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Her eyes filled with tears that spilled on Lugal’s chest. He lifted his head to look down at her, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “Why do you cry?” How could Samantha find the words to explain how her heart was breaking for him? For the eons of inhumane treatment he’d suffered at the hands of callous, unfeeling ingrates? Lord knows she couldn’t tell him that after knowing him for just a few hours, she had this crazy notion bounding around inside her head and heart, insisting she was falling in love with him. She’d scare her poor genie right back into his bottle if he had any inkling she was thinking along such needy, clingy lines. “I just think it stinks, that’s all,” she said “It smells like ass?” Lugal asked, a teasing gleam in his eye and a devilish grin across his sensuous lips. Samantha smiled, surprised to hear him making a joke when what he’d just shared with her must be so painful. “Exactly. It smells like ass.” With a wicked expression, Lugal reached down and pinched her butt. “Before we part ways, Samantha, I will fuck that beautiful alabaster ass of yours.” 86 Samantha and Her Genie Chapter Eight “I can’t believe we forgot to use this last night.” Samantha tossed out the warm can of whipped cream. Lugal stood behind her, nibbling on her nape as she selected a pair of mugs from the cabinet. After hours of sensational lovemaking, this was a hell of a nice way to start the day. “The natural flavor of your skin and your secret places was delicious enough. The adornment of sweet white ruffles was not needed.” After licking the outer shell of her ear, Lugal sniffed the air as the coffeemaker hissed. “I like this aroma.” “The coffee will be ready in a couple of minutes. I can’t believe you’ve never tasted it. Didn’t Abigail drink coffee?” “Nay. She and Owen were from England. She said the English prefer tea. I grew to enjoy the taste with abundant cream and sugar.” “All I have in the house is artificial sweetener and a carton of nonfat milk. But we’ll grab another mug while we’re out shopping. You can load it up with cream and sugar.” She eyed Lugal and smiled, mindful not to give in to a rising giggle. Samantha figured the few remnants of fat clothes she’d saved would come in handy one day. The powder blue sweatshirt adorned with huge pink cabbage rose appliqués and the stretch-denim jeans with the elastic waist weren’t exactly ideal adornment for a pillar of simmering testosterone. But it was either that or her splashy orange floral mumu. She’d donated her favorite fat clothes to charity. The few she kept were examples of this-is-what-you’ll-look-like-if-you-ever-get-fat-again outfits she kept in the back of her closet as hideous reminders of her highest weight. God, she never wanted to be forced to wear frumpy clothes like those again. The sleeves of her sweatshirt came up to Lugal’s elbows. The legs of the plus-sized jeans hugged just below his knees. Poor Lugal looked like a gargantuan drag queen gone terribly wrong. But she couldn’t take him out of the house wearing his genie garb. It would attract too much attention. Of course, a barbarian embellished with cabbage roses wouldn’t exactly blend in either. Samantha glanced at his big feet overhanging her flip-flops and winced. He came out of his bottle barefoot. The man needed some sort of shoes. Since she didn’t have any gunboats handy, these would offer at least a little protection. Once they got to the mall she’d just have to get him into some manly clothes and shoes pronto, that’s all. Appraising his imposing stature again, she bit her lip, wondering if the average men’s store carried triple-tall, extra-buff sizes. 87 Daisy Dexter Dobbs The bell on her coffeemaker dinged, capturing Samantha’s attention. “I’ll start you off with it black to see if you like it that way first.” She poured a cup for him and one for herself, doctoring hers with milk and sweetener. Lugal sipped and winced. “It does not taste as good as it smells.” “Here,” she ripped open a packet of sweetener, tossing in the powder, “try it now.” He sipped, making a face like a kid eating strained spinach. “This is worse yet.” Samantha added a splash of nonfat milk, gesturing for him to sample again. A leery look on his face, he sipped. Clearly the milk hadn’t helped matters any. “I am sorry, Samantha. I cannot ingest this strange, bitter liquid.” “No problem. See what you think about the cereal. It’s made by Tuned by Turner, the company I work for.” The high fiber, low-fat, sugar-free, whole-grain Yummy Nuggets with clusters of flax and bran was one of the few foods TBT offered that Samantha found halfway palatable. She poured a stream of thin, fat-purged milk into the small bowl, sprinkled sweetener on top and stirred. Lugal outright shuddered at the taste. From the skewed look on his face, she thought he might spit the mouthful back into the bowl. But his table manners were far more refined. Managing to swallow with another small shudder, he took the box from the table, studying the images of lip-licking people happily hiking spoonfuls of cereal to their mouths. “With all this amazing technology you have, Samantha, why do the people of your time choose to ingest twigs, chaff and wood shavings for their morning repast?” Samantha laughed at that. “It does seem that way, doesn’t it?” “Truly, I do not mean to be ungrateful for the sustenance you provide, but…” “You don’t need to say another word.” She cleared the table. “After we get you something to wear I’ll take you out for a nice lunch.” She grabbed her purse and keys. Lugal grabbed his saber, affixing it to his hip. “Uh…no, that won’t work, Lugal. The saber stays here. Strolling around with weapons strapped to the waist is definitely frowned upon in Portland.” He looked at her aghast. “You cannot mean it, Samantha. A warrior without his weapon is but a target inviting slaughter. How will I protect you should the need arise?” [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |