Psyche Moon (9 page)

This definitely intrigued her. “Do you still want a spider?”

“I haven’t really thought about it in a while. A pink toe would be nice – docile and not too poisonous. No pet deposit, either. You’re not afraid of spiders.”

“I’m not afraid of much in this life, but I don’t understand why you would want a pet like that.” She wanted to understand it, though. She didn’t consider them dangerous, just repulsive. Like streaking mud on the wall and calling it art.

I tried to explain, letting my adoration of these creatures ripple through my voice. “They’re fascinating animals, and so beautiful.” She didn’t believe the second part, and I tried to portray the vivid beauty they possessed. “They are one of nature’s most brilliant creations. In some ways they are perfectly adapted to survive, a pure predator, and highly resilient. Most tarantulas can go months without eating before they starve. And yet if the humidity isn’t right, they die within days.”

“Tough and vulnerable all at once.”

I couldn’t resist. “Just like you.”

Sarcasm rippled through her tone. “Romantic, being compared to a spider.”

“It’s a compliment.” I insisted.

“I’ll take your word for it.” She laughed. Rarely a giggle, if she let it out, her laughter came out full throttle.

The image of the spider as a predator spurred my next question. “You talk a lot about fighting, and you wanted to cream that guy in Louie’s. What’s that about?”

“Fighting is a recent thing for me, but I’ve gotten quite good in a short space of time. I’ve always been aggressive, but recently it’s come more to the surface.” There was more to that comment, but I didn’t push. “So I learned to fight, and I spar frequently. When a fight, or a spar, begins, the adrenaline starts pumping and the world narrows on the moment. Nothing else matters, nothing else exists. During a defeat, it’s motivating to work harder. During a victory, it’s euphoric. Either way it’s empowering. It’s not about hurting the other person. It’s about winning.” I felt a bit of what she meant as her thoughts drifted to memories, and I thought I understood. Or at least I was starting to.

“You’ve been in real fights.”

“I have. But only when it was necessary.” She didn’t want me to think of her as a violent person, and in no way had she given me that impression. Hot-tempered, yes. Violent, no.

“When is it necessary to fight?”

“To protect someone you love. To hold what you cherish if it’s being threatened. Have you ever needed to fight?” It was my turn to stiffen, my hands stopping suddenly. She turned her head and looked directly at me. “Sadie, are you okay?”

Shaking my head, I couldn’t respond for a moment. “I don’t want to ruin the moment.” Too late.

As she turned to her side I lay beside her, not touching her but pulling control from her very presence. Wounds that I thought I had buried burned bright under her question. Touching my cheek, she saw more than I wanted her to see right then.

Which wasn’t fair, because I always saw more than people wanted me to see. Still, I didn’t want to relive that – not then. “Someone hurt you.”

I closed my eyes and chose my words carefully, trying not to bring the memory to the surface. Too late – it was always too late when this happened, though it occurred rarely these days. “I had a reason to fight, but I didn’t. I’d rather not talk about it right now.” I hated how abrupt my tone sounded, but I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t ready.

Her understanding was genuine. “Okay. Whatever you want.” Embracing me lovingly, her presence quickly soothed the fear away. But not the pain.

How could I lose control so quickly around her?

I needed to feel warmth on my skin to replace the remnants of the memory. Kissing her frantically, I put her hands upon me and urged her to chase away the shadows. I’d never behaved that way with her before, needy and desperate.

Seeing the situation for what it was, she pulled away, and I didn’t understand why with my own confusion engulfing me. “You want me right now only to make the memories disappear.” Her voice gentle, she knew exactly what had happened, and that realization shamed me. Her intense gaze met my own, and I felt compassion and wisdom behind them. “That’s not the way I want it. When we make love it needs to be about us, not him.”

Guilt flared in me, and even though I knew it was unwarranted, I was unable to feel anything else. I couldn’t look at her, couldn’t let her see me like that, so I turned my back on her. She wrapped her arms around me anyway. I couldn’t explain, couldn’t say anything. She didn’t ask me to.

I didn’t understand how I could know and understand others so well and find my own thoughts so confusing. But when it all surfaced and overwhelmed me, I knew myself less well than I knew a stranger. That particular vulnerability, the absence of self-awareness, bothered me more than the memories themselves.

With all her strength, how could she respect someone so helpless? I didn’t want her to know, but she already did. God I was stupid. Why couldn’t I just control my thoughts?

Silently she soothed me until I’d regained a bit of control. Her thoughts told me how much she adored me, and that helped. It helped a lot, and I was able to push the pain down to its usual repressed level. Still, the moment had shattered for me. Billie knew this, and when she thought I was ready she spoke. “How about breakfast?”

“Sure.” I didn’t want her arms to release me, but I didn’t know what else to say. And we did need to eat at some point.

“Why don’t you shower while I cook.” I agreed.

The shower felt heavenly: hot and refreshing. Lingering, I felt the water soothe away the remnants of the broken moment. The water poured down the drain, taking the memories with it. I stepped out of the shower feeling back to normal – I’d become good at banishing the demons.

Following the smell to the kitchen, Billie stood there in a light blue silk robe that barely covered her and was thin enough that it left little to the imagination. Leaning against the doorframe, I watched her for a moment though she knew I was there without looking up. “You call that a robe?” It was somehow more exciting than her nudity, the way it enticed me to peek under it.

“Would you prefer terry cloth? I don’t own any, but that can be changed.” Her teasing purr filled me. Her eyes approved of my own attire, a simple T-shirt that hugged my body and a pair of purple lace panties.

It was a good thing I regularly kept my blinds drawn.

Spread out on my rickety table was a genuine feast. Fruit, eggs, bacon from the back of the freezer, and toast filled several plates. “I didn’t know I had that much food in the house.” She grinned.

As usual, she ate three meals worth of food, while I limited myself to eggs, toast and fruit. Everything was cooked perfectly, with spinach, onions and mushrooms in the eggs. I complimented her cooking skill after the second bite. Contentment radiated from her eyes.

Something was bothering me, and I voiced it. “We really should have had this conversation yesterday, but after Annie left I had myself tested just in case. I know she didn’t cheat on me, but … I don’t have any diseases.”

“Neither do I.” Certainty permeated her thoughts, and even without details that was all I needed.

“What do you normally do on Sundays?” I asked her.

“Spend the day in bed with some random woman.” Her serious tone was betrayed by the humor in her mind. “Hang around the house, do whatever chores have popped up, or visit with friends. If I’m not out in the mountains, anyway. How about you?”

“Sunday is my six mile day. I jog. After that I usually read.”

“I should have some sneakers in the car. I’ll join you.” That sounded delicious – I hadn’t had a jogging partner in a long time.

I couldn’t help myself. “Think you can keep up?” She laughed.

Barely winded, Billie slowed to a walk beside me, cooling down for the final stretch. “What’s your limit?” We obviously hadn’t reached it, though I’d reached mine for the day. I’d pushed it a bit and thought we’d hit six and a half miles.

“At the pace we were going?” She shrugged but didn’t elaborate. Curious, I pressed her, though she responded with bewildering caution. “I’ve done eighteen miles in one stretch.”

Amazed, I’d never known someone with that sort of athleticism. “Have you ever run a marathon?”

“No. Not really my thing. You could, though. A 10K or something?”

She’d hit one of my dreams and I didn’t even try to suppress the smile. “I’d like to. There’s one coming up soon that I’ve looked into.”

“You should do it. You’re faster than most. I bet you’d have a shot at winning. You keep up a pretty good pace.” The praise filled me as we turned onto my block. “When is it?”

“Middle of next month, but I need to enter my name soon if I’m going to do it.”

We’d reached my front door. “Your neighbor’s watching us.” I hadn’t noticed her looking around. Annoyed, she wanted to make him squirm but couldn’t think of a good way. Neither could I.

“He does that a lot.”

Her nose twitched in distaste. “Let’s not give him a show.”

We didn’t, but as soon as the door shut behind us we came together. Just us, as it was supposed to be. Intense need rose between us, and I couldn’t get her shirt off fast enough. “You’re not even sweaty.”

“You are.” She slipped my sports bra over my head efficiently, finding the exposed skin beneath it. “You smell so good, completely you.” Her teeth found a nipple and grazed it gently, making me burn in an area that she’d reconnected me with. “The way your skin glows right now, it’s intoxicating.” Her breath quickened, even though the run hadn’t fazed her.

She tried to go lower, but I guided her up. “No fair. You don’t always get to be in control.”

She grinned. “You’ve made that point once.”

Bringing her lips to mine, I kissed her deeply. Unzipping her jeans, I broke contact to lower them, greeting her breasts as they came into view, kissing the space between them briefly.

Quickly shoving her jeans as far down as I could, I didn’t dare let my face go any lower than her stomach. Yet. She kicked them off along with her shoes as I removed my own remaining attire.

Backing her towards the couch, she side-stepped the little table without looking down and allowed me to direct her. “You don’t give up control easily.” I murmured as we tumbled onto my threadbare sofa.

“Not easily, but for you … I will for you.” Her throaty voice spurred me on. Managing to have landed on top, I proceeded to pleasure her with an intensity I didn’t want to control, feeling her passion rise within her mind at every touch. Lips and hands moved and caressed everything they found, only skin between us.

“You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever known.” I breathed into her neck. “Body and mind.” Taking a breast into one hand, I felt her arousal as strongly as if it were mine. “I love feeling the way I make you feel while I’m touching you.” I took her nipple gently between my fingers. “Like that. When you like it, I like it. I’ve never felt this kind of connection with anyone before. With others it was like soft music in the background, but you pound through my mind. How do you do that?”

Her hands gripped my ass in ecstasy as she responded. “I don’t know. It’s never happened with anyone else. I’ve known other Sensitives, but I’ve never experienced this. I can almost feel you, too, and I don’t have that kind of ability.”

“You’ve spoken to me twice now, you know.”

“I know, and I don’t know how that’s possible. It shouldn’t be.”

“Talk to me.” She did, and it only increased the fire between our lovemaking.

Chapter 4

Night had fallen, and we dressed reluctantly. But a walk under the stars sounded heavenly, and we wanted to experience it together. Besides, we had to get dressed at some point.

In the summer, the sun sets late in Idaho. We left the house anyway, with no concerns. Crime in my area was minimal, and it didn’t even occur to me to worry with Billie at my side. The power she radiated still took my breath away. She did it naturally and without conscious thought. It was simply a part of her, and I was beginning to understand that.

Taking her hand, we strolled between the houses, some dark but most still lit with the activity inside. A slight wind drifted through our hair, and the sky was nearly clear. The only clouds visible were of the type that can, but usually don’t, drop rain. Talking about everything and nothing, we simply enjoyed the night.

“Do you practice any faith?” I asked her at one point.

“Not really. I believe in God but that’s about it. I believe there’s a purpose behind all of this, but I like to think I’m living my own life. You?”

“Agnostic, I guess. It was too important to shed what my parents shoved down my throat to adhere to anything.”

“They’re not all that way, I’ve found. Christians.”

“Oh, I know. Lisa’s parents were Christian, and they loved her deeply. Being a lesbian didn’t change that for them, and they opened their home to me. They barely knew me; they just knew I needed help and they were glad to give it. They went to church every Sunday and talked about it a lot, but they never pushed it on me. I think they knew I needed my space, and I got to see that they aren’t all like my parents. Maybe not even most of them.”

She could hear the residue of the pain in my voice, and I wondered if it would ever go away completely. She nodded, understanding, and we walked in silence a bit. “Their rejection hurt me so much, and it took a long time to get where I am now. I wonder sometimes whether it was easier or harder that I was adopted. Would it have hurt worse if they were my own blood?”

“I’m no Sensitive. I can only imagine what that felt like. Other than random idiots like that guy in Idaho City, I’ve only rarely experienced that kind of overt homophobia. And never from someone I loved. I’ve been very fortunate.”

“Since my parents, I haven’t let myself get close to someone who might do that again.” The admission came from a place deep within that I’d never shared with another.

Sounds lonely.

“I have been lonely, but not for that reason. I try very hard to act normal, but as I become comfortable around someone, I tend to slip. It’s hard on relationships, and not just romantic ones.”