Maggie put on the headphones and switched the channel on television number three. It was some kind of talk show about the president’s stimulus package. Maybe. She wasn’t sure. Actually, she couldn’t tell.
The camera was focused on the Italian-looking man from her dream with his dark bedroom eyes. Eye candy was better than no candy. His looks definitely appealed to her, but even that wasn’t quite enough to whisk her away from the grim reality of her submissive gym space.
As she trudged along, she made every attempt to give him her undivided attention. The exceedingly handsome Antonio Banderas-type actor hadn’t yet said a word, but he had her number.
He turned to face the camera and smiled. “Welcome.” He had a soft, deep voice and an accent. Italian, perhaps. Nice.
She raised an eyebrow with interest as the camera panned out, showing his tall, lean body in faded Levis and a blue button-down shirt. Why the heck does the caption at the bottom of the screen say “stimulus package” and here the camera is all but giving viewers a close up of this guy’s crotch? Well, damn…if he’s gonna screw the country back to life, more power to him. She glanced at the timer. Four minutes to go.
“Welcome,” he said again. “I am happy to be here with you today, Maggie Abbot.”
It took a moment to register. The guy on the TV had spoken to her. Unless there was another Maggie Abbott in the studio audience.
He smiled through the TV screen. “No, Maggie…I’m talking to you. There is no studio audience.”
“Me?” she almost squeaked.
“Yes, you.”
Maggie’s finger lingered over the “stop” button. Obviously, eight minutes on a treadmill was enough for her to be at risk for a stroke. This was not an endorphin high. This was a hallucination.
“No. Don’t turn the treadmill off. It needs to be running. And you don’t need to worry about someone overhearing us. Maggie…I’ve got something for you.” Mr. Perfect smiled.
My stimulus package? Heavy psychotropic medication? “Who are you?”
“I’m Adanto.”
“Where are you? Is there a closed-circuit TV in this facility?” This was getting weird.
“No, bella. I’m pretty much right under your feet. I’m using the TV to communicate in a way you’ll understand. For now. I have other methods of communication we’ll utilize later.” He really was beautiful. “But I digress. Ask the burning question, Maggie.”
She whispered, “What do you have for me?”
Adanto smiled. “The greatest tool ever developed to help a person keep to their diet and exercise routine.” He clicked his tongue and raised his eyebrows a couple of times. “Of course, bella, you look very good the way you are. I know it is for your health alone you must diet. I can inspire you. Stimulate you.”
“Right. I’m not paying for anything else. This place is the only gym in town, or I’d have gone somewhere less expensive.”
“Maggie, what I offer to you is free.”
“I’m confused.” Her voice was barely a whisper. What if someone heard her talking to the TV? “Are you on the next floor down? How are you under my feet? Why do you need to use a TV to communicate? Why are you talking to me? Wouldn’t one of the Bambi clones be more your speed?”
“No, bella, I like you.”
“Free, huh?” Maggie confirmed.
“Yes.”
“What must I do to accept your offer?” Free was too good to be true.
“Nothing, really. I am at your disposal.”
“Well, then inspire me, Adanto. Either that or send in the guys with the white coats to take me away.”
Maggie bit her lip as she waited for the Punk’d crew to jump from behind pillars or closed doors. No one popped out with balloons or video equipment.
Five more minutes on the treadmill wasn’t going to kill her. Though her legs felt like rubber and her shoulders lead weights, she pushed through the discomfort. Five minutes. Five minutes to find out whatever the heck was going on. And why were the other intrepid gym-goers not visiting with their own black-eyed Adanto? Because it’s a hallucination, that’s why. I’m throwing a clot. God, I hope they know how to work that portable defibrillator machine I saw in the office.
The sweat of exercise seemed to steam against her skin as a knot of anticipation grew in her belly. The knot loosened and sent tendrils out to her fingertips and toes. It settled between her legs in her female regions. The sensation brought a memory to mind—last night’s dream.
In living color.
It seemed as though she relived the highlights—an instant playback of orgasmic proportions. His fingers inside her. The deep kisses. The way he referred to his penis as his member. Yeah…dream guy had something to re-member, all right.
“I want to kiss your vagina,” was whispered into her ear. Oh, my God. This is really happening. This isn’t a dream or a flashback. This is real. I’m going to come.
She exploded with his mouth on her clit and two fingers deep inside her. The tickle of his tongue flicking against her grew in dimension until it seemed the bright center of the universe thrived between her legs. While walking the treadmill. In public.
Maggie was both flustered and restless. The warm sensation meandering up her legs, caressing her feet and calves, was far more stimulating than the fingers of a skilled masseur. It spread across her arms. Strong hands smoothing over her flesh.
The four points of heat converged and spread across her breasts, throat, cheeks, and the juncture of her thighs. The movement of her legs rubbing together as she padded along on the treadmill added sensual bliss to the moment. She didn’t stop walking. Though her legs weakened, and she thought for a moment they might buckle, she kept upright, gripping the hand rests.
She quivered in a magnificent body giggle from head to toes. Her knuckles went white and her eyes rolled back into her head. It was the most euphoric experience she had ever experienced.
Adanto whispered to her, “Best five minutes you ever spent on a treadmill, right?”
Maggie shook off the shivers running up and down her arms. “What did you say?”
The camera panned in on his lips. “Best five minutes you ever spent on a treadmill, right?”
Maggie jumped to the sides and turned the power off. “Did I just have an endorphin high? No wonder people became addicted to exercise.”
“You had an orgasm. And from the way your body quaked, I’d say it was a good one. Just think…every time you work out, you’ll come. Every day you force yourself away from your desk for a few minutes to walk or stretch, you’ll come as soon as your head hits the pillow. Every time you make a good food choice instead of a poor one…”
Maggie completed the sentence. “I’ll come?”
Adanto laughed. “No, you get closer to achieving a healthy weight and cholesterol levels.”
“Is this for real?”
“Come back tomorrow morning and give it a second try.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Adanto.”
Maggie hadn’t stepped off the treadmill yet. “Am I crazy?”
Adanto winked. “No, Mags. I’m a Djinn. A jinni.”
“Of a treadmill? I’ve never heard of a jinni in a treadmill before.”
“We can’t all have fancy bottles or brass lanterns.” He gave her a small smile.
Maggie took one foot off the treadmill.
“If you step off the treadmill, I go back into hiding.”
Maggie set her foot back on the platform. “Only this treadmill?”
The camera panned out on his lovely face. “Hold that thought, Maggie. I’ll see you later.”
Chapter Three
Maggie grabbed her keys from the counter. She was hot, sweaty, and fighting the loopiness of an ecstatic afterglow she hadn’t experienced in some time. That was about the best fuck I’ve ever had, and I was alone. Christ, I am going crazy. Jinni in the treadmill, my ass.
She zoned out on the way home, steering mechanically, hoping the car r
emembered the route. This had been way too stimulating a morning for her to be behind the wheel of a two-ton vehicle. Jeez…if I took a breathalyzer now, I’d be in trouble. I am steeped and saturated with the fermentation of sex.
At her place, Maggie stripped and showered. Still wrapped in a towel, she flipped open her laptop. Google knows everything. If there’s an X-rated inspirational gym program that feeds pheromones to club members to entice them to return more often, it will be listed.
There were no authoritative links for “jinni in the treadmill.” Nor were there any subliminal products listed for enticing fat women to walk.
Her marmalade cat, Teague, jumped up onto the computer desk. Maggie reached out to stroke the large purring beastie. Teague arched her back in response to the touch. “I’m going crazy, cat.”
The Google search still open, one of the images of a treadmill flashed as if the screen had refreshed itself. It was the same as the deluxe model the gym carried. Maggie clicked on the photo.
Adanto’s voice sang out from her computer speakers. “You’re not crazy, Maggie. You have the rare opportunity to have the service of a Djinn. I am the real deal.”
“Am I being Punk’d?”
He laughed. “No. This is real. That’s a TV show.”
“All righty then. What’s with the treadmill? Why not a shower curtain or oyster knife?”
“I’m not that kind of jinni.”
Maggie watched the flickering image of the treadmill. “Show yourself. Or do I need to say I wish?”
“Ah…je souhaite. The most beautiful words to the Djinn race.” Adanto’s handsome form appeared on the screen against a smoky background. “But please don’t. You don’t need to wish. I’m here for you because we belong together.”
“Since I’m reserving judgment for the moment, and living on the edge of the land of disbelief, may I ask further questions?”
He waved his arms and sculpted an easy chair out of the smoke. He sat and nonchalantly crossed his legs. “Fire away, Maggie.”
“Do I get three wishes? What class of Djinn are you?”
“You could, but I can offer you way better than three wishes. There are several Djinn societies. I am a Sila—the traditional servants of humankind.”
“How were you activated? I didn’t rub anything.” She wanted him to serve her.
“Your need activated me. Called me to action.”
Maggie pulled her towel up over her cleavage. “I need to get dressed before we continue this conversation.”
“Don’t on my account. You’re beautiful. The other Mechanical Djinns have always been envious of me, let me tell you.”
Maggie held her towel tightly across her breasts. “Mechanical Djinns?”
“Yes. We inhabit electrical and non-electrical devices. All kind of things from antique guillotines to the booster rockets of the space shuttle. I was activated when a drop of your sweat kissed the pavement as you walked a great distance to where your vehicle was parked on a Saturday at the mall. I tasted your need and desires. I knew it was time to make my appearance in your life. However, if I may be truthful, I’ve been around you for a while.”
“Why didn’t you show up when Bambi trained me on the equipment? I sweated then too.”
“Timing is everything.”
“So, what’s next?” Because she was ready for more.
“You exercise. I make love to you. You achieve your goals, and I achieve mine.”
Maggie tapped her finger against the right click button of her mouse. “What are your goals?”
Adanto’s striking eyes widened. “You care about my goals?”
“Of course I do. You fulfill my wishes or goals, and in return, I set you free to pursue your own. Isn’t that how it works? That’s how it works in the movies.” Didn’t Djinns watch movies?
“I’m not imprisoned, per se. And I don’t want you to free me.”
“Good thing you don’t live in my vibrator.”
“You’d never get on the treadmill if I lived in your vibrator full-time—and that is primary to our goals.”
“These are our goals?”
“I am an individual, of course, and have personal goals, but my advent is to see you achieve yours. Your goals are my goals too. I’m here to make exercise enjoyable and desirable.”
“You gave me a freakin’ orgasm, Adanto.”
He laughed. “Yes. Yes, I did. And there’s a lot more of that waiting for you.”
“When I exercise.”
He nodded.
“But I could just command you to hop out of the ethers and do me, right?” Because she was down with that.
“You could. But that would not serve our purpose. You need to use the treadmill to achieve good health, and I need to see you do just that.”
Maggie laughed. “You’re my personal trainer.”
“I am. And you are my breathmate.”
“I can’t have three wishes?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “I’ve kind of thought about this before—I know the wording is everything when making a wish.”
“This is true.”
“So I need to think more about that. I don’t want to somehow end up with solid gold internal organs or something. That could happen, right?”
Adanto nodded. “It could. Wishes are tricky.”
“Hmm. But you can answer questions, right?”
“Truthfully, yes.”
“What’s a breathmate?”
“If I may delay responding to that question for a bit, I promise you’ll learn all there is to know about that topic soon. Trust me.”
Yeah, right. “I have no reason not to trust you. I kind of like delayed gratification, anyway. So, what do we do now?”
“Have a pleasant evening, mi aria. I’ll see you soon.”
“You’re leaving?”
It was too late. Adanto had disappeared.
Chapter Four
She slept like a rock and awakened early and refreshed. In her adult life, she couldn’t remember a time she’d climbed out of bed with a smile on her face. So what if her ankles were tender, her calves were mooing, her hips ached, and her privates felt raw and well-loved. She had all-day access to her computer at work.
It made being a desk jockey suddenly more appealing than it had been the day before. If she were crazy, so what the fuck? It was kind of cool having an Italian hottie all to herself in cubical land. After logging on at work, she Googled a photo of Adanto’s treadmill and posted it on her desktop.
“If men in white coats come to take me away, I’m blaming it on you, you know,” Maggie whispered as Adanto’s smiling face appeared on her computer screen like the annoying “help” dog or cat—only in a much more appealing manner.
“You’re the sane one, Maggie.”
“How are you able to do this?”
“Do what?” Adanto teased.
Maggie leaned toward her monitor and dropped her voice to a whisper. “You live in the molecules of a television or computer transmission? Deus ex machina, yes?”
“I live in the same air space as you, just differently. Incidentally, you need to eat at your desk and go to the gym on your lunch break.” He smiled slyly.
“Oh really?” Maggie wiggled her eyebrows.
“I need you.”
“To walk?”
Adanto nodded. “Yes. To walk. Definitely. I am your personal trainer, after all.”
“What else do you need me for?”
“Touch your fingertips to the monitor for a moment and I’ll show you.”
“You’re not supposed to touch LED screens.”
Adanto winked. “Just do it.”
Maggie brought her right index finger to the lower edge of her computer monitor. Before she could draw breath, a warming sensation coursed up her nailbed to her knuckles. Her palm tingled as if resting against a Magic Fingers bed. It moved up her forearm to her elbow.
It caught her funny bone.
She giggled and pulled her hand away. “You are
a naughty, naughty little jinni and…”
“You’ve been waiting for me all your life. Go head…admit it,” Adanto teased.
“I’m going to work now, Adanto. See you at eleven thirty at the gym?”
“Nothing—and I mean nothing—could stop me from being with you, Maggie.”
She had something to look forward to. She was giddy with excitement over the prospect of it. Maggie found it difficult to sit still. Her knees bounced, her foot tapped, her mind wandered. The treadmill at lunch instead of a soggy salad or over-priced sandwich. Who knew exercise could be so inviting? Who knew going nuts could be so much fun?
She opened a yogurt and ate it slowly at her desk. The creamy texture and fruitiness hit her tongue with a satisfaction she’d never had before in a dairy product. She looked at the label. What was different? Greek-style whole milk fig yogurt sweetened with Stevia. About as non-chemical shitstorm as she could get. She’d eaten it a hundred times before. This time, however…wow. The sensation. The texture…even the way it smelled…was fabulous.
Even the tap water she’d filled her bottle with tasted better.
And the doughnuts in the staffroom with their seductive siren’s song of fat and sugar didn’t sway her in the least.
Her new diet was a wonderful way of life, not just a tedious act of boredom.
A morning of invoices and sales reports flew by. Phone calls from confused reps and irritated distributors seemed like a social gathering. It was a great morning.
Then it was time for lunch. And Adanto.
The gym was a ten-minute walk from her office.
Ten minutes there, five to change, twenty minutes on the treadmill…she had to get the timing just right to make it back to work on time.
She glanced in the storefront windows as she hurried through the lunchtime crowd filling the streets on the prowl for hotdog carts and gyro stands.
The pleasant, spicy odor of frankfurters assaulted her nostrils as she strolled by the hot dog cart. Yeah…give me two with the works. Chicago-style.
Maggie smiled politely as she passed the vendor, whose look of astonishment told her that her passing by his cart was a new experience for him too.
Claimed by the Djinn Page 3
