so don’t take offence.” He laughed uncertainly. “Right, this is me, going back to bed.”
He turned away from the apparition and strode back to his bedroom. Once he got there, he climbed into bed, muttered at Tess for not doing her bodyguard duty, pulled the covers up to his chin, and closed his eyes.
The image of the dream man remained etched on his retinas, and Ben’s hard-on showed no signs of diminishing. Perhaps it was time to take himself in hand and rub one out. It would help him get back to sleep.
He reached down to caress his aching dick and groaned softly as his strokes grew firmer. Now, this was more like it.
“Need a hand with that?”
Ben yelled and sat bolt upright in bed, holding the duvet in front of him like a shield. He reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. “What the fuck?” he asked for the second time that night.
Seated in the corner of the room was the being from Ben’s dream. His legs were draped over the arm of the chair, and he looked thoroughly at ease. He waved an elegant hand at Ben.
“Hi-i,” he drawled sexily. “Would you like me to join you and take care of your problem? I figured you enjoy men’s company seeing as how you said you dream about them.” He winked.
“How?” Ben asked dazedly. “You aren’t really here.”
By now, Tess had wakened sleepily and was eyeing the apparition with interest. She didn’t seem bothered to see an uninvited, half-naked man in Ben’s home. Granted, he admitted to himself, she’d seen a few of them from time to time when he’d had a hook-up.
The man stood up, the scent of something soft and spicy wafting from him, tantalising Ben’s nostrils. “I beg to disagree. I am certainly here because you called me.” He sat down next to Ben on the bed. “Let me elucidate. The lamp chose you. You rubbed the lamp. I am the Djinn of the lamp. Ergo, I come when you call.” He smirked. “At other times, it truly depends on how good you are with that thing.” He glanced appreciatively at Ben’s groin.
Ben shook his head. “I have a genie in my bedroom? The sort that grants wishes and shit?” He preferred the modern version of the word because the other one sounded like the popular alcoholic spirit.
The sexy intruder nodded his head. “Give the man a slice of mango. He gets it. My name is Daeliel Jadu Alario, son of Medeaus and Sameria of Quimaria, and I am currently the Keeper Of Cal’dor. Until I can find some way to get out of it permanently, that is.” His face darkened with his last words and his lips twisted into a sneer. “I am honour-bound under the Rules of the Accord to be your guide into the world of wishes.” He grinned wolfishly. “Be careful how you ask for them. I’ve had people beg me to take their wish back, but alas, once it’s granted, there is no return.” The genie bowed. “To whom might I have the pleasure of addressing?”
“My name’s Ben. Ben Sinclair.”
“Nice to meet you, Ben.”
Ben closed his eyes, and when he opened them, the apparition was still there. He decided to humour the man. “So…these wishes. Can I ask for anything? And why did you say the lamp chose me?”
Daeliel cocked his head. “Let me give you the sales spiel, then that’ll be out of the way.” He began ticking things off on his long, lean fingers, and Ben only then noticed his nails were painted a shimmery black. “A Djinn cannot grant eternal life. We cannot heal anyone or anything from sickness or accident. I cannot bring back the dead. We can’t make someone love someone else. We cannot change body parts—I’ve been asked soooo many times to make dicks and boobs bigger, and vaginas tighter, but alas,” he shrugged, “I don’t do that.” His eyes lasciviously slid down Ben’s body. “Not that I think you have any problems in that area.”
Ben preened a little. It was his dream—he was sticking to that concept because, damn it, the alternative was insane—and he could take the accolades if he wanted to.
The genie continued. “I can’t fix anything emotional, that’s up to the human. We don’t meddle in what goes on in your brains because,” he grimaced, “who’d want to be in the mire of what you people call your psyche? It’s simply far too messy.” He stopped. His forehead scrunched. “I