Page 21 of Bewitched By the Djinn
Flustered—and hating that he can probably sense that too—I place my hand on top of his.
His palm is big, fingers long, warm, and dry. The moment our skin touches, a charge surges between us, like static but deeper, a low hum under my skin. I jolt, but his grip tightens ever so slightly, grounding me.
And then another sensation rushes in.
Heat. Arousal.
Not mine.
I don’t think it’s mine.
I haven’t been this turned on in years. I take a deep breath.
It’s only the bond. It has to be. An unnatural, forced connection. That’s why it’s so intense, so overwhelming.
How do I know what’s mine or his? Do they amplify each other?
What would it be like to sleep with someone when you could sense their arousal, have it feed into your own?
My face burns. Nope. Not going there.
“Close your eyes,” he instructs.
“Why?”
“It will help you concentrate.”
I hesitate, then comply.
The air between us is thick, charged. I drag in a breath and force myself to pay attention.
“Concentrate on your breathing. In and out.”
I follow his voice, deep and soothing, letting it guide me. The buzz of energy is still under my skin, but I push past it.
“Now,” he continues, “imagine there’s a wall around your mind. It can be made of whatever you like, whatever is strongest for you. Iron, stone, or brick.”
I need something impenetrable. Thick steel. Heavy, gray, molded around my thoughts like a vault.
“Good,” he says softly. “You don’t need to hold it down with force. That will only exhaust you. Instead, envision a latch. A locking mechanism that secures it effortlessly.”
In my mind, I form four latches—one on each side of the steel casing—and click them into place.
That’s better.
“Excellent.” There’s approval in his tone. “I can’t feel you anymore. Now, you can choose to keep them locked or release them whenever you want.”
“Why would I release them?”
He tilts his head. “I’m not sure. Perhaps if you wanted to share something with me in private.”
I snort. “Not likely, buddy.”
His lips press together, his eyes sparkling with a glimmer of amusement before he draws his hand away.
The absence is immediate.
“So. Food.” I push to my feet.
