Chapter 6

I was drinking coffee when Jim Price announced on the intercom from the security room that Dr. Johnson had arrived. I eagerly rose to greet her outside when she stopped her car on the circular drive in front of my home.

I'd rented Arabian mares, and the horses came with a wrangler. The horses were saddled and staged at the rear of my property for our ride into the Superstition Mountains.

Leah moved from her car with energy and grace. She wore tight blue jeans, a Western style shirt and hat, and riding boots. The sight of her warmed me more than the cup of coffee I'd abandoned to greet her. I held out my arms, and she moved into them. I gave her a hug and a good-morning kiss.

"Coffee?" I said.

"Yep," she said. "But I want to be on horseback for the sunrise."

"A woman after my own heart," I said.

When we walked into the house, we could see Greg and Sable through the glass wall in the great room moving through their morning tai chi exercises on the patio. We also saw Ginny standing inside the room. The girl turned to the sounds we made and gave us a wistful look. Like Leah, she was dressed for riding.

"Would you mind a little company?" I whispered to Leah.

"Greg's daughter?" she said, just as quietly.

"Uh-huh."

"Fine by me."

"Are you sure? This will be her first ride."

"Look at her. How could I say no?"

I laughed. "Ginny," I said loudly, "would you like to ride with us?"

"Yes!" she shouted, pumped both fists above her head, and leaped into the air with glee.

"Run back to the horses. Tell the wrangler to adjust the stirrups on one of the horses to fit you."

She started for the French doors to leave the house so quickly I hardly had time to stop her. "Whoa, cowgirl." She stopped and spun toward me. "Tell him to give you some tips about riding horses while he adjusts the stirrups."

"I will!" She spun away, and then turned back. "Anything else?"

"Nope," I said, trying not to laugh.

I watched as she ran outside, interrupted her father and Sable to inform them she'd been asked to ride with us, and then dashed toward the horses we could see in the distance. Greg ginned at me and put up his thumb.

"You just made her day, maybe her week," Leah said as we stepped into the kitchen for some coffee.

"Greg and Sable came to me yesterday and asked if Ginny could ride with us. I made a quick phone call and added the extra horse, a very gentle, well-mannered mare. Then I told Greg that Ginny could go riding with us on two conditions: one, that she was ready to go at first light, and two, that my date agreed to let her join us."

"Would you have disappointed her if I'd said no?"

"Yes – until this afternoon. After our ride, if anyone else here wants to try horseback riding, the horses will be available until about three o'clock. I rented the horses for the day. If you'd said no, no doubt Ginny would have been the first in line for the second shift. She'll probably be in the line anyway. Do you remember your first ride?"

She snickered. "I think my father had me on a horse before I learned to walk."

"I figured. We won't be riding any of the named trails in the Superstition Mountains today," I said, "but I've done some hiking into the mountains from the rear of my property, so I know what we'll be getting into. The ride should produce some stunning scenery."

"What kind of horses?"

"They're half-Arabians."

"Why the wrangler?"

I chuckled. "The ranch that rented them to me didn't trust me to handle them without the wrangler. Finish your coffee or bring it with you. We can walk back to the horses, or I can get the Hummer out of the garages."

"Let's walk," she said.

Enjoying a sunrise on the back of a horse in the craggy Superstition Mountains had to be one of the highlights of my life, all three of them, and not just for the magnificent views. My companions were delightful. Ginny started out nervous, which made her mount nervous, but Leah helped her relax by giving her instructions, which Ginny followed to the letter.

Near the end of the ride, Leah leaned to me and whispered, "My father will make a ranch hand out of that girl."

"Lucky girl," I said.

"Yep."

"I've decided to go with straight Egyptian Arabians for my little ranch," I said. "Can you take ten days to two weeks off before the new term begins?"

"Possibly. Why?"

"To fly with me to Egypt."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. I checked. You haven't seen the pyramids. An archeologist can't truly claim the title until she's visited the Great Pyramids at Giza, and if I'm going to raise straight Egyptians, I should check them out at their source. To that end, I've arranged a visit to the famous Al Badeia Stud in Cairo. I did not arrange a tour of the pyramids. I figured you could make those arrangements, what with you being an archeologist."

"The Land of the Pharaohs," she breathed, looking as wistful as Ginny had looked that morning before the ride. "When?"

"You tell me, your schedule is tighter than mine."

"I must send my competed manuscript to my publisher, and ... let me make some calls tomorrow. I think I can clear my decks by next Friday."

"Friday is good if you can make next Friday a definite departure date tomorrow. We'll fly from here to New York City and spend a day there shopping. From the Big Apple, we'll fly directly to London, and without deplaning, fly on to Cairo. Jet lag will hit us like a heavy brick, so we'll rest for a day. That'll give you three days for archeological fun and games, and I'll need a day for our visit to Al Badeia Stud, and another day at the Royal Agricultural Society to view their herd of straight Arabians. Then we'll retrace our steps back to Phoenix, except we won't spend a day in New York." I chuckled. "Do I know how to court a woman, or what?"

They sat in hot, thrashing, frothing water, getting the kinks out after the ride. Clint wore a baggy pair of swim trunks. Good thing, too, Leah reflected. The suit offered room for a prominent bulge without being uncomfortable, and bulging it was. She appreciated the complimentary salute. If she didn't excite him, dressed as she was, she'd be devastated. She'd borrowed a bikini. It fit – sort of. Sable had slightly larger breasts than Leah and was a little wider in the hips, but the shape and size of their bodies were close enough to trade clothing.

The saddle rubbing against her, the movement of the horse between her legs, the man riding beside her – especially the man – had given her libido a jumpstart. Clint's bulge took her arousal higher. She wanted to take a bow for the applause the swelling in his trunks represented, but if she did, the loose bikini top might droop too far. She suppressed a giggle. That'd make the bulge bigger.

Maybe not. The salute appeared complete. Hard to say in the bubbling water, though, considering the distortion caused by refraction.

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, enjoying the relaxing, massaging water in the hot tub, and also letting her mind build a sexy fantasy. In the daydream, she removed the borrowed bikini, straddled his lap, pulled out the top of his swimming suit, and reached inside. Moments later, she could almost feel the exquisite sensations when he entered her.

She squirmed with frustration on the seat in the hot tub. Her eyes snapped open and she came back to the here and now. Would his sex drive match hers? Or at least come close? Would she scare him away when he realized how much she enjoyed sex? Would he turn away from her when he found out how often she'd want him?

"It's driving you bonkers, isn't it?" Leah said.

"Huh?" he said.

"Not being able to reach out and touch my mind with yours?"

"It is," he said.

"You're used to experiencing the thoughts of the women you're with, discovering what they want ... and when."

"I am," he said.

"But with me, because I can sense your mental touch and because you promised to stay out of my mind, you feel adrift, not as sure of yourself as you would be otherwise."

"Precisely," he said.

"Can you send as well as receive?"

"Huh?"

"Can you send a thought of yours to me?"

"Sending never occurred to me," he said.

"Try, but don't connect your mind with mine before the attempt," she said.

She felt nothing, experienced nothing.

"Did you try?"

"I did. From your reaction, I'd guess I failed." He grinned, a boyish grin that sent tingles all over her body. "To send would require a connection similar if not identical to the connection I must make to receive."

"Uh-uh, not now. Maybe another time," she said.

"Why not now?"

"You're hard, aren't you?" she said, changing the subject – sort of. In her frame of mine, allowing him in her mind could prove ... what? Disastrous? Helpful? Could go either way, she decided.

"I am," he said. "You excite me. My imagination has been creating sexy scenarios I can't speak out loud."

"Unspeakable scenes of debauchery, huh?" she said.

"Yes."

"I like that. Our imaginations are compatible; they share common ground," she said. "You're hard; I'm wet, and not from this frothing water."

He reached for her, lifted her as if she weighed half of nothing and settled her on his lap. She didn't protest. Instead, she helped. His arms went around her, and he kissed her passionately. She tasted his tongue. It was hard, too. And insistent. His hand moved from her knee up her thigh. She spread her legs slightly, inviting his touch. The hand didn't stop until it cupped her sex. Her hand, like his, also explored, gently wrapped his erection over the fabric of his trunks, testing for length and girth, but her mind was too befuddled to gauge any results from the blind grope.

"Let's take this to a private place," he said when the kiss ended.

"Where would that be?"

"My bedroom. My bed."

Intellectually, she wanted to say no. Emotionally, she nodded and kissed him again.

We lay side by side, touching but not holding each other, panting, getting back our breaths, a sheen of perspiration covering our bodies. The sex had been fantastic, but I knew it would get better. First times can always be improved upon, even if the first time was fantastic. And, I'd experienced another best with her – my best first date, my best first sex.

I'd cheated in the hot tub. I hadn't reached out and touched Leah's mind with mine, but we'd been alone. No one was within ten feet of us, so I'd turned on my passive receiver. Her mental meanderings came in loud and clear and thrilled me. She'd wanted me, wanted sex as much or more than I. She'd hoped my sex drive was a match for hers. Or almost.

I liked that. A lot. I think. There was a down side. My sex drive might not be close to hers. I'd noticed, as a general rule, that women could achieve more orgasms than men.

Well, there was only one way to find out. That's when I'd pulled her onto my lap and kissed her.

In the bedroom, she'd ratcheted up her thoughts from naughty to nasty, which was fine with me. Her body was exquisite. She was athletic in bed without becoming frenzied, and she'd moved back and forth from intensely passionate to just having good time. She could take, and she could give. I liked that, too. Most women can only take or give, rarely both in equal amounts.

"So good," she breathed. "That was so good." She turned to me, rolled her torso onto my chest and kissed me, a soft kiss, devoid of passion, but nonetheless very much appreciated.

My hands roamed over her damp, heated flesh, rubbed her down like I would for a horse I'd ridden hard. I stifled a chuckle. She'd been ridden hard. I couldn't in good conscious put her away wet.

She rolled away from me and off the bed. "Don't move," she said. "I'll be right back."

I heard water running. I also heard her thoughts.

Too soon. I fell on my back and spread my legs too soon. Dammit! He'll think I'm a loose woman. I'm highly sexed, but I'm not loose. I'm very, very discriminating. Argh.

That's it. Clean it, make it squeaky clean. Hmm, that feels good, not as good as Clint inside me, but...

Criminy, woman! You just had sex. Good sex. Make that great sex. You came like a house afire – twice! And then you touch yourself with a washcloth, and you get the urge again. What's wrong with you?

I felt a mental groan.

Washing me did, in fact, get my motor running, that and her renewed desire, but I foiled her plan. I pulled her up to straddle my face instead of my hips.

She didn't seem to mind the change in plans, but a little later, she put her original plan in action. I didn't mind. By then, I wanted her to ride me.

Sex with Leah just kept getting better and better. I loved it.

She interrupted my mental musings with a quick kiss. We were still stretched out naked on my no-longer crisp sheets. "Okay, I'm ready to try it now," she said. "Connect our minds and try to send me a thought."

"Okay, but don't expect instant success."

"Ah," she said, drawing out the word. "You are in my mind."

"I am."

"Okey dokey, now send me a thought."

You are a sexy woman, I said with my mind and waited.

Nothing.

"Didn't work, huh?" she said.

"Nope."

Try again, she said silently. We're connected. I can feel you in my mind. Send the thought along whatever connects us.

Worth a try, I thought. I pictured the tendril of energy – I assumed it was energy – stretching from my mind to hers. I concentrated, turned the thin tendril into an electronic cable, and said, You are a sexy woman.

She squealed, kissed me quickly a half-dozen times, and said, "You did it!"

"You experienced my thought?" I said, amazed.

"Yep, and I agree with you. I am a sexy woman."

"I'll be dipped," I said.

Can you imagine, Clint, how much fun we can have talking to each other silently? she said as a thought.

Fun? I said, sending the silent word along the electronic cable. A good test. Would she interpret the word as a question?

Yes, fun. You won't have to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. You can think them. She giggled and kissed me again.

To think sweet nothings in your ear, I'll need to be connected with you, I said with my mind.

Lord a mercy, Clint, we spent the last two hours connected in one fashion or another with our bodies. Fantastic connections they were, too. Connecting our minds is the next logical step. I'll admit the mental connection is ... well, more intimate, but I'm game if you are.

That was the moment I fell in love with Dr. Leah Johnson.

Don't hold back, I told myself. You've found love in yourself. Tell her. Tell her how you feel.

I love you, Leah, I said mentally.

Later when I reviewed our first silent conversation, I realized that I could think thoughts she couldn't experience. She only "heard" thoughts I purposefully sent along the connection.

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Long Life and Telepathy

Paul Phenomenon

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