Shuddering at the disagreeable thought of losing him, she dropped her wet glass on the floor. It shattered and, uttering a surprised gasp, she squatted to pick up the pieces, slicing her finger in the process.
“Oh damn…”
Lugal raced to her side, taking her hand and examining the bleeding finger. “You have injured yourself.” Acting on familiarity, he yanked the T-shirt from his jeans, grabbing the knife Samantha had used to cut the bread and poking through it. He tore off a strip of fabric, wrapping it around her finger.
“Let me tend to this mess, Samantha. When I am finished, I will clean your wound and protect it with the all new anti-bacterial liquid bandage that is far superior to the old fashioned plastic strips.”
Samantha cried. She couldn’t help it. He was just so damned sweet and caring and gallant and funny. Even if he did have an inflated ego and hugely chauvinistic tendencies.
She decided she’d wait to tell him he could have simply torn a paper towel from the holder instead of making a rag out of his brand new shirt. The last thing she wanted to do was make him feel foolish at this chivalrous moment.
Lugal cradled her hand. “Why do you cry, little one? Is the pain severe?”
“No…no, I just—” She hiccupped a sob. “I just think you’re wonderful, that’s all.” Once the waterworks started she had a hard time turning them off. All the thoughts about losing Lugal and him having to be all cooped up until God knows when some other woman would find him and…
Some other woman.
She cried harder.
Samantha waved her hand. “Just don’t pay any attention to me. I’m fine, really.”
“Perhaps you are suffering from PMS, Samantha. Symptoms may include but are not limited to bloating, anxiety, tearfulness, mood swings and—”
Samantha’s tears turned to laughter, just like that. “Come here, you great big wonderful genie, and give me a hug.” God how she wanted to tell him that she loved him at that moment.
Lugal’s eyebrow arched. “Mood swings, indeed,” he noted, before grabbing her into a hug and squeezing. He kissed away her tears, smoothing wet strands of hair from her face. “Non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs such as ibuprofen, are helpful for PMS-associated discomfort,” he whispered against her ear, causing Samantha to completely dissolve into laughter.
Then she started crying again.
And she wasn’t anywhere close to getting her period.
“Don’t mind me, Lugal,” she said, drying her tears on his torn T-shirt. “It’s probably just a case of being overtired and then dealing with all the stress of finding a genie in my kitchen two days ago. You know, everyday stuff like that.” She chuckled.
“Yes, I have not been allowing you to get much sleep,” Lugal agreed, guiding her back to the kitchen chair. “I am sorry, Samantha. After spending so much time half-dead in the bottle, I crave the waking hours and sleep only when absolutely necessary.” He tore the remainder of his shirt from his body and spread it on the floor, picking up shards of glass and depositing them on the material.
She swallowed hard as she watched him. He was so fucking sexy without even realizing it.
“That’s okay,” Samantha said, thoroughly enjoying the exquisite play of muscles as Lugal worked. That bronzed body of his was beyond superb. She squirmed in her seat, realizing she’d gone from crying to laughing and back again, and now her pussy ached and wept with longing. Good grief, she was losing it.
“I’ve enjoyed every single minute of our waking hours together, Lugal. I’ve never had such fun as the time I’ve spent with you.”
“It is the same for me, little one.” He looked up from his task long enough to smile. “Being with you is like having the sun shine down upon me, warming me and making me glad and grateful to be…alive. For however short a time it is. It is the first time I have felt truly alive since I was locked away in that bottle.”
Samantha started to cry again.
“Come,” he said, extending his hand after cleaning the broken glass and setting it in the trash. “We will tend to your finger and then you will show me this computer you have told me about. We will Google together, yes?” He waggled his eyebrows and Samantha realized he’d made an attempt at a bawdy joke.
“That’s very cute,” she said, finally in charge of her emotions again—at least for the moment. “You’re catching on quickly.”
Lugal took great care with her finger, treating her small wound as if it were as serious as one received in battle. Of course, he lectured her about the lack of liquid bandages as he wound the beige plastic strip around her digit.
“You’re going to see a lot of information on the computer, Lugal,” Samantha told him a few minutes later as she pulled a second chair in front of the computer, signaling for Lugal to sit. “With that photographic memory, you won’t be in danger of going into overload or something, will you?”
“If you refer to taking in too much knowledge at once, nay, you need not worry. I will be selective.”
Samantha moved the mouse and the monitor’s dark screen brightened. “This is a computer. Don’t ask me how it works because I don’t have a clue. All I can tell you is that it’s kind of like having a brain inside a box. Not a human brain, it’s a man-made manufactured one. This little device I have my hand on is called a mouse. It guides the user.”
“So it is a form of intelligence. Like an oracle, a seer,” Lugal noted.
Samantha hedged. “Not exactly. It’s more like a storehouse of knowledge gathered from people all over the world.”
“What does it know?”
“Just about everything.” She clicked the mouse, taking them online. “This is the Internet, sometimes called the information highway. It’s like an entire library of books at your fingertips.” She visited a few of her favorite websites as she spoke, watching Lugal’s captivated reaction as she made brief explanations.
Lugal clasped his head. “You were right, Samantha. My head is spinning.” He laughed.
“This is Google,” Samantha said, pulling up Google’s main website. “It’s a search engine. We type in what we’re searching for here, and—”
“Look! The letters appear on the screen as your fingers strike the buttons.”
“Yup. This is my keyboard. It’s used like a typewriter, except the words appear on the monitor’s screen instead of on paper. Maybe Abigail had a typewriter…or maybe they weren’t even invented by 1859.”
“I do not recall such a device.” His finger hovered over the keyboard and he looked to Samantha. “May I make some letters appear?”
“Sure. Go right ahead. You type something in and we’ll Google it and see what kind of information we find.”
“Yes. First, I think I will find out more about this entity you call me. How is this word genie spelled?”
After spelling it, Samantha watched as, using his index finger, Lugal typed the word in the search box.
Almost twenty-three million entries popped up in answer to his search, among them were pages about garage door openers, Halloween costumes, people named Genie and tons of other unrelated hits.
Samantha showed him how to refine the search and scroll through the listings, smiling when she happened on one in particular. She had Lugal click on the link, which took him to a website devoted to the old I Dream of Jeannie TV show from the 1960s. The familiar theme music played as the title flashed across a pink background.
“Click there,” Samantha suggested. Lugal did and they were brought to a page offering video clips from various episodes. She chose one from the first episode, where, stranded on a desert island, astronaut Tony Nelson finds a genie in a bottle.
Lugal watched with rapt attention as Tony pulled the stopper from the bottle. When he rubbed it to brush away the sand, out fumed a female genie.
“It is like me!” Lugal said excitedly.
Within thirty minutes, hopping from site to site, they learned everything anyone ever wanted to know about genies, fact, fiction and
speculation.
“There, you see?” Samantha said. “We learned that genies are not only born that way, regular people can also be transformed into them. So I was right all along. You are a genie!” She hugged his neck and kissed him. “My very own personal genie!”
Lugal nodded slowly. “It appears that I am. Like Aladdin, but without all his powers. “
“Exactly,” Samantha agreed. “Now we just have to find a way to undo the magic that got you into this mess and turn you back into a regular man.”
Heaving a mighty sigh as his shoulders slumped, Lugal said, “I do not believe this is possible, little one. The priest and priestess who had me bottled up are long since dead. There is no one left who remembers me or my fate.”
“Right, but what about Inanna, hmm? If she’s a goddess, she must be immortal, right?”
“Yes, but I told you before, I have appealed to the great and fearsome Inanna many times. She turns a deaf ear to my pleas and lamentations, Samantha. A goddess of her stature will not hear the petition of a lowly mortal unless that mortal is a holy man or woman in her service.”
“We’ll see about that. We have six months to find a way to reach her and fix everything.”
His arm around her shoulder, Lugal drew Samantha close. “I love your fierce, determined spirit, little one. And I love that you are so concerned about my welfare. I thank you, my sweet.” He kissed her. It was just a gentle lip-brush of gratitude at first, but soon became a torrid lip-lock with dueling tongues and plenty of heavy breathing.
Once they came up for air, Samantha smiled as she gazed into his eyes and stroked his jaw. “I don’t know if we’ll succeed, Lugal, but I promise you I’m going to do everything humanly possible to free you from your unjust imprisonment.”
With all this wealth of amazing, modern technology at her fingertips, there had to be a way to liberate Lugal.
And if there was, she’d damn well find it.
Chapter Fifteen
“It is amazing,” Lugal said, sitting forward and squinting to read from the monitor. “Abigail lived to be one hundred fifteen. She died in 1923.”
“And just look at all she accomplished in her lifetime,” Samantha said. “She took in the homeless, fed them, taught them and helped them find jobs and shelter when they were ready. What a remarkable woman.”
Lugal nodded, moving the mouse to the bottom of the page and highlighting a short paragraph. The man was a fast learner.
“The last owner of Henley House,” he read, “Franklin Henley, was a direct descendant of her brother. He was a childless widower, the last living heir of the Henley estate.”
“See all the good you did, Lugal?” Samantha smacked his cheek with a big kiss.
He looked at her, genuine surprise in his expression. “Me? I did nothing. It was all Abigail’s doing.”
“That’s not true. If you hadn’t been there for Abigail when she needed rescuing, she wouldn’t have been able to help all those poor people, Lugal. By granting those three wishes, you ended up helping hundreds, maybe thousands, of people—and the foundation established in her name continues to help those in need.”
Lugal smiled. “This makes me glad. It helps me to believe that my years of incarceration have not rendered me completely impotent as a man.”
“Oh, my dear Lugal,” Samantha winked, snaking her hand down to clutch the bulge at his groin, “impotence is one thing you definitely don’t have to worry about.” An erection bloomed immediately at her touch.
Lugal laughed. “I do not mean impotent in that way, little one. I mean—”
Samantha silenced him with a kiss. “I know exactly what you meant.” She smoothed his long locks from his shoulders. “Ineffective, powerless, helpless…but you’re not any of those either. You’re more of a man than any man I’ve ever met or known of, Lugal. Just think of all the frightening things you’ve had to face each time you’ve popped out of that bottle. You never had any idea what to expect. But you faced each event with courage, valor and admirable bravery.”
A smile took hold, lighting his eyes. “You truly think so?”
“I do.” She trailed a path of kisses along his jaw. “After all, you conquered the fearsome cell phone and refrigerator beast, didn’t you?” She laughed. “Seriously, you’re an amazing man, Lugal, and I’m proud to know you.”
He nodded, a look of seriousness across his features. “Thank you, Samantha. Your earnest words hold great meaning for me. In this time without end in the bottle, so many centuries since I led the armies of Sumer, it has been difficult to remember that I was once a man of worth.”
His words broke her heart. He said them as a simple statement of fact, without an ounce of self-pity. Not only had his life been cruelly ripped from him, his sense of importance, of counting for something, had become lost as well.
“You’re still a man of worth, Lugal. You don’t have to be leading men into battle to have value as a human being. You’re a fine man. A good man with a good heart. No one can ever take that away from you.”
Lugal took a deep breath and sat straight in his chair. “Thank you,” he said simply.
Oh damn. Samantha felt those tears rising again. She really had to get a grip.
“I’ve been looking at that computer monitor for so long my eyes are beginning to cross,” she said, changing the subject before she started blubbering again. “I could use a break. How about you?”
He rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, my eyes ache from reading all the little words and my head spins from all that I have learned. What shall we do now, little one?” He waggled his eyebrows, shifting his demeanor from solemn to playful in a heartbeat. “I have something in mind in the event you cannot think of anything.” He reached over and nipped her bottom lip, dragging it through his teeth.
Samantha breathed a desirous sigh. “Mmmm, very tempting.” She licked her lip, relishing the lingering taste of him there. “But first I want to introduce you to my best friend.”
“Rosie?” Lugal’s head canted to the left. “I have already met her. Besides, this is not a time for friends, Samantha.” His voice was deep and husky as he palmed one of her breasts, giving it a firm squeeze. “This is a time for—”
“Rosie comes in a very close second,” she interrupted, feeling her heartbeat thump out a rumba as she spoke. “To chocolate,” Samantha explained. “And she’s very understanding about that. Probably because chocolate is her best friend too.” She grinned, recalling their last chocolate binge together, involving chocolate martinis, fudge brownies, a box of chocolate truffles and a jar of chocolate fudge ice cream topping with a pair of butter knives. It took them a week of intense aerobics and ingesting nothing but rabbit food to make up for that heavenly but hugely calorific spree.
“Food as a best friend?” Lugal gave her a peculiar look. “Most intriguing. It is a concept I do not understand.” He grabbed Samantha around the waist and dragged her onto his lap, snuggling against her neck and kissing her nape. “You have mentioned chocolate many times since we first met and each time your expression grows wistful and covetous. Yes, I think it is time you introduced me to this wonder food so that I too may experience its exultant qualities.”
“Okay.” She started to hop off his lap, but Lugal held her tight.
“A bit later, perhaps,” he said, trailing his fingers up and down along her inner thighs, sending an urgent tickle to her clit. “I hunger for something more than chocolate right now.” With one hand firmly seizing her crotch, his other hand snaked up inside her sweater.
Samantha stilled his exploring fingers. “You’re a very bad boy. A terrible influence. How am I supposed to concentrate on anything but sex with you around?”
Lugal arched an eyebrow. “You are not.” He tweaked her nipple, which went rigid at the first whisper of his touch. A little moan escaped her lips and she squirmed in his lap. Lugal stared at her with a particularly wicked gleam in his eye. “Your loins are aquiver, Samantha,” he said
. “You desire to fuck me.”
“Yes, my loins are aquiver. My pussy’s dripping and my clit’s pulsing,” she confirmed. “You better believe I desire to fuck you.”
Growling his pleasure at her words, Lugal’s teeth flashed white as he busied his fingers at the snap and zipper of her jeans.
“But first,” she insisted, pushing against his chest and making firm eye contact, “we’re having chocolate.” She was determined to keep her raging libido under control and establish something more between her and Lugal than just sensational, steamy, hot sex.
Samantha Rutledge, are you insane?
As the intrusive question skirted across her mind, she ignored it.
“I could be making you quake right now, little one,” Lugal murmured against her mouth, his voice husky and full of erotic promise. “As you sit here in my arms, I could bring you to a screaming orgasm. Nay, more than one…and you know I speak the truth.” He licked and nibbled his way from her neck to her jaw to her mouth, where his tongue outlined a scorching path around her parted lips.
A needy whimper slipped past her lips. As he lowered the zipper of her jeans, Samantha clapped Lugal’s hand, then removed it.
“Normally I prefer my chocolate plain or with nuts or caramel,” she said, doggedly trying to maintain control as she fought her traitorous hormones. “But when we were at the store yesterday I bought some chocolate covered cherries because most of my male clients at TBT say those are their favorite.”
“Is that so?” He was nibbling her ear lobe, his tongue meandering inside her ear, licking and exploring. “Something tells me I will find this treat most entrancing. I am eager to sample it and learn more about your best food friend. The sooner I do, the sooner we will fuck again, yes?”
“Yes.” And, wanton, sex-obsessed plaything that she’d become, she could barely wait. “I know you’ve never had chocolate, Lugal, have you ever had cherries?”
“Nay.”
“Good.” Samantha peeled his arms from around her, immediately feeling deprived at the loss of his touch. She hopped off his lap. “Come on, genie,” she enticed, crooking her finger and flouncing out of the room. “We’re heading for the kitchen.”
Samantha and Her Genie Page 23
