At Your Command Read online

  Her feet and her ears lost their previously irresistible allure and her breasts gained his full attention. Bare beneath the thin yellow cotton, her nipples brushed his chest, drawing a groan from him. At any moment, he expected her to stop him. His thumb grazed the bare skin where her pants and blouse didn't quite meet.

  When he continued to hesitate, her hands told him what to do and his body seemed to develop a mind of its own. She stretched and purred as contentedly as her mother's cat, and guided his hand up her side beneath her shirt.

  He found himself suspended over her, his weight balanced on his knees and the arm he had tucked under her head. One hand remained free to follow her wishes and bare her breast to his gaze.

  His lips had already taken shape and his head had begun to dip to take her when she stopped him. "You don't have to do this."

  He groaned, his entire body throbbing disappointment. The sheet had slipped from his waist sometime after she joined him on the bed. His naked body pressed against her jeans.

  "I mean, not if you don't want to. I don't want you to think this is a command or an order or something." Her body stiffened in his arms as she prepared to withdraw from him.

  Gods, the woman was foolish. Did she think he had a choice? How could he respond in any other way when his sweet Maggie lay in his arms? He kissed her mouth again, hoping to silence her words and her doubts.

  She didn't relent. She turned aside her head. "This has to be consensual on both sides"

  Why was the woman so stubborn? How could he make her believe? With his hand under her chin, he turned her face. Lost, he'd become hopelessly lost in those blue eyes of hers. "Please, Maggie, don't make me stop."

  She melted in his arms again, evidently satisfied. Later he would consider and decide what it was he'd done right. Next time he didn't want to waste time convincing her of his sincerity. For now he was content to use the time they had. No longer master and slave, he had no need to protect himself from her and she had nothing to fear from him.

  In answer to his plea, she jerked her shirt over her head, pushing him away when he tried to take her breast in his mouth. He didn't have time to worry. A moment later, she was doing the same with her jeans, shimming back and forth to slide them down her hips.

  Flesh against flesh, how long, how many centuries since he'd experienced such delight, and never before born of his own desires. No orders or commands, no watching master. Just him and Maggie and their desire.

  With her hips thrust against his, she erased all doubt. Maggie wanted him and he would not disappoint. His mouth busy with her taut nipples, he slipped his hand between her thighs. After she shuddered to climax, she made him abandon her breasts and silently directed him to kneel above her.

  Her wandering hands and tongue explored his growing member, her examination forcing him to bite his lip to stay in control. Then, when he was certain he could no longer hold back, she took him, her hands guiding his hips. This time when she came, he joined her.

  The rest was a blur. He rested briefly with her beneath him, then rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She covered them both with the sheet and the blanket before she lay on top of him. The single bed left no room for any other position.

  Tom liked single beds, he decided. Maggie nestled against him, one arm flung over his chest and a knee against his thigh. She would be close by when he woke. He could tongue the nipple so close to his mouth and entice her into another round of making love. They could do this all day and all night, with short breaks to visit Lady Sarah and eat. No need for anything else, not even the larger bed in the other room.

  With Maggie's warm breath on his chest, Tom slipped away into darkness. Not to a lonely fire and a tightening collar this time, but a safe haven in Maggie's arms.

  TOM WOKE TO Maggie's hand rubbing his face. For the first time in memory, and Tom had a long one indeed, he did not flinch from his master's touch.

  She yawned and stretched against him, her body arousing nothing more than answering extensions in his limbs. His Maggie had awakened him throughout the morning. Additional lovemaking would have to wait until evening.

  Her voice was full of sleep and innocence. "I'm ready to make my second wish."

  Tom's heart constricted and his breath refused to leave his throat. Her second wish. How long before she lost interest in this new desire for his body and decided to make her third?

  "I want you to make my mother happy."

  Blood rushed to his face. He had thought her selfish. Then another, even more uncomfortable thought occurred. "Do you mean for me to make her happy the way I have made you--"

  Her finger on his lips stopped him. "I'd never ask you to do something like that. Never. Not with me and certainly not with someone else."

  He gathered her in his arms again, thankful the narrow bed kept her so close. Thankful that for this lifetime at least, no matter how short, he would not be forced to speak false words of love with his mouth and with his body.

  "Besides, I'm sure she doesn't want anything like that. Mom's a mature woman. She's had her love. That's something that only happens to a person once in a lifetime, don't you think?"

  "I have lived many lifetimes, my Maggie, and I believe that might be so." Had he ever experienced love? He had warm feelings, companionship with Maggie's great aunt. Love at some far distant time, just out of reach, when soft, gentle arms cradled him. Was love what he felt for Maggie?

  "I want you to talk to her and find out what's wrong. Then you can grant whatever wish is necessary to make her happy. Okay?"

  "Yes, my Maggie. I will learn what will bring your mother happiness and grant her wish. Whatever that might be."

  He pulled the covers over her bare shoulder, ignoring the hole in his stomach, the result of no breakfast or lunch, needs that awoke once he was free from the abyss.

  A second wish. If he granted this one, that would leave no more wishes for Maggie, not if he kept to his plan to avoid the third wish and stay by her side. He couldn't grant a third wish, not now, not when it would mean giving up all this.

  "Thank you, Tom," she whispered, falling asleep again, just as the sun began its final decent from the sky.

  "I am yours to command," he whispered, ruffling her hair.

  Chapter 6

  HE REALLY DID look terribly sweet while he was sleeping, but Maggie couldn't think of Tom as a little boy any more. She had passed that, days ago.

  Still, he had a lot of little boy in him. She knew when he woke and looked out the window, he would ask where all the snow had gone. She loved that about him. His ability to experience the small wonders in the world after thousands of years.

  Thousands of years! It hit her again with full force. Maybe because she had resisted the idea for so long, been willing to believe she was totally insane rather than dare believe with childlike wonder that magic could be real.

  Chet wouldn't believe, not even if he had seen and felt the evidence as she had. Whatever little boy remained in Chet was too deeply buried to work its way out. Maybe that's why she'd backed out of the wedding. She was still childish enough to want a relationship with magic.

  Tom moved under her. When he chose to sleep on his back, on top of him was the only place for her to lie. He didn't seem to mind. Despite her unease with how he could leave the room, not to mention this plane of existence, in a puff of smoke, she wasn't complaining either.

  If only he didn't lie so much. She always knew when he did, which was crazy since she believed him about this being cursed and granting wishes thing. It was something about that collar around his neck. Whenever he was nervous about something, he tugged at it, as if afraid that if he were caught in a lie it would tighten and choke him.

  She recognized other clues that told her Thomas had not lived in the lap of luxury before his transformation. Princes did not hide food and worry about having enough fuel to heat the house. Tom's actions indicated depravation as a child. A prince? No, Tom had never been a prince, he'd probably never even had lo
ving parents.

  He stretched his arms and legs, and then, with an arm around her waist, he pulled her close against his chest. His eyes fluttered against her cheek. Her clinical interest in him faded when he stroked her bare back with a lazy hand and ended by pinching her bottom.

  "Does my Maggie have any more commands for me this morning or will she grant her poor servant a few moments of rest?" His voice sounded groggy with sleep, but she felt him grow hard against her thigh. He wasn't all that sleepy.

  "I didn't mean to wear my genie out with so many duties."

  "I'm not a--"

  She put her hand over his mouth to stop him. "I know. You are a jinn, an evil spirit. What names did you give yourself that first day we met--slave, death, winds, spirit, man of sorrows, friend, husband?"

  He licked her palm, kissed it, and blew warm breath across it until she could no longer resist him. He rolled, carrying her with him, so she lay under him on the bed, safe in the space he created with his arms. "What would my Maggie have me be to her?"

  "Can you be anything other than someone who grants wishes?"

  He brushed away stray hairs that had fallen across her face. A shadow passed over his. "Isn't that enough?"

  Not enough for a normal life, not enough to start a family. Chet hadn't been enough for her and he'd been perfect, or damned near. So what was she doing in bed with a man who had nothing? Even the clothes he wore were borrowed. He didn't have a job or job skills that she could identify. No job experience, unless you counted conjuring glasses of wine out of the air. The bottom line was his existence on this plane was transitory.

  His groggy, sleepy smirk faded along with his hard member, which had stopped probing her thigh. He took the sheet with him when he headed toward the bathroom.

  "I can be nothing else." His pronouncement left no room for arguments.

  Maggie scrambled from the bed and into her clothes. She didn't want him to return to find her naked, not when she was remembering all the things that he was so very good at.

  APRIL VANISHED in dreamy nights spent with Tom in the narrow bed of her childhood. Mother was off at writing conventions and looking at condos. Maggie kept the house clean against the day the Realtor found someone interested enough in buying that they wanted a tour of the house.

  What Tom did during the day was a mystery to her. She caught only hints when she went into town. Everyone knew Tom. He brought Mrs. Hanson her dinners and stayed to listen to her play the piano.

  One day he entertained Shelley and Andy with stories about ancient Rome, and Shelley persuaded him to share what he knew with Andy's third grade class. He was the perfect teacher for children that age. They didn't think it odd when he talked as if he'd actually seen Cleopatra and spoken with Mark Anthony. Maggie didn't press him for details. She didn't want to know what part he'd played in that piece of history.

  As for the chores her mother had left for Tom, he'd finished those in one afternoon while Maggie was out. Magic the only explanation for how he'd accomplished so much painting and papering in such a short time.

  Maggie didn't have much to do with her days. Maybe that was why she spent so many of them talking with Shelley. Her baby was due in another two months, and Maggie enjoyed the anticipation. They both looked out the window at Andy playing in the backyard while they shared a pot of coffee.

  "So he is doing better at school?" Maggie asked, finally broaching the subject they always left for last.

  "Yes, not so many arguments and tempers. Although he has slammed the door to his classroom so many times, the wall will have to be repaired. Andrew won't be happy when he hears that."

  "What does Andrew say about Andy's problems?"

  "Oh, I always speak to his teacher at the beginning of the year. I don't want them bothering him with Andy's little problems. Being principal at the high school keeps him busy enough." Shelley's smile came too close to a cringe for Maggie's liking. Everybody was too concerned about not disturbing Mr. Andrew Summers when they should be helping his son adjust to school.

  "Andy's second grade teacher said we should consider sending him to private school, but Andrew said that won't look right, like public school wasn't good enough for his son."

  Although very bright, Andy didn't appear to need more freedom. More structure, perhaps. By the time he adjusted to a new teacher, it was time for him to move to the next grade. "We can help Andy do better in the school he's in. I plan to be here for the summer. You and I can work together on some strategies, and then meet with his third grade teacher before school starts. Get him started out on the right foot next year."

  The shoulders Shelly had held so tight while discussing her husband relaxed. "Thanks so much. I really do appreciate--oh, there's Tom."

  Tom waved at them through the window. He joined Andy in the backyard and they kicked the soccer ball back and forth. Andy tried to sneak it past Tom and into the bushes, but he made the boy try several times before he sidestepped the ball and let it pass.

  The sight of Tom in his blue jeans and tee shirt could make her heart race even in the middle of the day. He looked and acted totally at home in the town where she'd grown up. Much more at home than she would ever feel. She expected people to be standoffish because of his shoulder length hair, dark skin and soft accent. Obviously, she was wrong. Either her small town wasn't as prejudiced as she'd thought or Tom's magic could bridge the differences. Maybe she'd been the one who had kept these people at a distance all these years and not the other way round.

  Tom could make a good life for himself here and he had a lot to contribute. She couldn't imagine him in the bustle of a large town. He needed someplace where the pace was slow and people had time to take him in. She realized with a start she was actually daydreaming about living in Rawley with Tom. The two of them like high school lovers, coming back to raise family.

  Shelley touched her hand. "When are you two getting married?"

  Maggie heard herself gasp at the question, but wasn't certain why. Maybe because she'd been considering it herself. Since Tom returned, they'd been living almost like husband and wife.

  With a maternal cluck, Shelley patted her arm. "I'm sorry. It's too soon after Chet, I suppose. I think Tom will wait. He's devoted to you and anyone can see what a great father he'll make."

  Maggie didn't even know if genies, or jinn, could have children. That first time they'd made love, he'd said she needn't worry, and she hadn't probed. She'd been too preoccupied with the immediate effects of their love making to consider the future. Did jinn practice some magical birth control they could turn off and on, or was mating naturally sterile, like trying to cross a bird with a fish?

  She and Shelley returned their attention to Andy and Tom, who now sat on the grass, heads inches apart.

  Sure, Tom would make a great father, except Tom couldn't stay. He had hinted the other day that he would grant her second wish soon. When he granted her third, he would have to leave.

  It would be easier for everyone if they didn't count on Tom. "We don't have any plans. Not together anyway. I'm waiting to hear about some job offers for this fall. I don't know where I'll end up." Or where Tom would be. She didn't have to make that third wish, did she? Or would Tom insist, grant some wish when her guard was down to fulfill his obligation?

  To the outside world, Tom might appear to be a devoted lover content with small-town life, but she knew him to be something quite different. When he granted her three wishes, he would wake in another fifty years to a wonderful and exciting new world. If he left tomorrow, she would be eighty years old when he emerged from his box to serve his next master. She wouldn't be alive for the one after that.

  "Tom will follow you wherever you go." Shelley smiled with confidence that seemed to vanish when she spoke of her own problems. "He did come after you from California, didn't he? Oh, shoot, look at the time. I'd better get Andy moving along."

  When they reached the backyard, Tom and Andy were locked in conversation. Shelley was opening her mouth wh
en Tom startled them with the words he spoke to her son.

  "If someone yelled at me that way, I'd get angry, too."

  If Andy noticed his mother, he decided to ignore her. "Did you ever have a father?"

  "No, but there was someone who told me what to do. When he yelled at me, I didn't get angry. I got scared. Sometimes I ran away. I think you are very brave to stay and be angry."

  "I go to my mom when I'm scared."

  "You are very lucky to have such a mother."

  Suddenly, the two looked up. Shelley's face had flushed red and she grabbed Andy's arm. "We've got to get going now. You need to work on your spelling homework and I have to get supper made."

  Andy went willingly, missing his mother's embarrassment. Tom looked confused but didn't say anything. Maggie wanted a few minutes alone with Shelley. "We can talk about this later. Okay?"

  Shelley's face distorted into a semblance of a smile. "Sure we'll get together next week sometime." She dragged Andy with her toward the front of the house.

  "How about tomorrow? I'm free tomorrow," Maggie called after her. Shelley disappeared around the corner with a hasty wave.

  "You are not free tomorrow." Tom stood slowly, brushing the grass off his jeans. With his hands on her shoulders, he pulled her into his arms. He kissed her mouth first, then her neck, his hands remaining on her shoulders and not straying to her breasts. That wasn't allowed outside of the house, and Tom was very good at following her commands. His kisses were eager and when he pressed against her, she could tell he wanted her. But she liked order in her days. Work, then supper, then bed. He would wait.

  "What am I going to be so busy with tomorrow? Or is it a surprise?"

  "It's your mother's surprise. I've granted your wish. Your mother will be happy tomorrow."

  Brief panic ensued before she rushed to reassure herself. Maggie could put up with whatever would make her mother happy. Sarah Yates was over fifty. How dangerous could her wish be? "What have you been doing, Tom? Mother is in Myrtle Beach. How can you make her happy from that many miles away?"