The Savage and the Genie Page 2

  From caramel skin tones like her own, to whiter tones like her best friend’s, to darker tones like her mother, to bluish tones like her father. Her people were as unique as nature itself. Yet, they were the same.

  They held the same values and beliefs. They’d been one nation, of one mind, of one spirit. And that was why they’d lived in peace for centuries. They were civilized and they were cultured.

  These savages were not. They were spiteful, vicious, and she hated it there. All they did was fight and fuck. Sometimes in that order, sometimes in reverse. Still, that was all they did. Oh, and they sang songs too when they got drunk.

  But those songs were always about fighting and fucking. It was like that was all they knew. There was nothing refined about them. She could only think of one word to describe them. Savages.

  “Are you just going to stand there, staring out into space?”

  Oh, right! She’d done it again, taken a trip into her own little world.

  Caly fake-smiled at Saxon, the leader of the savages. “Sorry, my Lord. I was simply wondering what it was you called me from my lamp to do for you?” She lied.

  His grunt signaled he didn’t believe her. “I would like for you to dry me off.” He rose from the tub, revealing every huge inch of himself to her gaze.

  Why did he have to be so big?

  Chapter Two

  He was huge. Everywhere!

  Caly swallowed as she watched the water drip down his naked body. Unable to help herself, her eyes roamed over his flesh. The males here may be savages, but they were a sexy bunch.

  She took her time, taking in every huge inch of him. Since he wasn’t embarrassed to be naked in front of her, she wasn’t ashamed to stare. Her gaze drifted back up to his cock. As if on cue, her mouth watered.

  They didn’t make men like him where she was from. She was pretty sure there was no other man like him alive. He was much taller than her, with broad shoulders she’d love to throw her legs over.

  And his abs looked like they’d been carved from the mountains that surrounded her village back in Adalon. Needless to say, he was the most mesmerizing creature she’d ever seen. Too bad he was a wolf shifter.

  And too bad he was currently the Keeper of her Lamp. Bastard. Reminding herself of who and what he was, was how she cooled the flames of desire he aroused in her. Fake smiling, she turned away from him.

  Caly strode to the other side of the room and grabbed a cloth from the wooden table. It took two large wool cloths to get his body completely dry. She kept her mind on the past as she did the task.

  If she didn’t, she’d dwell on what she was doing, and that would only make her feel needy again. This need for sex was a new thing for her. The first half of her life in the lamp, she’d been able to ignore the sexual side of herself completely.

  Back then, she’d been consumed with other emotions. Rage, hatred, revenge, and a need to be free was all she could think about in the beginning. She’d wanted to kill any and everything.

  The next years were filled with frustration, sadness, and despair as reality finally set in, and she realized she’d never be free of her lamp. Now that she’d come to terms with her situation, she was trying to make the best of her predicament.

  She still hoped to find a way out of her lamp. She would never lose hope. But she was no longer wallowing in despair. She was allowing herself to appreciate the things that were worth appreciating.

  Her rage had gotten her nowhere. It had only brought her pain. Especially when she got so angry that she tried to kill a few of her previous Keepers. Because of the curse, she hadn’t been able to harm them.

  In trying to hard them, she’d only harmed herself. And that had led to more rage, which led to headaches and depression. Stupid curse! No more. If she wanted to break free of her lamp, she needed a clear head and a better strategy.

  That was why she was searching for happiness in the darkness. Caly was now holding on to any glimmer of happiness she could find. And in doing so, she was feeling more energetic.

  More alive and ready to continue striving to figure out a way to end the curse. Maybe this new path would lead her to the answers she needed to break the curse. There was one thing this new path was definitely doing.

  It was increasing her need for things she used to enjoy before she was cursed into the lamp. Eating was one of those needs. Lately, every time she was out of her lamp, she made sure to grab some extra cheese, fruit, and wine to carry back with her inside of her lamp.

  Of course, she had to be granted permission from her Keeper first. That was the rule for bringing things from the outside world into her lamp. Which was irritating as hell and had pissed her off when she first realized she couldn’t do it.

  It wasn’t like there was a genie manual or anything. It had taken years and many different Keepers for her to learn all of the rules. There were some wishes she didn’t have the ability to grant because they would go against the laws of nature.

  And there were some things she just didn’t have the ability to do. She didn’t know why she couldn’t do them. Trial and error was how she’d learned she couldn’t do them. Bringing things from the outside world was one of those things she simply couldn’t do.

  Not without permission. To get permission, she had to be extra nice to Saxon. She had to smile and pretend she enjoyed conversing with him. Which, surprisingly, wasn’t as hard to do as it had been with her previous Keepers.

  Even though he was a shifter, he was a pretty great listener. Sure, his voice was rough and gruff, and when he was around his men, he yelled a lot and drank entirely too much. Oh, and he was a killing machine. She couldn’t leave that off the list.

  But, when they were alone, he was mostly quiet and often liked for her to do all of the talking. Her being a natural-born storyteller, she couldn’t resist telling him stories. Though she pretended it was a chore, their story times together were her favorite part of the day.

  Who would’ve thought that a big man like Saxon O’Rourke would need to be told bedtime stories so that he could go to sleep? It was kind of cute and endearing. Well, it would be, if he wasn’t the Keeper of her Lamp. Bastard.

  Tonight, she wasn’t particularly interested in story time. She had other things, more important things, to do tonight. Caly dried Saxon’s back then tossed both cloths into the basket next to the wooden table.

  “All done,” she announced.

  He acknowledged her words with his usual grunt as he turned and strolled from his bathroom to his bedroom. Please say, ‘that will be all,’ so I can return to the comfort of my lamp, please. I want to try to get one more orgasm in, a satisfying one, before bed.

  “Follow,” he called out.

  Fiddlesticks! Gritting her teeth, she followed him out of his tiny makeshift bathroom and into his tiny makeshift bedroom. These accommodations were too small for such a large man.

  He had to walk with his shoulders hunched just so his head wouldn’t touch the top of the tent. For the entire time he’d been her Keeper, they’d been moving from shore to shore as he and his men journeyed across the southern border on their way back to their homeland.

  Her previous Keeper, the King of Edgeworth, had been killed by Saxon after Saxon stormed his castle and decimated his lands. She knew she should feel bad for King Edgeworth. She didn’t. The man was a dick.

  About ten years ago, he’d used her to help him overthrow the previous king. And then he’d claimed the throne and changed the name of the kingdom to his last name. He taxed the poor while allowing the rich to live tax-free lives.

  He’d been a womanizer who often forced his maids to perform sexual acts for him. Numerous times he’d called Caly out of her lamp so she could watch him have sex with his maids.

  And though the maids always said they were happy to serve him, she knew they only did it because he held their lives in his hands. Her heart ached for them. They had it worse than her. Yeah, she was trapped in a lamp, but her Keepers couldn’t hurt her.


  And the fact that he couldn’t hurt her was what always pissed the king off. No, she wasn’t sorry that he was dead. She was happy. His people and his land were better off without him.

  After killing King Edgeworth, Saxon had left his brother and a few of his men behind to rule over the kingdom. There had even been a wedding. Which was a common way to make hostile takeovers go smoother.

  She’d seen enough of them over the years to know that a marriage didn’t always smooth things over with the people. Even so, Saxon’s brother was now married to the former king’s daughter, who was a Grade A bitch with a capital B.

  And having only met Saxon’s brother once, she knew him to be a man of few words like his brother. Patisha Edgeworth, now Patisha O’Rourke, was going to talk her husband to death. What a horrible way to die. No one should have to die that wa…

  “Oomph.” Caly ran into something hard.

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?” Saxon growled.

  Blinking rapidly, she stared up at him. When had he stopped walking?

  “Oh… uh…” she took a step back. “Sorry for running into you.” She hadn’t been paying attention. Daydreaming again. Ugh.

  He faced her and took a step forward. “I asked you a question.”

  Right! He’d asked her what was going on in her head. To lie or to tell the truth? She’d lied enough for one night. “I was thinking about your brother.”

  “Why?” Saxon growled. “Why are you thinking about my brother?”

  Caly ignored the anger in his voice. “I’m free to think of whatever and whoever I want. That’s one thing you do not have control over,” she reminded him. “Thankfully,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Watch it, Calypso.”

  Yeah, she probably should’ve saved the attitude for a day when she wasn’t hungry. She bowed her head slightly then returned her gaze to his. “I apologize. I didn’t get enough sleep today.” And to think, she’d thought she was done lying for the day.

  “Answer the question. Why were you thinking about my brother?”

  “I was reminiscing. Something my kind are prone to do?”

  “The elven folk?”

  Caly nodded. “I was thinking of Beck’s wedding to Patisha. And how she was probably going to talk him to death. And how they had nothing in common.”

  “A runner returned to the camp last night with news of my brother. My brother and his wife are faring well.”

  “Really? You’re lying.”

  “Did you just call me a liar?” He growled.

  Oops. “No, my Lord. I said you should try lying down. You should lie down and tell me all about Patisha and Beck.”

  She was interested in hearing this story. Was it going to be a romantic comedy or a horror? She was eager to listen either way. Though, she was hoping it was a horror. A bloody horror that ended with Patisha’s death.

  “You’re the one who’s supposed to tell me stories,” Saxon reminded her.

  “And I will, my Lord. Just tell me how they’re doing?”

  “What will you do for me if I tell you?”

  How could a grown male be so bratty? “I’ll tell you an extra-long story tonight. How about that?”

  He stared at her for a long time then finally nodded. “Well, while my brother’s new wife does have a sharp tongue, she has even sharper nails.”

  Um, okay. She had no idea what that meant. “Sooo… uh… I don’t get it.”

  “She has sharp nails.” He gifted her with a half-grin. It was just a slight raise at the corner of his mouth, yet, her dumb heart did that weird thing it always did when he decided to smile, which was rare.

  Clearing her throat and ignoring the dimple in his cheek, she said, “I still don’t get it.”

  “She has sharp nails, Calypso.” He was starting to sound frustrated.

  She was frustrated too. “So, she has sharp nails?”

  He nodded.

  “So what? So do I.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You do?”

  She showed him her hands. Her nails started to extend. “See, claws.” They returned to their normal shape. Why was he glaring at her now?

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “What?” She still didn’t get it. “Did she try to claw his eyes out or something?”

  Saxon grunted.

  “No? Okay. Did she try to slice his throat?”

  “Caly…”

  “One more guess. Did she try to cut off his…” She glanced down Saxon’s body. “Most important part? Know what I mean?” She winked.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” He shuddered at the thought she’d presented.

  Her shoulders slumped and she sighed. “What does sharp nails mean? It must be a metaphor for something. But I don’t get it.”

  Saxon took a deep breath then told her, “Beck is using sex to curb his wife’s tongue. She has sharp nails means, she likes to claw at his back when he rides her. So, he keeps her using her sharp nails so that she doesn’t have time to use her sharp tongue. Get it?”

  Oh. Wow. That was not what she’d expected. “Sex? He has sex with her and that makes her less… bitchy?”

  Saxon nodded.

  She wasn’t buying it. “But she’s so spoiled, ungrateful, and bratty. I’ve never met a grown female brattier than her.”

  “Apparently, cock is the cure for that.”

  Now he was just being crude. Caly rolled her eyes. “It’s just like a man to think cock is the cure for everything.”

  “Did you just roll your eyes at me? Again?”

  Fiddlesticks! “No, my Lord. They twitched. They’ve been doing that a lot lately. Lack of sleep. Let’s get you to bed, and then I’ll pull up a chair and tell you a story.”

  Still naked, he grunted but allowed her to lead him to his bed, which was pretty much just a pallet of blankets on the ground. On the tray next to his bed were two chalices of wine, a selection of cheeses, and fruit. She had no idea who they’d stolen that from, but it looked delicious.

  “It’s not stolen.”

  He’d caught her staring. She was practically drooling. “I’m not judging, my Lord.”

  “You’re always judging.”

  “Not true.” Maybe a little.

  “I had it brought in here for you.”

  For me? A huge grin spread across her face. “Both chalices of wine are mine?”

  “No, greedy genie.”

  Her smile faded. “Oh.”

  “But, if you join me in bed, instead of pulling up a chair, you can have both chalices.”

  As if. “Never mind. I’ll just take the one.”

  “Join me in bed if you want anything that’s on the tray.”

  Fiddlesticks. Why would he go and pull a stunt like that tonight? “You know you can’t command me to do any…”

  “Anything sexual,” he finished for her.

  “Exactly.”

  “Did I say I wanted you to do anything sexual?”

  “No, but…”

  “I can easily find a woman if I want to fuck. You, genie, are not my type.”

  Ugh, this wasn’t the bastard’s first time telling her that. Apparently, the blue eyes and blue hair was a turn off for him. On more than one occasion, the idiot had told her that he liked his females with more meat on their bones.

  If she weren’t trapped in a lamp, she’d have more meat on her bones. Well, not really. This was who she was. Slender, but slightly curvy. Brown skin. Blue eyes. Blue hair. She was who she was and she was damn proud of it.

  She’d never want to change to fit some male’s view of the perfect woman. Fuck that. Plus, she was glad she wasn’t his type. She didn’t want to be his type. She didn’t want a nearly seven-foot savage with weird eyes and a large cock to be attracted to her.

  “For once, would you pay attention to me.”

  Blinking, she stared up at him. Oh, right, he was still there. “Sorry, my Lord.”

  “You said you haven’t been sleeping
well in your lamp. Tonight, you will sleep here. I command it.”

  Damn it. Calypso stared down at the pallet. Sleep outside her lamp? With him? This was the Fates punishing her for lying so much. And for daydreaming so much. She really needed to cut back on both.

  “I don’t like sleeping outside of my…”

  “I command it, Calypso.”

  “Understood, my Lord. But I’d prefer…”

  “I wish it, Calypso.”

  Fiddle-fucking-sticks. “My Lord, I snore and…”

  “Calypso Rivers…”

  A dull ache started in her head. She sighed then whispered, “Your wish is my command, my Lord.”

  A sly grin crept across his face.

  Bastard.

  Chapter Three

  Saxon O’Rourke tore his gaze away from his genie.

  Looking into her midnight blue eyes always did something to him. It made him want things he’d never have, things he wanted to ask for, but couldn’t bring himself to do so. Some of the things he wanted were off-limits, forbidden.

  Even if he did command her to do it, she wouldn’t have to obey. Sexual activities that involved him were at the top of that list. Genies couldn’t be commanded to perform sexual favors. They had to give themselves to you freely.

  And he knew for a fact that Caly didn’t want him in that way. And though it was wrong of him to want to command that of her, he desperately wanted to do so. He wanted Calypso Rivers more then he’d ever wanted anything in his life.

  All the other things he’d wanted, he’d been able to fight, kill, and steal to obtain. None of that would work on her. He had no idea what would work on her. Since he couldn’t have her underneath him, he’d settle for having her by his side.

  She would sleep beside him every night from this day forth until they reached their next destination in a few weeks. He watched her stretch the covers out, trying to make enough space for the both of them. She sat down on the edge of the blanket then stared up at him.

  “Are you going to stand there all night, my Lord?”

  He held in his grin. The sweet sound of her sarcastic words made him want to smile. She was a unique blend of politeness mixed with insubordination. She always took her time in obeying him.