Chapter 12

Anissa stood still, staring, even after David had closed the door behind him and she heard his footsteps on the stairs. What an unusual man, this new master of hers. She leaned her head against the cool tile of the wall and willed her body to stop throbbing with this uncomfortable desire.

She did not want to like him. One thing her centuries of servitude had taught her was that even the kindest of people turned selfish once they realized the magnitude of what Anissa had to offer. Extended life, limitless wealth, almost anything the mind could conceive of was within the power of the Djinni's box. Most of her male masters had been selfish in bed, as well. She had learned to take some pleasure from coupling with a few of them, but she had never felt desire for its own sake before meeting this one. What kind of magic was afoot, to make her body turn traitor and hunger for the touch of a master?

She looked around the luxurious bathroom, trying to reconcile it with the Spartan furnishings she had seen in the bedroom and kitchen. Did this new master need money or did he not? He had not hesitated to share so much food. His home and person were scrupulously clean but his hair had not seen scissors nor his beard a razor in months. He was obviously attracted to her but he was camping on his parlor sofa so she could have his bed. Nothing about the man made sense.

She studied the shining silver taps of the tub. Very simple. H for hot water, C for cold. She remembered the professor's instructions and let the hot water tap run while she selected a towel and found a bar of soap in the shower area. Then she paused to study that arrangement. A cascading bath system. How ingenious. But it would never replace the luxury of a good hot soak.

There was a bottle in the shower as well and she read the label. Apparently shampoo was a special liquid soap for the hair. The bright green substance smelled of fresh herbs and grasses, so Anissa added a few drops to the running water in the bathtub and was delighted when a cloud of freshly scented bubbles arose. She shed her garments and slipped into the deliciously hot water, deciding that she liked the twenty-first century so far. When she discovered the pulsing jets of water that massaged her back and legs, she liked it even more. Finally, she spread her legs and angled her body so that the force of the water reached the aching cleft between her thighs. Oh yes.

She imagined her new master David, imagined it was him caressing her as he had in her visions. Or perhaps his tongue, stroking her points of pleasure. It took mere moments before she convulsed with waves of rapture and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. A single tear escaped her eye as she dropped her hand back into the bath at her side. Even now, after bringing herself to completion, her body clamored with emptiness, a longing to be filled by him and him alone. Nothing had ever been like this before, not in eight hundred years. Whatever was a Djinni to do?

Dave lay in his sleeping bag on the fold-out bed that was part of his sectional sofa and listened as the water ran and then stopped. There was a sharp squeal followed by a giggle when the whirlpool jets turned on. Apparently the little Djinni really was capable of managing a bathtub. Picturing her there wet and naked was flat out painful. He had seen every inch of her in his dreams and he couldn't help wanting to see how the real Anissa measured up. She was every bit as beautiful in the flesh, way out of the league of a geek like him but goddess, how was he supposed to resist her when she was here in his house and she didn't seem interested in resisting him?

Part of him still wanted to believe he was dreaming. No way in hell could he have opened a box and had a magical being pop out. Let alone a magical being he'd been dreaming about on and off since August. He'd probably had too many beers and was in the middle of an alcohol-induced dream.

But if this was another dream, why was he on the couch? For the last week, his dreams of Anissa had been progressively more erotic, to the point where most days he'd had to wash his sheets after he woke up. He'd had more wet dreams in the last week than he'd had since he was seventeen. And yet here he sat, as hard as a rock and with his balls aching like he'd been smacked with a practice sword. If this was a dream, he really didn't like this new twist.

A year ago, he would have flat out refused to believe any of this. Back then, he didn't even truly believe in Jenna's visions, though he'd always tried to humor her. After meeting Drake last spring though, all bets were off when it came to the supernatural. Something about making friends with a fire-breathing, centuries old dragon had sort of changed his views.

And if dragons were real, why not a Djinni?

His brain was whirling around in circles. He knew he wasn't going to make any sense of it tonight. Once upon a time he'd have called Eric, even though it was midnight and dragged his butt over here to help sort it out. Now Eric was probably sound asleep next to his very pregnant wife and no way was Dave going to disturb them for anything short of a life-threatening emergency.

He could call Jenna, he supposed but he didn't want to worry her, either. No, he'd sort it out himself. In the morning. Meanwhile he had to do something if he had any hope of getting to sleep. And climbing up the stairs to fuck Anissa senseless wasn't going to be it, so it was time to cope. He lay there in silence until sleep came, just before dawn.