Everyone is talking about it and we came to see if it was true. So introduce us to your new squeeze."
Werecats and Werelocks (Collection) Page 17
