Jemimah's Genie Page 3

  Jemi frowned. “That sounds awful.”

  He lowered his eyes and continued to rub her hand gently. “Yes, it is.”

  They sat silently for a moment while Jemi tried to make sense of it. “So, is this like in the books? Am I supposed to have three wishes?”

  Brian looked up and she was ridiculously glad to see his face had cleared and he was smiling again. “Yes, I believe that’s how it works.”

  Jemi smiled back. “Okay, so how many wishes do I have left?”

  “Three,” he said.

  “But you’ve already… I mean, didn’t you say you know what I want? Doesn’t what you’ve—we’ve—done count as a couple of wishes?”

  “No.” He got up and came around the table, standing behind her and laying his hands on her shoulders, then gently kneading so she closed her eyes and let the worries of the past weeks melt under his ministrations. “You see, you have to actually say the words,” he said. “You have to say ‘I wish’ or it’s not official.”

  “Hmm.” Jemi thought about this, as he continued to massage away tension. What could she wish for? Should she wish Granny Lou…

  “Sorry,” he said. “There are certain limits. I can’t bring back the dead. And I can’t grant you wishes that wouldn’t be good for you.”

  “Well, who’s to decide what’s good for me?”

  He shrugged. “It’s just the way it is.” He bent and kissed the back of her neck. “You smell so good,” he said.

  “Do I?”

  He knelt down next to her chair and took her hands in his. “You have no idea how magnificent you are, do you?”

  “No,” she said, blushing again at the intensity in his blue eyes. “And you’re just saying that. I’m sure it’s part of your job.”

  He shook his head. “No, it’s not a job. I don’t know what it is but it’s not that. When I’m with you,” he said, “I feel…I don’t know, I feel like I’ve come alive.”

  Jemi smiled and lifted a hand to push the hair back from his face, letting her fingers linger. “Are you telling me you have real feelings for me?”

  He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “I think, somehow, we’re meant to be together.”

  A thrill shot through Jemi at his words, then she remembered. “You can read my thoughts. You know it’s what I want to hear.”

  He stood up and began to pace. “No…no, that isn’t it. It’s true. It’s how I feel.” He stood at the kitchen window looking out into the night at the elderberry bushes bathed in moonlight and rubbed the back of his neck distractedly. “I can’t lie even if I wanted to. I think it’s one of the limitations. I mean what I say.”

  Jemi got up and came up behind him, putting her arms around his waist and laying her cheek against his back. “I don’t understand what’s happening, Brian but I feel the same way. I feel… I feel as if I’ve known you all my life. Like we’re meant. Is that just the wine, or the effects of the trance?”

  He turned and put his arms around her, pulling her close and resting his cheek against hers. “I don’t think so. I sure hope not.”

  “Okay,” she said, her lips tasting his neck as she spoke, “tell me what I can wish for.”

  “You can wish for anything. But like I said, it has to be something that won’t affect you in an adverse way. Having your grandmother back would put you right back where you were before—working too hard and having no life of your own. You need to let her go. She’s in a wonderful place and you know she wants you to be happy.”

  Jemi nodded. He was right. She pulled away from him reluctantly. “Well, three wishes is a pretty tall order.” She sat down again and cupped her chin in her hands, considering. “There is one thing,” she said finally.

  Brian sat down too and nodded. “Yes, I think that’s a good idea.”

  Jemi laughed. “God, it spooks me when you do that. Okay, so I have to say the words?”

  Brian nodded.

  Jemi looked at him and smiled. “I wish Amelia Preston was completely healthy and well.”

  As soon as the words left her mouth, Brian snapped his fingers and a popping sound reverberated throughout the house. He smiled at her. “Your first wish, Jemimah Murphy, has been granted.” He glanced at the window where the sky was beginning to turn from black of night to gray dawn. “And now I have to go.” He got up and came to her, pulled her to her feet and into his arms, kissing her deeply.

  But before she had a chance to put her arms around him and reciprocate, he’d disappeared.

  * * * * *

  “I just can’t believe it,” Ruth was saying on the phone. Jemi could hear the pure joy in her voice. “Amelia just got up this morning, came to the kitchen and said, ‘Mommy, I’m hungry.’ Well, she’s been too weak to even get out of bed, let alone eat. I took her in right away for testing and the initial signs say she’s completely clear of the leukemia. Jemi, it’s just a miracle!” The last word caught on a sob.

  Jemimah gripped the phone tightly, her heart pounding. “Ruthy, I’m so happy for you,” she said. Thank you, Brian, she thought fervently.

  “Of course, they still want to do more tests,” Ruth said, then laughed, “I think Dr. Runyan is in shock. Hold on…”

  Jemi heard her put the phone down and blow her nose, then she was back.

  “Anyway,” Ruth said, “I just had to call to let you know. Rick and I are both taking some time off. What about you?”

  “Well,” Jemi said, “I’ve decided to listen to everyone’s advice and take a holiday.”

  Jemi heard Ruth’s quick intake of breath. “Truth? That’s fantastic. Where? When?”

  “I’m not sure where…definitely someplace warm. As to when, starting today. I’m only going for a week.”

  “I’m so glad, Jem. You deserve some time for yourself. Grab a bottle or two of that elderberry wine, find a warm beach and some hunky guy and really live it up.”

  Jemimah smiled. If only she knew! “Yes, that sounds like a plan,” she said. “I’ll call you when I get back. Ruth, I’m so happy for you and Rick…and especially for Amelia. It just goes to show miracles can come true.”

  “Yeah, you said it, kiddo. Call me as soon as you get back. Have a wonderful time.”

  After Jemi hung up, she stood momentarily staring out the window at the now leafless elderberry patch. How could this be happening? She knew in her heart this was no dream. But none of it made any sense.

  She sighed. If she let herself worry, she’d wind up in a mental hospital. The best thing to do, she said to herself, is to accept what’s happening and enjoy it while it lasts.

  * * * * *

  It was a Thursday. She spent most of the day shopping for her trip. She went to the mall to buy some much needed lingerie, sleepwear and a new, tiny aqua bikini. She treated herself to a haircut, style and manicure.

  She delivered a reluctant Sibyl to the kindly next-door neighbor, along with a week’s worth of gourmet cat food and plenty of litter.

  By the time she was ready to leave, it was past four p.m.

  She picked up the precious bottle of elderberry wine and smiled to herself. There was no point spending money on airfare and accommodation when she had Brian.

  She poured and drank. Nothing happened. She frowned and took another, larger swig. Still nothing.

  A wave of fear ran up her spine and she stared at the glass. She swirled the purple-red liquid and drank more. There was no pop, no sound of rushing air. There was no sound at all except the steady tick of the clock on the wall.

  So, that was it? All over? The fantasy was finished?

  Carefully she put the glass down and as if sleepwalking, she trudged up the stairs and into her room, falling onto the bed and turning her face into the pillow. The tears came, slowly at first, then in an unstoppable torrent. All the pain of Granny Lou’s death, her empty life and now the loss of her greatest experience poured out of her in a flood of despair.

  Finally, exhausted, she slept. When she woke, the room was dark and the
house was cold and empty.

  Making her way downstairs, she turned on the lights, lit the fire in the fireplace and rummaged in the cupboards for something to eat. She’d already disposed of any perishables but found a box of crackers and some peanut butter. She’d sit in the living room and watch old movies.

  The thought of being comfortably decadent lifted her mood slightly, so she grabbed a glass and the half empty bottle of elderberry wine and brought it with her.

  She took the first swig just as Cary Grant was lowering his lips to Audrey Hepburn’s.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  Jemimah would have leapt up, startled, if not for the strange euphoria that overcame her whenever the wine worked its magic. Instead she turned her head, looked at Brian and said, “Where were you?”

  He moved around the sofa and sat down next to her, his arm going automatically around her, his lips touching her ear. “You’ve had your hair done. You look wonderful.”

  Jemi controlled her rising need to surrender and pulled away, determinedly fighting the dreamlike sensation from the wine. “Where were you this afternoon?”

  “Hmm?” His hand was finding its way into the opening of her bathrobe and down the front of her panties. “I don’t know.”

  Jemi forced herself to stand up, knowing she wouldn’t be able to resist if he kept on. “I summoned you. I drank the wine. You didn’t come.”

  Brian looked up at her, his eyes dark with longing. Then surprise registered. “You drank the wine?”

  “I drank the wine.”

  He looked at her more closely. “You’ve been crying.”

  Jemi put a hand to her face, embarrassed. “Where were you?” she said again, her voice catching.

  He stood up and wrapped her in his arms. “I don’t know,” he said. “I told you, when I’m not with you, I’m in this dark place. I’d know if you summoned me.” Then he paused and realization hit. “What time was it?”

  Jemi thought. “Around four in the afternoon.” She felt him relax.

  “That’s why,” he said. “I can only be summoned after dark. Didn’t your grandmother tell you?”

  Jemi’s mind began to work. Yes, of course. Gran had told her it had to be night. Relief flooded her and she felt her knees go weak.

  “Oh, Brian, I thought you’d gone forever.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him unashamedly. His arms went around her and he kissed her back, sensuous, lingering.

  Eventually he pulled back to look at her, running a finger over her lips. “I’m here now,” he said. “I forgot to tell you about the time. That’s why I’ve always left before the sun came up. I thought you knew. I’m so sorry.”

  Jemi smiled at him. “It’s okay. I’m just so glad you’re here.” She pulled away from him and clicked off the television, then turned back and smiled seductively. “What do you say to a little vacation?”

  Chapter Three

  Jemi gazed around her, dazzled. The room was beautiful with thick white carpet, a huge bed with white draperies and black satin bedspread. There were gold framed mirrors on the ceiling and across one wall, while half the room was floor-to-ceiling windows. The door to a very large bathroom stood open. The fixtures were rich gold, the basin white and black marble, the tiles glossy black. A huge spa took pride of place in the center.

  It’d been a strange experience when Brian snapped his fingers. One second Jemi was standing in her living room, clutching her suitcase and the bottle of elderberry wine, the next she felt a hot rush of air and she was here.

  “Where are we?” she asked, completely awed and just a little dizzy. She let go of her case and placed the wine carefully on a nearby glass and gold coffee table. She could see the moonlight dancing on the ocean beyond the windows, stars sparkling in a clear inky sky. The rhythmic, calming rush and roar of surf filled her ears.

  “Our own special island,” Brian said. He snapped his fingers and a fire came to life in a gold and black marble fireplace. Lights dimmed and the most intoxicating aroma filled the room—a sweet yet musky scent. Jemi breathed deeply, closing her eyes.

  “You like?” Brian stood behind her, his arms came around her waist, his fingers gently untied the belt of her fleecy bathrobe.

  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “I like,” she said. She felt wonderful. She let her mind wander as her robe disappeared leaving her naked and Brian’s mouth and hands began to stir her smoldering inner fire.

  Then she heard him snap his fingers again and she opened her eyes. With an intake of breath, she saw another man, dark-haired, dark-skinned, sultry, muscled—and completely naked. His ample appendage was obviously ready for action. She looked at Brian and he smiled. “Your wish, Jemi, my sweet, is my command,” he murmured.

  She puzzled for a moment, then realized she’d been fantasizing in her head. Was this what her imagination conjured? “Who is he?” she asked, feeling suddenly hot and cold all at once, her skin tingling. “And why is he here?”

  The man spoke for himself. “I’m Rowan,” he said, in a deep soothing voice, “and I’m here to pleasure you.”

  Jemi’s fingers clasped Brian’s arms where they circled her waist. “Is he real?” she whispered.

  “He’s as real as I am when I’m with you,” he replied, kissing the tip of her ear, then pulling her hair to one side so he could kiss the nape of her neck.

  “But…you’re not real,” she said.

  “Is this real?” He pulled her back against him tightly.

  Jemi couldn’t answer. She felt his hard cock pressed against her back, while his fingers drifted down to that spot between her legs. He inserted a finger deep into her vagina and her knees turned instantly to jelly.

  Rowan came closer. She was helpless under Brian’s ministrations, his finger moving in and out of her opening, his arms holding her or she would’ve fallen. She gazed into Rowan’s face and his dark eyes seemed to draw her into their depths. He reached out a hand and stroked her cheek, trailing his fingers down her throat to her chest. With both hands, he cupped her breasts then lowered his head. She closed her eyes in delight as the wet warmth of his mouth engulfed first one nipple, then the other, his hands gently kneading her flesh.

  He moved even closer and she was sandwiched between the two men, their bodies hot, muscled, hard, their cocks pressing like molten steel against her, front and back. She was unable to speak or think.

  Brian removed his finger and turned her gently to face him. He cupped her face with his hands and kissed her mouth, teasing her lips with his tongue. He lifted her, still covering her mouth with his and laid her on the soft bed, the satin bedspread slick and cool against her flushed skin.

  Brian lay next to her and pulled her over on top of him, his mouth hard and demanding on hers. Rowan knelt on the bed close behind her and gently lifted her hips. She felt his lips and tongue kissing, flicking, over her lower back and buttocks.

  Brian’s cock was between her legs. She spread them, wanting his cock inside her. But Rowan held her hips up so only the very end of Brian’s penis touched her aching opening, making her squirm with unbridled desire.

  Then she felt Rowan’s hands from behind. He was using a fragrant lubricating oil to gently massage her buttocks. He moved one hand into her crack, circled her anus, then gently inserted a well-oiled finger. Jemi gasped and thrust her butt back, wanting more. Rowan’s hands slid between her legs to gather the viscous wetness there, then back to her anus, inserting a greased finger even further. She moaned. Every orifice of her body ached for penetration.

  Brian slid down her body, his mouth trailing a warm, wet kiss down her chest to her belly. He pulled her legs further apart and she felt the stubble from his cheeks pressed against her inner thighs. His lips found her clit, sucking gently and she cried out with joy.

  The men held her or she most certainly would’ve collapsed. Her muscles were completely useless. Her entire focus was on riveted to their actions—Brian’s tongue, flicked her clit, slowly circled, the
n repeated the process, while Rowan’s fingers slipped into her vagina then out and up, gently prodding her anus, circling it and repeating.

  They continued this way, driving Jemi to distraction. Finally, she couldn’t take the anticipation any longer. “Fuck me!” she cried out, her voice catching, “fuck me hard!”

  “You want us to fuck you?” Brian’s words were breathed against her throbbing clitoris. “You want us both?”

  “Yes, yes. Please. I want you in me—both of you.” She was nearly sobbing from the exquisite pain of anticipation.

  Brian moved back up and his mouth found hers. She could taste her own musky juices on his lips. She felt his penis touch her opening. At the same time, Rowan’s hands raised her hips again and she felt his shaft push gently between her butt cheeks.

  She held her breath. Gently, so very gently, Rowan’s well lubricated cock began to slip into her anus. There were no thoughts as it penetrated deeper and deeper. When he’d inserted it to the hilt, she was completely lost to the sensation of her rectum, completely filled with his cock.

  Barely able to register the bliss of this feeling, her focus shifted as she felt Brian’s shaft prodding for entry. She felt him push past her labia and slip easily into the burning heart of her swollen, wet pussy.

  “Fuck!” she cried out. Every fiber of her body was screaming with need. She was completely impaled. Her body was no longer her own. She was jelly, held together by the hard, relentless cocks inside her. She couldn’t move, though she wanted to—wanted to thrust her buttocks back hard, or push her pussy down over Brian’s shaft even further.

  And with that thought, both men began to pull slowly out, out. Jemi held her breath. They stopped and slid back into their respective openings, seeming to go even deeper. She sobbed with rampant emotion.

  They continued gently, making sure Jemi was completely wet at both ends. She felt her juices dripping. Rowan’s finger circled his cock, adding oil to her entry so it slipped easily in and out. Bent over her back, his free hand kneaded her breasts, one after the other, so her nipples stood up. His fingers teased them, sending tiny electric shocks directly to her clit.