Angels & Genies

Angeline fell back against Match, her foot slipping outward on the wet floor. Clamoring thunder muffled her gasp. Her momentum shoved Match into a counter behind him, tumbling a coffee press, murky with the dregs of coffee. He whipped out a hand and caught the press at the same time that he wrapped an arm around Angeline’s waist to steady her.

Twisting in Match’s grip, she suddenly gained a foothold on the floor so that she faced him. Her breasts pressed into Match’s naked chest, sizzling electricity through him. He flipped the press into the sink and moved his hand instinctively to the small of her back.
Angeline gazed up into his face. Long, black lashes partially obscured her large, brown eyes. Her hands clutched his elbows. The cottony waft of her breath tingled across Match’s collarbone. He responded without premeditation or hesitation, bending his head to kiss her. Her mouth was warm and pillowy, alternately yielding and pressing in response.

He hadn’t expected her submission and it inflamed him. His groin pulsed. He found that most humans maintained such a barrier to their natural responses that they behaved according to the dictates of their intellect and not their hearts. He had imagined that

Angeline was the same. But she seemed engulfed now in the sudden thrall between them. She snaked an arm up to tangle her fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck.

Match pressed Angeline against him, his hand slipping over the gentle rise of her behind, which tightened when he massaged her. She groaned. The woman who previously had addressed Match in a clipped, businesslike tone now writhed languidly against him like a familiar lover. Her behavior sent a tremor of caution through him that competed with the rising urgency of his attraction to her.

Match arched into Angeline’s belly so she could feel his arousal. It was a test. She slinked a hand down below his belt and rubbed the long length of him.

With a grunt of frustration and necessary restraint, Match twisted his fingers in Angeline’s hair at the back of her head and yanked her face away from his. He stared into her eyes, which were glazed with desire. A trickle of crimson wriggled across her irises, as though a capillary burst and absorbed abruptly. Iblis. The master jinni had infiltrated Angeline’s desires to get to Match. Why? He released her and stepped back.

She tottered in place and squeezed her eyes shut, bringing her hand to one cheek. When she opened her eyes, confusion and suspicion hovered there. Her lips were glazed ruby from their kisses. The impulse to sweep her into his arms nearly overwhelmed Match. He took another step back.

Desire crackled in the air between them. Match couldn’t trust that it was a natural attraction between them and not the work of Iblis’ machinations to gain a foothold in the portal that lay beneath Match’s property. Match had come this far to prevent the entrance of Iblis to the earthly realm. He would have to stay focused to seal the demon jinni in his depraved halls of Jinnistan. Just one more day.

Angeline dropped her hands to her sides and straightened. Her voice was articulate, though subdued. “I don’t know what came over me.” She pointed her index finger at Match. “You kissed me.”

“Why did you come here, Ms. Delaire?”

“Angeline. Please.” She smiled, but it was tight and tremulous, as though she navigated uncertain social waters. “I’m here on behalf of my client.”

“Of course.” Match folded his arms across his chest.

Angeline lifted her hand in an appeasing gesture. “Hear me out, Mr. Ramsey.”

“Match. Please.”

“Okay, Match.” Angeline folded her arms in imitation of Match’s stance.

Match’s eyes dropped to the sudden sight of her cleavage heaving upward beyond the confines of the open blouse.

Angeline followed Match’s stare and quickly refolded her arms so that she gripped her shoulders and covered her breasts. “Look, this is awkward. I’m not trying to hoodwink you or…seduce you, Match. This location is highly desirable. Simple as that. There are those who thought it could never be built on, situated as it is so close to the cliff face. But your design seems to have solved the foundation and structural issues. Frankly, my client thinks that your architecture is brilliant.”

“Who is your client, Angeline?”

Angeline met Match’s gaze and their eyes held. “His name is Mateus Ring.”

A spear of inevitability shot through Match. Mateus Ring. M. R. The same initials as his own. A particular calling card of Iblis was to recruit minions with the same name symbols as his adversaries. It was an ancient jinni custom. If the demon was successful in overcoming his prey, the minion could easily destroy or replace the prey—whether human or jinni—without upending the word of prophecy.

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