The Djinn's Dilemma Read Online Free

crying.
    Fear-bright green eyes stared at him instead.
    Given he was an assassin, sent to kill her, her response was natural, even intelligent. Yet, bitterness churned in his gut at the thought of her fearing him.
    “It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re safe.”
    “Am I hallucinating?” Her question came out as a croak.
    “Yes, yes you are.” That seemed a much better answer than the truth.
    She pinned him with her dark, direct gaze. “You’re just a figment of my imagination. A fantasy?”
    “Yes.” He didn’t dare move.
    “Then why are you still wearing clothes?”
    He made the clothes disappear and stood there as naked as her. Skin against skin, the heat from her body melted into his. Warm water washed over them like rain.
    “Much better.” A smile twitched her lips. “I’ll take hot fantasy over crappy reality any day.”
    Rukh’s pulse skipped a beat, then broke into a run. Naked and wet she pushed him to the very edge of his control. He winced as his manhood throbbed and hardened, stretched to readiness against her. He wanted to shove her up against the cool tile wall, grasp those luscious hips and take her hard. No hesitation, no consideration. His desperate need shook him to the core, and Rukh was afraid. Afraid that once again his body would betray him. He dropped his arms from her, stepped back. She needed comfort, not mauling.
    “We need soap.”
    Her voice stopped him from moving further away, made him look at her again. Big mistake. His gaze followed a rivulet of water down the side of her face, along her graceful neck, to her full caramel breasts capped with whorls of sateen mahogany. The woman, all warm amber and lush curves, left his mouth dry. His gaze swept over her shapely legs and returned to the tight bud of her left breast. She took a step forward, out from under the showerhead, and a bead of water dangled like a jewel. He trembled to touch it.
    “So, how does this fantasy thing work?”
    Hell if he knew. “Any which way you want it.”
    She grabbed a washcloth and pumped some soap onto it. Within moments she’d got it covered in lather. The sweet smell of cinnamon and vanilla soaked into the warm air. “It’ll be easier if I close my eyes.” The tremor in her voice made something inside of him clench. “I guess I’ll start soaping myself and imagine it’s you.”
    Sarah soaped her body, starting with her neck and working her way down. The water beat a rhythmic tattoo on her back. She felt languorous.
    She could feel his large hand over hers, guiding her. “Rukh,” she whispered. Obviously her subconscious had labeled him her hero. Well, he definitely made for a pleasant fantasy. Nervous breakdowns were way underrated. She moved the soapy washcloth in slow circles down her exposed throat and between her breasts. Its roughness on her areolas shot flashes of desire to her melting core.
    Sarah recalled him standing in the billowing steam, naked and wet. Drops of water caught in the swirls of his chest hair and glistened like diamonds. His gaze, dark and stormy, raked over her. She’d had to close her eyes to hide from his intensity.
    Now she wallowed in his warmth cocooning her back, shivered as his large, calloused hands ran all over her body, taking liberties wherever they pleased. Caressing, teasing, squeezing. She imagined kisses on her neck and shoulder. Soft, light kisses; sharp, playful nips. Damn. Her imagination came in high-definition.
    He nuzzled her in the soft bend between her neck and shoulder. “Oh God, I’ve wanted to taste you ever since I laid eyes on you,” he whispered against her skin. Her heartbeat did a drunken dance. His mouth locked onto her skin, and sucked in sharp and hard. She gasped, giving herself over to the twin assault of teeth and breath.
    Rukh gentled into a kiss. His tongue swirled over the spot, soothing and stroking. A low moan of pleasure rumbled through her. Oh, that felt so good.
    She squeezed the washcloth until soapy rivulets