Free Psyche Moon by Chrissie Buhr

understand.” Knowing I meant my promise, she released me and we climbed into the jeep.
    Grey light fell as we pulled onto my street. My previously empty house felt inviting again as I imagined sharing it, even part of the time, with Billie. Fantasies of waking up next to her warmed me in a way that I hadn’t felt in a very long time. And never this intensely.
    “Okay if I come in?” She teased me.
    “You better.” I let her trail me to my door, not glancing back and knowing she followed. Her intensity overwhelmed me as she watched my form in front of her. It enveloped me, consumed my whole being, this desire that was both mental and sexual. To her I was a drug, and she was hooked after only twenty-four hours.
    For me it was more earthen. I felt like I’d found something I never knew I’d missed, and she filled that void. We weren’t two halves of a whole, like some people say, but rather together we were more than either one of us apart. We complimented each other.
    Kissing the back of my neck as I tried to work the lock, I had a little trouble. My words came husky from my throat, but I didn’t turn. “If you’d like to make love on the front porch, keep going. But my neighbor is a voyeur. If you want to actually get in the house …well, this distraction is not helping.”
    Silently she took my keys from my hands and unlocked the door, reaching around my body but not even pausing in her adoration of my neck. “I’d rather not give a performance, but I’m not sure I can quit.”
    Once in the house with the door closed, I turned to face her, and she took my head in both hands, my gaze raised a bit to meet hers. “I could use a shower.”
    That sounded like a great venue to me, too. And it guaranteed a lack of clothes, though I doubted they’d stay on much longer either way. She grabbed a bag that I didn’t know she’d brought in and followed me down the hall.
    I started the shower while she added her toiletries to mine, which excited me more than even her presence. It was a not-so-subtle reminder that she was here to stay. Somehow she knew that I liked it and she didn’t need to ask permission – I still didn’t know how she could possibly read me so well if she wasn’t a Sensitive.
    “Sensitive.” I hadn’t had much time to think about the term, but I decided I liked it. Always reluctant to be grouped with psychics, I turned the new word over in my mind. It was descriptive, even if it was incomplete. Certainly sensitive to those around me, I nevertheless could do so much more. But I’d admitted to very little of that fact, and I was determined to keep it that way. Besides, it’s not like I was using the rest of my abilities.
    What I’d said about the waitress, that I wished I could see more, was true. Even though I could have found out more about her situation, I couldn’t let myself actually do it. I’d learned my lesson on that one, and I didn’t dare cross that line again. It was one of those situations when “couldn’t” and “wouldn’t” were the same thing.
    Feeling her lips on my neck again, I decided I liked her at my back. Undressing me gently, all the way down to my boots, I could feel my body respond, ready and eager.
    I wanted to touch her, but she wanted me where I was, and I let her call the shots, even without saying the words. Especially without the words. “You have a mole on your shoulder.” She kissed it and ran her tongue over it.
    “I have several.”
    “I know. I think I’ve found them all now.” Her arms reached around and her hands caressed my belly. Tilting my head back onto her shoulder, I allowed her to just touch me with nothing in return. Yet. “How much hot water do you have?”
    “Not enough.”
    Stripping out of her clothes in an instant, we stepped into the aging tub. Still she wanted my back, and her thoughts told me why. She wanted to explore my body without being consumed by my eyes. And explore she did, with the water falling over both of us,