She caught what he had in mind and tried to do what he’d suggested before.
And suddenly, just as the last of the soap was washed away, the water went off, leaving them standing in the shower, dripping.
You did that.
Yeah. And now I get my reward.
Leaning back against the side of the shower, he lifted her into his arms. She cried out as he filled her, holding her against himself as he turned on the water again with his mind sothat it pounded down on them once more. His movement was restricted by his braced hips. But as he held her, she moved her body, the friction taking them to a high peak where the air was almost too thin to breathe.
She loved the intensity on his face—in his mind—as she quickened the pace.
His exclamation made her raise her head as she stared at the water pouring down on them. She had stopped thinking about the water, but now it was pulsing in time to the movements of her body.
She was the one with the freedom of movement, and she drove them to a sharp, all-encompassing climax that radiated to every part of her body while the shower seemed to explode in a cascade of water.
She felt Craig follow her into ecstasy, and as they came back to themselves, the shower settled down to a normal flow.
She heard Craig’s silent laugh.That last part was . . .
Unexpected,she finished as she collapsed against him and he lowered her to her feet.
Proof we can do more with our minds than we thought.
I don’t believe we can count on sexual arousal every time we need to generate psychic power,she answered.
He reached for a towel and wrapped it around her shoulders, then began to dry her off.
As he did, she caught the thought in his mind.
You’re full of ideas, she answered.
You don’t think we should try it?
Is it ethical?
We’re not going to harm anyone. We’re just going to have a practice session.
They got dressed, left the room, and stopped at the office to ask for restaurant recommendations.
Mrs. Marcos suggested several, and they decided on a place with a deck along the bayou and an extensive seafood menu.
On the way over, they discussed Craig’s plan.
The restaurant was pleasantly decorated with rough-hewn wood on the walls and old-time photographs from the nineteen-twenties and thirties. The dining room was about half full, with plenty of tables available both inside and out.
They walked in and stood together waiting for the hostess to return to the podium. She was a young woman with curly blonde hair and a bright smile.
“We’d like a table,” Craig said, without volunteering any other information. But silently he was asking to sit out on the deck—along the railing.
“I have a lovely spot on the deck along the railing,” the hostess said.
Craig gave Stephanie a satisfied look. “That would be great,” he said to the woman.
They followed her outside, to the only prime spot left at the edge of the deck.
“Your server is Julian, and he will be right with you,” the woman said before she left.
“That went well,” Craig said when they were alone.
