Smoke, Fire and Desire

by Melinda Barron

  “So many questions,” he rubbed his thumb against her chin and then lifted her lips to his, the kiss light and airy.

  “I’m that type of person,” she said when he released her lips. “I like to know the how and why of things. It’s why I’m a scientist.”

  “Some things just are, with no explanation,” he replied.

  “No, there’s always an explanation. I took a class on mythical creatures in college, as part of an English Lit course. Djinn were discussed in there as being mythical, which as we both know means not real, or fictitious.”

  “Really? Do I feel fictitious to you?” His cock pressed into her soft skin, and she sighed in pleasure. “Was it not real last night, when I was buried deep inside you?”

  “Of course it was real.” She sat up, pulling her knees into her chest. He stayed in place, tracing his fingers up and down her back. Oh he was a flesh and blood man, but she’d already established that. His touch made her insane with desire. “What I don’t understand is your magic.”

  “You’re not supposed to understand it, that’s why it’s called magic, la mia stella.” He kissed the small of her back, sliding his tongue back and forth over the indentation and down to where her buttocks joined.

  Rhylie shivered, hugging her legs tighter as his tongue continued to explore her back. “It’s not fair to distract me while I’m trying to make sense of this.”

  “There is no sense to be made, Rhylie. I am yours for thirty days. Don’t question, just do.” He’d moved behind her now, his legs on either side. He pulled her back into his arms, kissing the top of her head. “My name is Alesandro. I lived in Rome when it was the center of the world. Now I live here, in your time.”

  Her mind reeled at his words. If he lived during the Roman Empire, that would make him—”It can’t be.”

  “Why, because your laws of physics say a body cannot live for almost two thousand years?”

  “It’s not physically possible,” she said, her words so low she could barely hear them herself.

  “Not physically, maybe, but magically, yes.”

  “Have you always been a djinni?”

  “Yes, I was born Djinn, and both my parents, and brothers and sisters still live.”

  “You’re shattering everything I hold to be true. That human life is molecules and tissue that eventually give way and stop working.”

  “A little dose of magic will do you good. Now, tell me a fantasy you have, one that you’ve always wanted to fulfill. It doesn’t necessarily have to be sexual, although that would be a great deal of fun.” His deep chuckle made her laugh. “Don’t tell me you don’t believe in magic. Some little part of your soul does, or you wouldn’t have thought of that.”

  Rhylie turned her head to him. “You can read my mind?”

  “Yes, I can.” He turned her so easily that she wondered if he’d done it by magic. She straddled his lap now, his hard cock against her thigh. “Would you like to eat breakfast, or take part in your first adventure?”

  He pulled her in for a kiss, and she melted in his arms, his lips warm. When he probed for entrance she granted it, welcoming his tongue into her mouth as his hand wrapped around her hair, stroking her head and neck.

  “I can’t go anywhere,” she said, gasping for breath when he was done. “I have work to do.”

  “Your work will be done.”

  Shock shifted through her as she pulled back from him. “Are you planning to clone me?”

  “No, it’s just a little feat of magic.”

  “Messing with people’s minds, you mean. I’m not sure I like that.” She crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to lean into the hand that now caressed her cheek. It was so hard, though. His touch was soft, yet firm, and it made her feel special.

  “You worry too much,” he said softly. “I won’t hurt anyone. It’s not in my nature.”

  The phone rang and Rhylie looked down at Sandro, who smiled. She reached for it, not at all surprised when Tony’s voice sounded in her ear. He spoke for a few minutes as she stared at the man, no the djinni, under her.

  “Vacation?”

  “That’s right, you need one. Take a few weeks, hell, take a month. We’ll make sure everything gets done.”

  “I don’t know, Tony. I have quite a few reports to finish.”

  “They’ll get done.” His voice was in the room now, as if he were standing right next to her. “I’m warning you, Dawson, if I see you in here before the month’s out, you’re fired.” The humor in his voice made her feel better.

  “When did you figure this out?”

  “Why you were gone this weekend, on Saturday night, actually. My wife told me you needed a rest, and I agree. She said a weekend was hardly enough time for you to relax. Go somewhere fun, and bring back lots of pictures. See ya later.”

  He hung up before she could protest, and she put the phone back in the cradle.

  “We should eat before we go,” Sandro said, his hands caressing her thighs. “I’m starving.”

  * * * *

  Rhylie knew she should be cold. After all, it was thirty-six degrees Fahrenheit and the wind was more than brisk. But, somehow she didn’t feel cold. She was wrapped in a warm sweater and coat, items she’d selected for trip. But that wasn’t what kept her warm. It was the heat from Sandro’s body.

  He stood behind her, wearing only a pair of jeans and a white fisherman’s sweater. His black hair hung loosely over his shoulders, and his dark eyes flashed with passion every time she looked at him.

  She still wasn’t sure how they’d gotten here, but she would not ask any more questions about things like that. It was best to just go with the flow. And the flow had taken them to Ireland, and Blarney Castle.

  The structure stood before them, the gray stones in stark contrast to the green grass and shrubbery surrounding it. Hordes of people milled about, tourists looking over brochures and talking with their loved ones. She just stared at the structure, awed that seconds ago she’d been in Maine, in the tiny kitchen of her small apartment, marveling at the different pastries Sandro conjured up for their breakfast. Now she was in Ireland.

  “I’m curious why you choose this for your first journey,” Sandro said softly, putting his hand on her hip and moving her toward the stairs.

  “Would you like me to tell you, or do you just want to read my mind?”

  “Be a good girl now,” he replied. “Answer the question.”

  “My friends tell me I talk too much, about boring things, and well…”

  They started up the stairs, and she stopped talking.

  “Go on.”

  At the top, she moved to the side to let a family move by, then watched as various people performed the age-old ritual of kissing the Blarney Stone.

  “I’ve always wondered what would happen if I kissed the Blarney Stone,” she said. “I’d always wondered if it would give me the gift of gab, as it is reported to do. You know, make it so that I wasn’t so dull.”

  “You’re far from dull, Rhylie.” He stroked her cheek, and the look on his face made her blush.

  “That’s not what I meant. Elsie and Cassidy get angry with me for sprouting trivia all the time. For instance, do you know the origin of the Blarney Stone? Some say it’s the stone Moses used to provide water to the Israelites during their flight from Egypt. Others say it is a stone of magical powers, given to the family who lived in the castle by a witch. Of course, there are other theories, too, some of them dealing with Robert the Bruce and the throne of the Scottish king.”

  “You say you don’t believe in magic, yet your first choice is something magical,” he said, leaning over to kiss her gently.

  She put her hand above his heart, the beat of it pulsing to her touch. “You’ve managed to shatter my non-magical beliefs.”

  “You believed in it before I came into your life,” Sandro said, holding up a hand to halt her objection. “If you hadn’t, you would have never thought about kissing the stone before now, and you have thou
ght about it, haven’t you?”

  “No.” She barely heard her own reply. Was what he said the truth? Did some part of her believe in magic, despite her scientific background? She’d never given the thought any credence until Sandro had pointed out that she’d thought about it before. “Maybe I thought about it as an experiment, to see what would happen? To see whether it would end my ceaseless discourse of useless facts.”

  “I don’t find them useless at all,” Sandro said, taking her hand and leading her toward a portion of the stone that was unoccupied. “I think they’re charming.”

  “Charming? You think it’s charming I can name all the capitals of Europe without batting an eyelash?”

  “Yes, I do. It shows you pay attention and look at the world around you.”

  “It shows I’ve had one boyfriend in my life, and all my other spare time has been spent reading books.”

  “Now you have me to charm with everything you’ve learned in life, and I’ll do the same for you.” He turned so that her back was to the wall. “Are you ready?”

  Rhylie knew how this worked, and it made her a little nervous, to say the least. A person sat with their back to the stone, then bent over the small support wall, going back until their lips could touch the stone. There were poles to use for support, too, but no one could do it without a partner to hold their legs while they bent backwards.

  In this case, she had Sandro, who had straddled her thighs, holding them tight between his own. She knew people had fallen to their death here, and while she wasn’t exactly afraid of heights, she knew it was a long way down if she happened to lose her balance.

  “I’ve got you,” Sandro said, his hand snaking under her sweater to stroke her stomach. “Lean back and kiss the stone.”

  Rhylie let out a deep breath. She’d dreamed of doing this ever since she’d learned of the stone’s existence. What did her fascination with this object say about her, she wondered. Was she a closet magic fanatic? Did she have, buried deep down inside her, the natural wonder that came from seeing things that couldn’t be explained?

  As a scientist she would say that all things could be explained. But then she gazed around at the number of people here, waiting their turns to kiss a supposedly magical stone. If she were to ask them why they were here, she was sure they would say it was for the thrill of seeing something that was part of history, something that supposedly held magical properties.

  She gazed at Sandro, who winked at her and nodded. The poles were cool to the touch when she grabbed them, one with either hand. Then she leaned back, her hair falling into the crevice as her head bent toward the stone. Sandro’s thighs pressed against her own even as one hand held her hip, and the other caressed her stomach. His touch was warm and made her tingle.

  And her heart was in overdrive. Whether it was from his touch, or doing something she’d never thought to get the chance to do she wasn’t sure. Maybe it was both. Either way, she was sure her blood pressure was up more than a few points as the blood rushed to her head.

  The stone was cold under her lips, but doing this provided a thrill. She waited for a spark to fill her body, for something to show she’d just changed her life in some profound way. Nothing happened. Disappointment flared inside her as Sandro helped her back into a sitting position.

  “It didn’t work.”

  “Of course it did,” he said, propelling her from the spot so another tourist could take her place.

  “No, I don’t feel any different. I can spit out the seven metals of alchemy and the gods and planets that match each metal?”

  “I would hope so.” He pulled her away from the crowd, over to a small area that overlooked a green field. “I see those things as part of your charm. Each person has something unique about them that makes them distinctive, makes them who they are. Your intellect, and your ability to remember trivia is yours.”

  Rhylie tried not to snort. “Right. My ability to bore people to death makes me unique.”

  “Hum.” She glanced at him, narrowing her eyes.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” The denial left his mouth easily, but Rhylie could tell the wheels of his brain were moving at an extraordinary rate.

  “You’re up to something.”

  “As a matter of fact I am.” He took her hand and placed it on his cock, which strained against his jeans.

  “You’re insatiable,” she said with a laugh. “Is that part of being a djinni?”

  “In my case, yes.” She stiffened a bit at his words. How many other women had previously had the pleasure of thirty days with Sandro? Was he alone in this part of the world, or…

  “It’s the club,” she said softly. “That woman at the door. She knew my name without me saying it.”

  “Anya. Beautiful, isn’t she? She’s just back from giving birth to twins, one from each of her Djinn mates.”

  She backed away from him, her mind working just as hard as she’d known his was a few minutes earlier. “Why me?”

  “What do you mean?” The look he gave her made her think he really didn’t understand what she was saying. But she knew better. He could read her mind, after all. He knew exactly what she was thinking. She cocked her head, grateful when he smiled and gave her a sheepish look.

  “It’s not what you’re thinking,” he said. “Saturday night wasn’t an ambush, or a set up. I took it a little further than I should have, because I was so attracted to you. Because I wanted you.”

  “You mentioned earlier that you got in trouble for Saturday. What exactly did you get in trouble for?”

  He snaked his hands under her sweater, caressing her stomach. “Djinn have free will, and it is something we value very highly. Therefore, when a djinni wants to work his magic, so to speak, it is important that they not force themselves on someone.”

  She nodded. “Go on.”

  “Matuse, the owner of the Cave of Pleasure, was unhappy with me for not holding back, for letting my lust for you take over. I should not have pleasured you Saturday evening. I was only supposed to dance.”

  “And the lamp?”

  “Djinn give their lamps sparingly. Some djinn are assigned specific people that need their aid, yes, but if that person does not rub the lamp, then they are not bound. In your case, I knew you would rub my lamp, and wish for me.”

  “But how? I mean…” He put his finger on her mouth to silence her, then leaned over and replaced it with his lips.

  “Some things happen without a reason,” he said, nibbling on her lower lip. “Do you not believe in fate? In destiny? In love at first sight?”

  Rhylie felt as if he’d kicked her in the stomach. “Of course not. A person’s fate is not decided before they are born. Their life happens, and grows, around how they are raised and the events that take place because of where they are.”

  Sandro pressed his body against her, his heat enveloping her. “During my many years of life I knew there was one woman for me. And when I saw you, I knew you were that one woman. I felt it in my heart, in my mind, and in my soul.”

  “You didn’t even know me.” The bottom had dropped out from under her. The only thing keeping her standing right now was Sandro, who caressed her with a gentle intensity that made her nerve endings jump with remembrance of how he’d made her climax with his tongue, his fingers and that gloriously hard part of him that pressed against her right now.

  “My soul knew you, and deep down inside, yours knew me, too. You just have to learn to let go, and allow yourself to feel without there being an explanation. I love you, Rhylie. I loved the dream of you before I met you, and now I love the reality of you, and I always will.”

  Chapter Six

  It seemed so strange to watch Sandro stand in line for food, when he could just snap his finger and make food appear before them. Rhylie clutched the salt shaker at the small table where she sat, her eyes glued on the man who’d professed his undying love for her, despite the fact they’d only just met.

  Love at first sight wa
s a myth, just like… Just like what, Rhylie, like djinn? She glanced back at where he stood, talking to the waitress in the fish and chips shop. Since they were in the area, he’d decided a trip to London was in order, for her to visit the British Museum and see the Rosetta Stone, the busts of Roman art, and the Seal Burse of Elizabeth I, among other things.

  She’d listened with interest as he discussed the items in the Roman exhibits, talking about the busts, the coins, jewelry and cups and how they were used. She knew most of the things, but hearing him tell it, and knowing he’d been around to see the beginnings of many of the items, and had used some of them, made the trip that much more fascinating.

  At the Egyptian exhibits, she’d recited facts about the Rosetta Stone, telling him of its discovery by French troops in 1799, and how it had been used to decipher hieroglyphs. Then she’d laughed and leaned in to whisper. “You probably already know those things, don’t you? Since you were around, then.”

  “It’s better to hear you tell it,” he’d replied. “I never tire of the sound of your beautiful voice.”

  It was the words as much as the tone of his voice that produced a full body shiver then. He’d pulled her into his arms, kissing her with an intensity that had curled her toes. The people around them had chuckled, and she’d blushed profusely, her hands clutching his sweater, afraid to look into his eyes for fear she would tell him she never wanted to lose him.

  All things came to an end, even affairs with magical djinn who assumed they would be together for the rest of her life. Of course, the rest of her life would be much different from the rest of his, wouldn’t it? That thought had given her pause.

  Her body would give out in less than one hundred years, and she’d already lived thirty of them, hadn’t she? What would happen then? Would Sandro be thankful for the time they had together and move on to some other woman he felt destined to love? Or, worse yet, when she grew older, and he stayed the same, would his “undying love,” really die?

  “Never.” His voice sounded in her head, and she jerked her gaze toward where he stood at the counter, patiently waiting for their food. “You really must learn not to question things so much, la mia stella.”