Sensitive by Sommer Marsden Read Free Book Online

laughed. “Yeah, I bet you’re right.” The building was swirling with a dark halo of shadows.
    Although invisible for most folks, I could see the dark stain of bad psychic energy floating around the hospice like storm clouds. “How about you, Walter?” I asked.

    When I turned Walter was gone. I sensed he’d hurried up to see about his wife. I turned to Alex, biting my lip with anxiety. “I have to tell you, I’m scared shitless,” I said. My intuition had not hit fever pitch yet. There was still time for me to collect myself and for that I was grateful. Hell, maybe we’d go in there and Walter would be wrong. Judging by the energy around the building, that was doubtful, but a girl can hope. “I’m really, really scared,” I said again.

    He looked shocked and then concerned. Alex, newly humanized angel, ran his hand through his hair so it stood in dark spikes and horns. I smoothed one down, rubbing his hair like a worry bead. “You are scared? You don’t strike me as the scared type.” He took my hand and kissed it gently. My pussy loosed a small trickle of juices.

    God, whenever he touched me I wanted him so, so, bad. It scrambled my brains, the way his skin felt touching mine.

    “I’m used to small potatoes. A ghost here, a spirit there, a family freaked out by a residual haunt. Most people don’t know I’m sensitive but family and the dead. I keep it close to my vest. I don’t mind helping, but I don’t bang my psychic drum and put my

    ‘open for business’ sign out. I freelance computer work, teach a class here and there, write technical stuff. I have a small account from my father’s death when I was young and I have no interest in…”

    He was holding both my hands in his and the heat of him made me feel like it was June instead of November. I felt like I should have warm sand between my toes and sun in my hair. “In?”

    “In being Harper Brown psychic detective. Or medium for hire. Or any of that.” I let my body take over for a minute so my lips were drawn to his like I had magnets hidden in my teeth. Alex kissed me back, pulling me to him across the hideous burgundy bench seat of my ancient Chevy Malibu. Gotta love the bench seat.

    “I understand. It’s not your destiny, if that makes sense.”

    “Do you know my destiny?” I asked, putting my hand in his lap. Trying to be ladylike and failing.
    Instead of being demure, I rubbed my palm up and down his cock, feeling it harden even more under my touch. I loved to feel the excitement of a man grow when I touched him. It was a heady feeling steeped in power and lust and a lot of affection for this particular man, already.

    “No. I only know what it’s not. And when I focus on you, that is not what I feel.”

    “What do you sense?” I know what I felt, and I continued to feel it, pulling at his buttons, amazed that already I was ready to have him in my body again. To take him deep and let him be in me and love me all over again. Just fast this time, because there was work to be done. Sadly. The urge to be with him was truly overwhelming, and I didn’t question it. I knew that emotions and impressions and appetites ran high when I was surrounded with this kind of energy. I knew I wanted sex like air but could abstain.

    And I also knew that for some reason, with angelic Alex Church, I felt unable to abstain.

    “I feel in you an overwhelming, staggering, drowning need to be happy,” he said and pushed his palms along my skin, my sweater surging up over his hands as he slipped them under the fabric and along the heated length of my torso. His fingers found my nipples and he pulled my bra down to free them, only to pluck them into eager peaks that sent blips of pleasure from breast to cunt. An invisible tug of desire that ran through the whole of me and made my throat feel ticklish and small and my pussy feel hot and needy.

    I pushed him back and climbed onto his lap, facing him, spreading my legs. I was boldly