Read By My Choice...: A Valentine's Day Story (Valentine's Day Stories) for Free Online Page A

was never ill, never. True, some of it was the result of close association with paranormals, some of which had at least a minor talent for healing, often subconscious in nature. But not all of it. She was healthy and because she hated and feared doctors she also had a tendency to do all that was necessary to remain so. She exercised every day, ate with a view to healthy ingredients, took vitamins and tended to hide away when she felt the aches and pains of illness until they were over.   In her adult life she had been ill twice and neither had necessitated a visit to the doctor. She did not get ill.
    “Jennifer, tell me what you feel.”  
    His voice was sharper this time, more demanding. Warmth touched her cheek and as he turned her head she realised the sensation were his fingers gently stroking her skin, burying in her hair in a sensuous caress that made her lean into him, lean towards the temptation of his strength. She luxuriated in the touch. It was as if the simple caress reached every part of her body.  
    Somewhere in the depth of her mind she realised in a moment of rational thought that her fear and physical discomfort should not be pushed away by only a touch. There was something wrong, more than just a lack of dignity or decorum, for her to rub her cheek against the warm strength of his palm like a purring kitten under the caressing hands of its owner. The deep green of his eyes captured hers, not with his mind but with his presence. He reached her muddled awareness enough to let her collect a little of her reason, just sufficient concentration to answer the question.
    “I am warm. Too warm. And my clothes hurt.”
    She heard her own words as if through fog, through layers of diffuse distraction. She was falling, drowning in a sea of sensation, each overwhelming, each clamouring for predominance. Every sound, even the smallest touch such as a draft from the window, became all-consuming, overtook her awareness. Something in her mind told her it made no sense, as little sense as her answer had made but she could not bring herself to care, to hold onto that thought. It was all buried under the renewed awareness of his skin against hers, the sensation of his fingers massaging her scalp in soothing, even circles. Again, she could not help leaning into the touch, indulging in it. She was almost sure the sound escaping her lips was closer to a purr than any sound coming from a human mouth should be.
    “Hmm - why don’t you take your coat off then?”
    It sounded so reasonable. His silky voice slipped into her mind, the vibrations of his tone barely disturbing the surface, and before she knew it, her coat slipped from her shoulders. She heard the thud, felt the movement in the air against her legs, as it dropped to the floor. It felt better, the pressure on her shoulders less severe, less painful — but it was not enough. Her mind had not yet caught up with the movement of her hands when they had already opened the three top buttons of her shirt. Jen wanted to hesitate, wanted to stop and think, but the sensation of the cold air against her skin was too overpowering; soothing her agitation and feeding it at the same time. Too slow in making a decision, the choice was taken from her. His deft hands found the buttons, slipped them efficiently through their holes and helped her push the shirt off her shoulders.  
    The cotton fabric hurt as it slid along her skin, grated on her like sandpaper on rough wood. As it dropped to the floor in the wake of her coat it left a path of burning pain on her sensitised skin, the sensation surprising her enough to wake the fear again. This was not right, nothing was right. She had to stop.  
    “No!”  
    The word sounded as if it came from someone else’s mouth. From a distance she noted the panic in her voice slowly bending to outright hysteria. At the same time she felt impotent, unable to do anything. She was losing hold of reality, of her own sensations with every moment