Lugal jumped to his feet and stretched. Watching all those muscles in his chest and arms ripple, flex and roll was a magnificent sight. If Mrs. Willoughby was peeking through her curtains, she was probably getting some unexpected rapid heartbeat activity—along with a hot flash or two.
“Come, let me show you all the excellent ways I have improved your dwelling,” he said, his arms wrapped around Samantha’s and Rosie’s shoulders as he led them into the house.
Rosie looked over at Samantha and snickered. “Be afraid,” she said out the side of her mouth. “Be very, very afraid.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Whoa!” Rosie said as the threesome stepped into Samantha’s kitchen. “All you need is a disco light ball and you’ll be all set.”
“Magnificent, is it not?” Lugal said with a proud, puffed-up grin.
“My God…” Samantha gazed at the walls, entirely papered with aluminum foil. Upon close inspection she found that the foil had been stapled on in some places and seemingly glued in others. “Why did you do this, Lugal?”
“To increase light and make insulation from both heat and cold. This metal foil is among the greatest inventions I have ever encountered. You see?” He held his arms out for inspection. “It is not only for household purposes, it also makes lightweight cuff adornments for the arms and wrists. Did you know you can cut your roasting time almost in half for turkey by covering the fowl with a metal foil tent? And that the meat will be juicier? And that drinks will remain colder if the glasses are wrapped in foil?”
Lugal stepped to one of the kitchen cabinets and opened it. Like a game show hostess, he gestured to the drinking glasses with a smile, each of which had been cuffed with foil.
“You’ve been a busy boy,” Rosie noted. She leaned her face toward the wall and sniffed. “Um…what did you use to glue on the foil?”
“Mud did not work well. The foil loosened when it dried,” Lugal explained, and Samantha wondered where he’d been digging for the dirt. “Then I discovered multiple uses for simple, everyday items around the house by using Google,” he proudly announced. “I used toothpaste in some places and when I ran out of that, I made a mixture of flour and water and used that.”
Samantha groaned and Rosie laughed. “I can’t believe you did that, Lugal,” Samantha said on a sigh.
“I knew you would be surprised and pleased,” he said, looking quite happy with himself. “Peanut butter also makes good mortar and is very delicious. I ran out because I ate it from knife.”
Rosie snickered and elbowed Samantha. “That’s the same thing we do.”
“Did you know,” Lugal went on, “toothpaste makes an excellent substitute for plaster compound when covering up nail holes? You will find no more unsightly nail holes in your walls, Samantha.”
“Well, I’m just…tickled pink, Lugal,” Samantha said with a deadpan expression. “I hardly know what to say.”
“Such ingenious times you live in,” he noted. “I have learned so much today. My favorite part was gaining knowledge of electricity. Your coffeemaker now operates by this wall switch,” he said, “as well as the button on the pot. Here, let me show you.” He reached for the wall switch and Samantha grabbed his hand, stilling it.
“Uh…no, that’s okay,” she said, moving his hand away, terrified that he’d flip the switch, get zapped and go sailing through another window. “We can check it later.”
“I have also adjusted the wiring mechanisms on your other appliances to make them operate with greater ease.”
“Oh, well, that’s great. Really great. Thank you.”
“In other words,” Rosie offered, “he booby-trapped the place. You’ll never know when you might get jolted from here to eternity at the mere touch of a switch.”
Samantha whapped her arm as Rosie snickered.
“I would be happy to come to your abode, Rosie, and show Charlie how to make the same modifications,” Lugal suggested.
“Yeah, that sounds like a great idea,” Samantha said with an evil grin.
“Charlie’s lucky if he can flip on a light switch, much less modify one.” Rosie laughed.
“Then I will be glad to do the work for him,” Lugal offered.
“Thanks, Handy Andy.” Rosie gave Lugal a pat on the back. “I’ll let Charlie know.”
“You have not noticed the new table I constructed, Samantha. Do you like it?”
With the glitz of the aluminum foil-papered walls reflecting both sunlight and electric lights surrounding her, Samantha’s attention had definitely been hijacked. Her eyes fell on a table structure made of tightly wound twigs, with crisscrossed branches for legs. It was attractive and unique enough to be offered for sale in one of those artsy boutiques.
“Wow, I’m impressed. That’s wonderful, Lugal. You’re very handy, as well as artistic.”
“Yeah, who knew genies could be so multifunctional?” Rosie quipped.
“How did you manage to do all this in such a short time?” Samantha noted that he’d set the table with plates, silverware, foil-wrapped placemats and foil-cuffed water glasses.
“I have always been a fast worker,” he explained. “Now, with the element of limited time being a factor, I work even faster.” He placed his hand on the tabletop and shook it. “You see? It is well-built and functional. I have braced it well underneath.”
“This is nice, but I’m surprised that your old kitchen table fell apart,” Rosie said. “It seemed really sturdy to me.”
“Yes, well, as I said before, it just—” Samantha began.
“It broke under our weight as we made love atop it,” Lugal blurted.
“Damn,” Rosie said, barking laughter as her eyes widened. “You two are a couple of regular snuggle bunnies, huh?”
“Yes, we really like to fuck, if that is what you mean,” Lugal agreed with a broad grin.
“Oh good grief,” Samantha said. “Not another word, Lugal. And that goes for you too, Rosie,” she said as Rosie’s mouth opened with a no-doubt smart-ass comment. “Just zip it.” She made a zipping motion across her lips.
In hopes of changing the subject, Samantha studied the construction of the table. “What kind of fiber did you use to bind the branches? Are the trees still standing, or did you cut them down?”
“They remain. These branches were sorely in need of trimming because they overhung the roof.”
“So you just scooted up the tree trunks with your trusty saber and hacked away, huh?” Rosie asked.
“Yes, exactly.” Lugal nodded. “And when I could not find any rope or twine for binding, I used the amazing stretching material I found in your bedroom, Samantha. It is another miracle substance, to be sure.”
“Stretching material?” She got down close to the table, inspected the thin wrappings and gasped. “My pantyhose! You cut up my pantyhose!”
“When twisted, the pliable fiber becomes very strong,” Lugal said. “I can imagine many uses for pantyhose, as you call them. They would make perfect bindings for wrists and ankles when we are—”
“Lugal!” Samantha shouted. “Can we please keep some things private?”
“Oh, Sam, you’re such a bad girl,” Rosie teased. “I never suspected.”
“Just shut up, Rosie, or I’ll boot your butt out of here before I make my wishes.”
Sporting a mischievous smirk, Rosie pulled an invisible zipper across her lips.
“You are ready to make your wishes?” Lugal asked.
Samantha sucked in a deep breath. “Yes. But let’s do it in the living room, okay?” She had this eerie feeling that something weird might happen if she made her wishes surrounded by all that foil and adapted electrical wiring Lugal had fiddled with. It wouldn’t be good if her wishes came true and she wasn’t around to enjoy them because she’d been fried to a crisp during a lollapalooza of an electrical arc bouncing off her walls during the wishing process.
“Yes, the living room will be good,” Lugal said as they left the kitchen. “As a word of cau
tion, perhaps you might want to avoid turning on the TV until I have finished my electrical modifications. That’s what I was working on when I was suddenly transported through the air and out the window.”
Samantha looked at the ragged gash in the glass behind her and sighed. “I forgot about the window.” She gazed around the room. “Careful not to touch anything electrical,” she advised Rosie. “Okay, is everybody ready?” Samantha briskly rubbed her hands together.
“Ready,” Lugal and Rosie chorused.
“This is it, Lugal. I’m going to say the official words.” She beamed a smile at him and he nodded. “For my first official wish, I wish to own and be able to afford the upkeep of Henley House.”
She waited for Lugal to clap his hands over his arms in a genie-esque gesture or wiggle his nose or maybe blink and nod, but he simply smiled.
“When does he go into his genie act,” Rosie whispered, clearly with the same images in mind.
Samantha shrugged. “Aren’t you going to do anything, Lugal? You know, go boing, or something?”
“It is already done,” he told her. “The wish has been granted. Henley House is yours, little one.”
“That’s it? No boom or kabang or bolts of lightning or anything?” Rosie asked, sounding disappointed.
Lugal laughed. “I am not like I Dream of Jeannie or other genies of fictional tales. The wish is voiced, channeled through me and granted. The process is that simple.”
“So, you mean if we go over to Henley House right now,” Samantha asked Lugal, “I could just walk right in and nobody would question it?”
“I have no idea of the working mechanisms of the wishes, Samantha. I can only tell you that I am certain your wish was granted.”
“All we have to do is hop in the car and take a drive over there to make sure,” Rosie suggested.
“I can’t wait!” Samantha said. “Let’s go,” “We will also take your car,” Lugal said to Samantha. “Because we will be spending the night in your new home.”
“You’re that confident, huh?” Rosie asked, and Lugal gave a definite nod. “Okay, but, as much as I enjoy feasting my eyes on those aluminum foil-cuffed muscles of yours, Lugal, you might want to put on a shirt first.” She winked.
“Did you want to make your second wish before we go?” Lugal asked, heading for the bedroom to get a shirt.
“No, let’s see how this one turned out first,” Samantha said. “If it worked, then I can make wish number two from my very own nineteenth-century mansion.” The thought tickled her insides. Even though she had the greatest faith in Lugal, she couldn’t begin to fathom being the mistress of Henley House.
When Lugal returned to the room he held the large bag in his hands. It appeared to be stuffed.
“What’s that?” Samantha asked.
Lugal turned the bag around, revealing the sex shop’s logo. “Just a few things we might need,” he told her, his charming smile a flash of white.
Feeling her cheeks color as Rosie snickered away, Samantha wordlessly turned on her heels and marched toward her car. “We’ll have to call someone to board up that picture window,” she said along the way.
In less than fifteen minutes they pulled up in front of the ornate Victorian mansion. A high-end real estate company’s for sale sign was mounted in the grass.
“Wow,” Rosie said, gaping. “I forgot about how huge this place is. I can’t believe you’re actually going to be living here.”
“That makes two of us.” Her heart beating a rapid tattoo, Samantha started up the long concrete walk and stone steps, Rosie and Lugal at her heels. “Oh my God, I’m so nervous. I can’t help having this feeling that I’m going to get there and the real estate agent will take one look at me and laugh in my face when I tell her I’m the owner.”
“For all we know,” Rosie noted, “nobody’s even there. Maybe we should drive over to the real estate office instead.”
“Nope. There are cars here,” Samantha said. “I’m sure someone’s inside.” With a voluminous breath, she said, “Let’s do it,” and marched up to the front door, ringing the bell.
A chic, sophisticated, designer-label type answered. Samantha felt the effects of the woman’s icy once-over as she appraised Samantha, expecting her worst fears were about to come true.
“Yes? May I help you with something?” The model-thin woman’s gaze floated to Rosie, who got the ice treatment as well, before the woman’s eyes settled on Lugal. Heat radiated and her demeanor changed as she glimpsed the unabashedly handsome man.
And then she gasped.
“Oh good God, he has a weapon!”
Cocking her head, Samantha wondered for a moment how the woman could possible know about the size of Lugal’s lethally lusty cock. Maybe he’d forgotten to zip up the fly on his jeans. Her gaze flew to his groin and then her eyes widened as she spied the scabbard affixed to his hip.
With a roll of the eyes, she groaned. “For heaven’s sake, Lugal, I told you to leave that thing in the car.”
Lugal’s hand went to the handle of his saber. “I prefer to keep my saber at my side in the event of trouble,” he explained, addressing his comment to Samantha before giving the woman at the door a purposeful look.
The woman visibly shuddered, color draining from her face, as she uttered an unintelligible declaration of distress and slammed the door.
“Now see what you’ve done?” Rosie chastised Lugal. “Take that thing off and stow it in the car before you get us all hauled off to jail.”
“But—” Lugal began.
“Do it!” Samantha and Rosie chorused in no-nonsense tones.
“Honestly,” Rosie said with a tsk as brooding Lugal marched back to the car. “Men and their toys…”
Once Lugal had returned, frowning, weaponless and arms folded defiantly across his broad chest, Samantha rang the bell again.
“Go away or I’ll call the police,” the woman said through the door.
“It’s okay,” Samantha assured. “He took the sword off and put it in the car. Actually,” she chuckled, “it wasn’t a real sword,” she lied. “Just a toy. Lugal is…um…he’s an exotic dancer and that was just part of his costume.” She figured it was a believable fib because Lugal, with his magnificent fuck-me body, certainly did look the part of a male stripper.
The door cracked open a few inches. “Perhaps you’ve somehow mistaken Henley House for a strip club,” the woman suggested acerbically as her gaze searched below Lugal’s waist. The tip of her tongue darted out to lick her lips. “Or is he here to deliver a strip-o-gram?” Her features smoothed into the veneer of a smile. “It’s not my birthday,” she cooed, “but…”
Oh, this wasn’t going well. This wasn’t going well at all.
“No, it’s nothing like that. We’re here because I’m, um…” Samantha swallowed hard. “I’m Samantha Rutledge. The new owner of Henley House.” It was sheer murder getting those words out while the urbane woman telegraphed an expression of downright incredulity.
The door opened wide and the woman’s eyebrow shot up while her mouth pinched. “Clearly you’re mistaken,” she said, as if speaking to an imbecile. “This is Henley House.” Her shoulders straightened and chin elevated as she spoke. “I’m the agent for this property. An offer by my buyers,” she gestured toward a well-dressed middle-aged couple browsing the through the rooms, “was accepted by the Henley Foundation this morning. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
After dismissing them, she gave Lugal a final longing once-over before closing the door.
Her shoulders slumped, Samantha turned to Rosie and Lugal. “The wish didn’t work,” she said, determined not to cry.
Lugal banged his fist on the door.
“Lugal, don’t,” Samantha said, tugging him away. “She’ll only humiliate us even more. It’s okay, really.” She smoothed her hand along his back. “I love my little house—and all the special modifications you made to it,” she lied. “I don’t want you to feel bad that the wish didn’t
work.”
Lugal pounded on the door again and Samantha cringed when the real estate agent opened it, looking none too pleased.
“Is there something else?” she said, her words freezing in midair as they left her lips.
“You have made an error,” Lugal stated. “Samantha now owns Henley House.”
The woman’s expression was caustic at best. “As I’ve already explained—” She raised her finger, indicating they should wait. “Monica Sharp,” she said, looking past them. Samantha turned but saw no one there. “What do you mean? What kind of problem?” the woman said, and that’s when Samantha realized she had one of those wireless cell phone clips attached to her ear.
“What?!” The real estate agent flinched at whatever the person on the other line said, then turned to look at her clients. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said to Lugal, closing the door. This time Lugal caught it and pushed it open, following her into the house and gesturing for Samantha and Rosie to do the same.
“I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Stephenson,” the agent said to her clients. “It seems your earnest money funds failed to transfer. The purchase contract for Henley House has been voided.”
“That’s preposterous. Impossible,” Mr. Stephenson blustered. “It was done by electronic transfer this morning at my attorney’s office.”
“Monica Sh—” the agent said again, clearly answering a new call. Her face blanched. “You’re absolutely certain?” Her gaze shot to Samantha. “Positive?” She sucked in a deep breath. “All right, yes, I’ll take care of it.”
She turned toward Samantha. “What did you say your name was again?”
“Samantha Rutledge.”
The agent swallowed hard. “May I see some identification, please?”
Samantha whipped out her wallet and displayed license, credit cards and her library card.
“Your offer to purchase has been accepted by the Henley Foundation, Ms. Rutledge,” she said, looking dazed and bewildered. “Congratulations.”
Leaping nearly a foot off the floor, Rosie gasped. “Sam, you got it!”
Samantha bit her tongue to keep from giving a rowdy whoopee! while Lugal’s arm snaked around her in a congratulatory hug.
Samantha and Her Genie Page 27
