Psyche Moon Read Online Free Page A

left thumb grazed her right breast and I could feel her arousal in mind and body. I couldn’t wait to get her shirt off.
    “Are you sure you want to go out?” I was sure I wanted to spend the day with her in my bed. Or on my couch, or anywhere for that matter. I didn’t care, so long as I could feel her skin against mine.
    She released me slowly, though not reluctantly. “Absolutely. Let’s go.” She had something in mind. I decided to be a good girl and not peek.
    In front of my modest home, her pristine black jeep stood out, and I got the sudden impression that she had money. Not that I should have thought otherwise – last night’s outfit had to have cost a fair amount. But this morning she was simple and casual. I hopped into the passenger seat and snuggled into the comfort. The first thing I noticed inside was the lack of radio or CD player. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a car without a radio unless it had been stolen.”
    She glanced at me and I felt the amusement behind the sparkling green eyes even before I saw the grin. “I don’t like music much. It’s great to dance to, but I never listen to it outside the bars. I like to hear the world, not drown it out. I gave the radio to my sister.”
    I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but it didn’t seem to need a response, so I just buckled up and we took off. I realized then that I’d naturally connected with her when she appeared on my doorstep. It was more than just sensing her thoughts. This was new, instinctive, and automatic. One of several new experiences since I met her.
    “The weather should be perfect today. Slight wind, warm, but not too hot. Perfect hiking weather.”
    I hadn’t had the chance to check the weather, and that was good news. “Great. God, I haven’t been out of Boise for months. I’m glad we’re doing this.”
    “If I don’t get out at least once a week, I start going mad.” Her tone was completely serious, and I wasn’t sure what to make of her comment.
    “What’s your favorite spot?”
    She grinned slightly, hearing a double entendre in the innocent question. “I don’t have one. I pick a new route every time. There’s too much to see before seeing one place twice.” I conceded the sense in that on both levels. “I thought we’d go a little beyond Idaho City and find a turnoff.”
    “Sounds good to me. I usually head toward Mountain Home and up from there, but I’ve hiked near Lowman a few times, too. Nice hot springs in that area.” I enjoyed the thought that came to mind: Billie and I naked in a natural pool.
    “I scouted above Mountain Home after I first got here. I didn’t like it – too many ranchers, and too many guns. I haven’t found any of the more private hot springs yet. Do you know any?”
    Pleased that she had the same thought as me, I replied. “Yes. I know a great one. You have to hike five or six miles to reach it. The trail isn’t much more than a deer trail, and if you don’t know where you’re going, you might not find it. Not many people try. You’re likely to be alone there. About twelve years ago a bunch of kids got drunk and went skinny dipping in the middle of the winter. Almost froze to death. It was quite a scandal. Made the papers and everything.”
    “Have you been there?”
    “Once. I was one of the kids, the only one who didn’t lose a finger or toe.” I grinned at her wickedly, and she laughed.
    The view on Highway 21 was spectacular. We headed into the rising sun, generally speaking, and crisp summer air bathed us through the open windows. She pointed out landmarks and gave them names I didn’t know and stories I’d never heard. She clearly loved these mountains, sounding like a cross between a historian and a proud mother. Her intimate fascination with the land we passed was contagious, and I found myself asking many questions and sharing my own stories.
    She pointed over a far ridge to the north. “Up that way a few weeks ago I saw a moose – my first.