Tag Archives: Lighter

Lighter part 2

On the next evening he was back. He didn’t bother to be nice, he told himself, it was time for a show and he tended to play it as spicy as she could eat her curry he was taking her to eat. Yes, he was taking her out. Part of his ingenious plan.

He pushed the black button and the door bell rang four times.

She appeared on the door with the same lazy outfit he’d seen her the night before. He scanned her from her hair to her feet and grimaced resentfully. The medallion was still hanging around her neck and he took a second longer to sense her reaction through that. A heat wave rushed over her.

“Come on, get dressed, we’re going for a dinner!” he announced with vile piling up in his mouth and walked straight in, pushing her back in her small apartment. He made his way straight to her bedroom’s closet and pulled the doors open.

“What?” she frowned, feeling life returned in her frozen limbs. “Time out!”

He turned around, raising his eyebrows as high as he could manage. “Yes?”

“W-what are you doing here? I told you to take time for yourself and now you’re here?”

He let his brows drop with demonic smile and took a step closer. “Where else could I be?” he pushed through his teeth, “You hold my medallion. So? There’s only one place I CAN be!”

He sensed how her body heated up, knowing suddenly what he meant, but she didn’t want to believe it just yet. “W-what do you mean by that?”

“That you made a miscalculation, Peachey! The medallion never was what forged my promises in iron – it holds me from nothing! It’s my gateway to the rooms where I’m called in!” he whispered straight to her ear, but kept his distance enough not to touch her. It may not hold him from breaking every law she forced on him, but he found the don’t-touch rule pretty much to his liking, especially since he resented the thought of touching her at all right now.

A flip through her stomach made her radiate so much warmth for a moment that he choked on his own thoughts. She moaned in agony, realizing fully what he meant with that.

“You have a choice,” he decided it was the best time to bring out his ultimatum and save them some night time, “you either give me the medallion back now and I can go on doing my business or you keep the little adornment and feel the full heat of my anger while I force you give it up!”

Why did it make him sad then? He frowned, but straightened again fast, happy that she hadn’t noticed it. She wasn’t in the mood to notice much though. She was still standing there, her eyes closed and thinking so tensely it was making her head swarm. She looked as if she was going to faint right there and that brought him back to life, searching for the chair, finding one under a pile of clothing, pushing them on the floor and tugging it in the back of her knees forcing her to take a seat.

He waited for her answer, but she didn’t give any. That WAS his answer, he thought cheerfully, glad she hadn’t tossed it back to him, and strode past her, back to investigating the interior of her closet.

There were several items there he would rather tossed in the recycle bin before continuing, but he held back his whim and instead concentrated on what he DID like there. Like the light green summer dress that would’ve nicely complimented her cleavage or the cobalt dress that would make her slightly bigger and curvy than she appeared in that dreadful outfit she had on right now or the short ammonite colored dress with enough space around her breasts that every time she’d lean, she’d show quite a lot of her…

She leaped from her spot just as he was reaching his hand into what he thought must have been her underwear drawer, because he felt an intriguing jolt right before his hand was pulled away from there.

“What are you doing?” she demanded fiercely, snapping the blue gown out of his hands.

“You don’t give it back to me– I’ll drag you to every place I want to go! Clear?”

That was too sudden for her and she frowned with such force it made him skip a heartbeat.

“You can’t force me to go with you against my own will!”

“You said you’re using my service for two weeks and instead gave me two weeks without my medallion. If you don’t want to see my face here twenty-four-seven, I suggest rethinking the boundaries of your own agreement or give the necklace back to me!”

“I ain’t giving it back! Two weeks, remember?” she announced without thinking twice and watched his wide evil smile. She blushed and he sensed her heartbeat quicken under that ugly top. “Alright, I’m coming with you to eat. But I’m not wearing this dress!” she showed it up between her fingers against the light.

He felt his own heart jump as if thrust under his chin and he gulped, suddenly yearning to see her in that, slowly walking through the aisle of tables, men staring lustfully after what he had in his possession all the time.

“Yes you are,” he immediately advocated, forcing those thoughts on the back of his mind. “If you change into anything else, I’ll set them on fire, one by one. While you’re wearing them.”

The last threat seemed to have merit, because her face paled notably even in the bad lighting of the room. He strove out of the bedroom, leaned against the cupboard in the kitchen and watched her backside while she changed into the blue gown.

She disappeared from his view few times, running across the room, forcing her dark yellow stilettos on while searching for something she couldn’t find.

She seemed surprisingly eager to go out, he suddenly thought and the grease between his eyes deepened. Something she was hiding? He quickly skimmed over the kitchen table and saw what she was hiding scattered all over the place – pieces of clay covered with patterns from the medallion!

He picked the closest one up, utterly confused and shaken by this little revelation. She could’ve just taken the medallion and force it’s face into a mold or something! What was she doing with it anyway? Really make a souvenir to herself and her friends? Replace his with her creation and fooling herself even for a second he wouldn’t notice?

“Ready!” she cheered and stopped dead. “Fff…”

He sensed how flushed she was, heat running up her spine. So fear was what made her lose control! If so, he knew exactly where to start!

“What is that?” he asked through his teeth, fiddling with the piece before kneading it into a ball.

“I was bored,” she said quickly, not indulging into details. That didn’t satisfy him.

“And?”

“There’s no and. I make jewelry, it’s my hobby. I was bored and I liked the pattern, so I…” she shrugged.

“Why, so you could make a copy for your friend?”

She inhaled soundly. “No! But she did send it to me, because she thought I might be interested in it and she was right, I am!”

So THAT was the sensation he had felt! She wasn’t interested in him after all, only in the damned pendant!

“But I wouldn’t copy it. It is part of you and copying somebody’s soul, be it as small part as it is, is criminal in every sense of its word!”

“Why should I believe you? Have you any idea what it means? These markings are unique! If anybody, who has encountered me before, happens to see the jewelry, they’ll know immediately, where it’s from!”

“I told you I wasn’t copying it!” Her voice yelled high over his and with force it was released from her vocals, he knew she meant it.

“If they see the patterns, they’ll remember how to call me again, do you understand?”

“Of chores I do! I made that connection long before your arrival yesterday!”

“Then stop carving it!” He bellowed and all the clay pieces burned into dust with such heat it made her flesh blush as if she’d been exposed to Sun.

“Fine!” she shouted back, hands crossed over her breasts, forcing them up.

He waited. He didn’t know, what, but he waited and was rewarded whilst her eyes shut towards the ceiling.

“Fine!” she repeated with anger stroking her throat, collected her carving tools, dashed them into the box that already contained the other stuff she used for metal and clay work and shoved the shoebox into his stomach. “If switch, then switch – I keep your pendant for two weeks, you keep my carving tools! Is that fair enough for you?”

Not really as he was planning to get it back already tonight, but he nodded in agreement and without blinking burned her tools into ash that fell off his fingers on the ground.

Her shoulder slump, her fingers pulsate in agony and her lips parted to express the despair, but not a word passed through.

“You owe me one night with you!” he blackmailed her instead, deciding to take everything if she was already so apologetic.

Her eyes widened and shot up to look straight at him. Her clutched fists fell on her side and she turned to leave.

“No!” she said firmly as a yew in a longbow. “I said no touching! I mean it – you don’t love me, hence you ain’t touching me!”

“Oh, what a whiny!” he winched his nose. “You do understand this kind of thinking was good in middle age, love?  Not in the 21st century!”

She stopped, glowering at him over her shoulder. “You may be personification of obsessive thoughts, but some things in this life are still reserved for those, who appreciate what they’ve got.” She opened the front door and left before he could say anything else that might

That shut him up. He tried to understand why it hurt so much when she said it, like he didn’t appreciate every woman, who needed him. In a way he knew – she wanted the man to want her, not the other way around and she wasn’t interested in getting the fake. And he was the fake kind.

He watched her disappear down the stairs until nothing could be seen anymore before going after her. She had thoroughly ruined his mood for the night and he swore she’d pay for that.

He followed her around for the first blocks, always few steps behind so he could watch her squirm in her blue dress. There was no sunlight that would’ve made it shine through, but it was obvious to anyone around where her flesh touched the fabric and she felt utterly uncomfortable showing it. He had been right about the gorging sighs she gathered, but instead of enjoying it he shot the man second later glances of such obsessive jealousy that made them diminish in their size nearly three times or flee altogether.

They had gone for six blocks already before she stopped and turned around. “Where are we going anyway?”

He passed her without looking back and snapped. “To eat curry.”

“I’m allergic to Tamarind paste!”

“It isn’t that kind of curry.” He pushed through closed teeth, eyeing the sign of the curry restaurant. “We’re here.”

She reluctantly followed his gaze. Adoni. He felt her heart flutter and he knew the reason – this was one of the most known red light district places around! But he wasn’t going for any other place either. They did offer the best curry he’d tasted, hot enough to burn her senseless.

He opened the door and let her in, following her close after so she couldn’t back out. It was all she was probably thinking about and he wasn’t in the mood to give in.

The rooms here were better lit than the streets, making her dress show through even more and her comfort flew out of the window, crossing her hands straight over her bare breasts.

“Stop it!” he hissed to her ears. “No one will notice it here! It’s a whore house! You’ll fit right in.”

She gasped and tears would’ve found their way to her cheeks hadn’t she got enough sense to gulp them down. No crying in public, he thought reluctantly gazing down at her, that’s my girl.

He pushed her further in the room, grabbed her elbow and forced her sit down in one of the corner tables and let her get familiar with her surroundings. She openly looked around in the lushly decorated room and people around small lit candles. The shadows made their face jump and dance while they were talking, few eyed around just as she did and though they were nicely hidden from the main rush, he still sensed some curious stares.

He frowned, disturbed by them way more than he had let him feel earlier and grabbed the menu, hoping it would put him off for a while.

Her chair creaked and suddenly stopped. The heat in her body was becoming unbearable, that sick feeling she had inside, growing and he knew she was ready to flee.

“I’ll walk right out of here!” she announced bluntly after a whistle from the other end of the room, followed by her laud gasp.

“And I’ll fry your dress!” he murmured without looking up from the menu.

“I can’t stay here!”

The heat was starting to disturb his thoughts, making him so hot he wanted to tear his clothes off. He had to cool her somehow or he was the one loosing his wits and he needed them if he wanted to have his medallion back before the sun raised.

“Yes you can! You told me I’m on vacation, and you, my dear, are holding my key, so sit tight and shut up!”

That helped. Her attention was without a doubt on him and he could finally feel the fresh breeze passing.

“And I wish to leave!” she didn’t give in.

“You can leave later. Right now I’m hungry.”

The heat returned and he frowned. He placed the order for both of them, hot curry without tamarind and some cold drinks. After that he took his dark coat off. The moment he put it down next to him on the couch he felt her fingers grab it and the next he knew it rested on her shoulders her pushing her long hands through the sleeves. In a weird way it suited her well and she calmed a bit, giving him some space, too, so he didn’t protest.

OK, so the woman wasn’t the type to turn on through public display, he admitted to himself. Next time – the ammonite dress. No next time! He refused to believe his own thoughts and forced himself to scowl at her, but it didn’t work, so he turned his anger towards the waitress.

Now, nicely tucked in his dark velvety wonder, she finally allowed herself to really look at him. He forced himself to be oblivious of it, keeping his on the waiter, who eagerly tried to please and by that trashed the glasses over on a by standing barman.

He felt his skin crawl. From the corner of his eyes he could tell her fingers had climbed up to her neck and she was gently groping the medallion. The way her touch moved, so did the sensation that heaved through his body. It moved up over his chest, carefully over his neck, down on his right arm, almost to the middle, then down to his stomach. He bit in the breath that was making his body just as tight as the metal she was touching. His eyes closed as her move took the feeling way lower. He listened tensely as her breathing started to change, slow at first, but still and it added to his joy. She was finally giving in to her own fantasies.

Something cool passed his nose and two glasses landed on the table with subtle thud. Just as quietly he heard the waitress ask her if he was tired.

He gasped hard, hearing a familiar click and the next thing he knew he was holding her hand above the glass of water and ice cubes, his medallion only an inch away from the freezing water.

The waitress, who was still standing next to them, held her breath, eyes wide like a kitten and stepped back, realizing she was way over her heals trying to find a man from this table. She quickly disappeared, straight between the kitchen doors.

“Stop that!” he hissed and pushed her hand away. “You have obviously no idea what it does to a man!”

“You’re no man!” She snorted. “You’ll handle it!”

“Oh, I am a man, honey, more ways than you can handle!”

Her face stayed masked.

“Good, our food is here.” he announced, seeing the woman arrive with two plates. She used the moment to drink. “Don’t gulp too fast, dear,” his voice fell low, “you’ll need it after you’ve tasted the food here!”

She nodded to the waitress and ate without adding a word and he watched. Like insane. Her every movement was like music he yearned to learn. Why didn’t she call for him?

“Stop that, I can’t eat if you stare.”

“Get used to it.”

She raised her eyes and looked at him and his plate. He hadn’t touched a thing.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“I want to know something before I eat.”

She lay back on her chair, finishing her mouthful, put the fork down and nodded then. “Alright, ask.”

“If I burn your dress, will you still be so calm and reserved as you are now?”

He meant it, every word of it. If this dress was making her so uncomfortable, he had ways of disposing it.

A shriek of laughter escaped from her full lips, then another and another until it filled the whole room with echoing beautiful laughter.

“You wouldn’t.” she said calmly and picked her fork up, smile still playing on her lips. It was too silly.  Her smile echoed over on his lips too, with slight difference. She got to know it as a smell of burning fabric.

He had never seen a woman froze all over. All of a sudden her face paled and he wondered if he’d seen the blood flowing away or was it just a mirage.

She let her fork fall, rapidly trying to breath and pulling his jacket closer to her bare skin.

Don’t start crying now, you big fuzz, you’ll kill all the joy…

 

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Lighter part 1

„How many of them have you visited those few weeks?” she asked calmly, playing with the oval medallion in her hand. It was nicely carved, without any visible mistake in the pattern, only scratches that might have become out of bad handling.

“Eight.” He said his voice tense and cruel. He held his hand out for the medallion, but she continued brushing it with her fingers. He didn’t get it.

He was loosing his mind over this petite woman, who held it. One of his lovers had sent it to her with a letter explaining all about its origin and how to use it. She hadn’t really summoned him, but he knew she had it the moment her warm fingers touched the black golden figure in the middle of it. He was furious at first, angry that one of the women would break the natural way the medallion moved around and instead sent it to someone themselves. He wasn’t a toy that would be passed on – he only appeared to those, who needed him and summoned him.

He let his hand fall on his side again. He had spent his time watching her from the shadow in the back corner of her badly lit apartment. It was a small, perhaps five meters wide kitchen she sat in and he could tell from his view through the side door that the bedroom wasn’t much bigger.

He kept his cool while waiting her to say the words, whisper the name of his entity like they all did – when they needed him, they knew how to call him- but she just sat there, her head empty, her lips closed and not once uttering anything. He was confused – she didn’t radiate from the heat that often marked his invitation nor seemed nervous in anticipation. After a while he had made his move, doubting the whole way as after careful observation he was quite convinced she was not waiting it.

“Don’t touch me!” she yelped a moment before he reached his hands out to place them on her shoulders and kiss her neck and he obeyed, shocked. He had pulled back and waited her reaction for having a stranger in the room, but she didn’t even look up.

“If you haven’t summoned me here for my purpose, I would like to have the medallion back.” He said with restrained calm and felt good for managing it, but it was the last words said in calm, too.

“I haven’t summoned you at all.” She replied coldly and that had led them to the given conversation, which took all his power not to be so damn straight forward with her.

“Eight…” she repeated his word. “And slept with every one of them?” she continued with a question.

“Yes.” He didn’t have to lie about that. He was, after all, spirit created for fantasies.

He watched the medallion disappear in her palm and for a moment he hated his ability to sense the warmth of the skin that touched it. It was his way of knowing if they were ready. She was smothering him with hers and he felt his pants grow tighter. If she wasn’t into mood to call his name, he’d take her without her permission. He didn’t really need their permission; it was only a game that helped women cope with the reality of spirits invading them, giving them the illusion of being the master. Truth was he didn’t need it and the medallion was not meant for that. He needed it to get inside the room.

“Doesn’t it become straining after a while?” she continued and looked up for the first time in the evening. She hadn’t expected him still to be so close and she jerked back in her chair, eyes fixed in his.

That was the first time he felt her body growing heat and he let a knowing grin appear on his lips. He knew she was observing his midnight green eyes, but he was sure that besides frustration there was little of anything else she might have picked up. Then his lips, his shoulders, chest…

The eyes raced back to his face, avoiding going anywhere lower than his chin after that. He had scanned her right after coming in and liked it, but her ash grey eyes took him speechless.

He sensed the medallion heat up as if it was suddenly placed in an oven. He swayed for a moment and gasped for air before hiding it back under his seductive mask. But he knew it was too late and she’d seen it and knew now exactly what made him tick and how precious it was to hold on to that piece of jewelry.

She released it from her grip, but didn’t put it on the table. Instead she let it cool by waving it a bit in the air. That helped and he leaned a bit over the table while letting out a loud breath which might as well have counted as a thank you as it was all she was getting.

“Give it back to me!” he ordered her and reached out for it again, but she tightened her hold on the chain it was on and he had no other choice but let his hand fall without it.

“No. It was sent to me for a reason and I would like to keep it.”

I would rather you didn’t, he thought bitterly. “It doesn’t work like that,” he tried with good at first, “if you don’t want my services, you give the medallion back, not keep it for a… a memory!”

He didn’t want to, but he showed exactly the rage he was trying to hide. He had never been a patient man and waiting was not his dish. Right now, he figured he’d waited enough and he grabbed after the medallion himself. That was a mistake as the next thing he felt was shuddering cold and he saw his dear item splashed into ice cold juice.

“Be nice.” She said calmly while he raised his hands up and backed away from the table. She drew it out, dug out her handkerchief and slowly cleaned it up.

He watched her fingers move and felt the warmth growling back in him; only the heat was gone as if she’d managed to restrain her sudden desire. He frowned. That was first! He leaned against the stove, studying her for good this time, without the outer glamour or how well he could fit in her.

Her blond hair shimmered in the yellow table lamp’s light. They were put up loosely, enough to keep them from her face, but nothing special for anyone else to see. Neither was her slightly grey green striped top or the weird skirt he could sworn he saw last in the end of the 80s. He moved his eyes back up to her face and her unpainted lips that wobbled a bit while she was biting them, all her concentration on the medallion. Her own small bone necklace gleamed nicely just like her hair. The only pigment that wasn’t part of her naturally, were painted on her eyelashes and that was all. Nothing more or anything less.

He calmed notably, realizing she really didn’t want anything from him. It offended him slightly, but he let it slip from his mind just as he let it slip that he was suppose to be on guard, keep his mouth shut and be a good lust spirit that he was. But he didn’t feel it right now, it was surprisingly calm and unemotional.

“It does get straining over time,” he said suddenly and earned her honestly surprised gaze. “You asked. Earlier.”

She thought back a bit. “Oh. Can you go without it for a while?”

“What do you mean?” He felt the growing heat around the medallion. “I don’t do singles, sweetheart.” He grinned openly, but the heat didn’t disappear like the first time.

She shook her head and let out a nice laugh before closing the medallion in her palm. “Don’t you ever wish to go on a vacation?”

His grin widened. “That IS my vacation.” He grew early silent and the grin disappeared a moment later. He couldn’t lie to her. He scolded himself to stop it, sensing the anger rise in her, provoking her wasn’t brining him the results and he became sure if he’ll continue, she’d surely do something permanently damaging for his beloved jewelry.

Something in her eyes gleamed for a moment, but before he turned to make sure what he saw was correct she had already turned back to the medallion and eyed it tensely.

His heartbeat hastened, but he didn’t try to prevent her this time.

“I think I will try your services,” she said suddenly and his shoulder slump. She wasn’t so different after all and perfect pair to her friend, who’ll pay dearly for double-crossing him.

He pushed himself up and closed the short distance between them, but her eyes nailed him in the middle of the room. No, it wasn’t lust she was talking about – there wasn’t even a trace of it there. But she did look annoyed.

“I prohibit you to touch me,” she started seriously. His eyes widened. Was she an idiot? “Starting from today, you are on a vacation. I know you don’t follow anybody’s rules, except of those, who hold the medallion, so here’s my proposition.” She specifically stressed the last word, “I don’t tell you to ignore, who you are, but instead of sleeping with those, who call for you, do it, because you wish it.”

I am not a jinnee, who follows his bottle, he wanted to stress out to her, too, but he kept his mouth shut. If she needed to think she was in control of the situation, good for her, but he was not letting it go so easily. He wanted to teach her a lesson about that prohibition she so cleverly thought out, but he’ll do it later, after he has got his medallion back. Oh yes, there was one girl he was starting to feel interest in and she was up for a good lesson in demonology.

He reached his hand out, explicitly demonstrating one thought. His calm was gone and he was angry that a woman, who had so neatly turned him into this sedated puppy had managed to enrage him again in less than a second it took her to express her attitude to this. He wanted his medallion back.

She looked up to his eyes, back to the medallion and suddenly flipped it over, hopped it neatly over her hay blond hair and placed it over her perfectly shaped collarbones.

She had never seen so many teeth in one mouth he encountered as he grid his teeth in such raw anger he had felt only few times in his life.

Suddenly it dawned on him what he might do – if she wasn’t giving her the medallion back, he could at least make her life a living hell. He flashed out of the apartment so fast it turned her cold.

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