All Bottled Up by Christine D'Abo Page B

back of his neck. Needing to be closer, she pulled him down. Opening her lips, she coaxed him in with her tongue. They silently dueled, caressing and tasting each other. She moaned, her body still wanting more from him.
    Her fingers found his stomach and began to tease the cord of muscles hiding under his shirt. They flexed under her touch as she ran them up his body and over his chest and shoulders. She finally buried her fingers into his soft dark hair, massaging his skin as she did.
    His growl this time was anything but playful. She felt powerful, was powerful. She had a genie eating out of the palm of her hand. She pushed her body hard against his, thrilled by the feel of his erection against her stomach. God, I want this. I want him.
    But when he pulled back suddenly, Viola was left standing there, stunned by the missing warmth and contact.
    Her voice shook as she asked, “Did I do something wrong?” His crystal blue eyes searched her face for something. His breath came out in short gasps.
    “Nothing. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
    She couldn’t be sure, but he looked confused. She didn’t like this. A tense seriousness floated between them. She reached up and stroked his goatee.
    “Would Bill have liked it?”
    His eyes flashed anger. “Bill.” He closed his eyes and took a breath. “Bill would approve of the way you kiss.”
    Heart pounding in her chest, she asked the question she really wanted to know. Her mouth was suddenly very dry.
    “Did you like it?” she whispered.
    When he opened his eyes again to look at her, he wore his confusion again.
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    “Does it matter?”
    She tried to say yes, but the word didn’t want to come out. Viola nodded instead.
    “No one has asked me what I liked before. But I have to say, kissing you right now was… I liked it very much, Viola.”
    Mentally, Viola did cartwheels. Why it was so suddenly important to make Jerod happy, she didn’t question. He was happy, and he may even like her a little bit. Maybe more than a little bit.
    “I’ve never met a man like you before,” she said and leaned in to begin another kiss.
    But this time he pulled back. A range of emotions passed over his face, so many she couldn’t keep up. He took a step back and, in a blink of an eye, he’d changed from his evening outfit back into the genie clothing he’d wore when she’d first met him.
    “That’s because I’m not a man.” He paused and gave his head a shake. “I haven’t been for a very long time.”
    “Jerod, I’m—”
    He pressed a finger against her lips. “Don’t say it. You have nothing to apologize for. You’ve passed your kissing lesson with, what’s the expression?”
    “Flying colors?” She hated that she sounded like she would cry.
    He didn’t seem to notice. Or he couldn’t acknowledge it because of his own emotional flux.
    “Yes, with flying colors. We will continue our lessons tomorrow. And you should begin to consider your second and third wishes soon. You are such a quick study, I’m not sure our lessons will last long.”
    With a brief flash of light he was gone. His bottle that she’d set on the coffee table glowed briefly before going dark.
    “Jerod?”
    Nothing. Viola replayed what had happened, tried to figure out where she went wrong. It had been going so well, until she’d asked him a personal question.
    She would never have guessed a genie would have intimacy issues.
    Energy was rapidly leaving her body. All of the excitement and chaos of the past day 69
     
     
    finally caught up with her. Between her adventure getting here and finding a genie, she didn’t think she could take much more.
    Her body fell with a muffled thud against the satin sheets. She didn’t even have the energy to get changed into her pajamas. As sleep began to claim her, she was vaguely aware of the room darkening as the candles doused themselves one by one, and the sound of the balcony doors clicking shut. With a sigh, she let sleep claim