by Presley Hall
It’s clear that she wants privacy to bathe. I can still feel how heavy the air is between us, and the heat in the room that has nothing to do with the bath. But I know I have to give her time. She has to understand what this is before she can decide if she wants it.
Nodding gravely to her, I step aside and leave the room, closing the door behind me.
While she bathes, I distract myself by making a meal for us, trying to choose foods from my limited supply that might seem familiar to her.
I have no idea what Terrans eat, but meat, vegetables, and some bread seems safe enough. I have some smoked meat left from a ralik bird that I caught, some vegetables from the garden I’ve cultivated behind the house, and a fairly misshapen bread loaf that I baked yesterday. It’s far from the most attractive food I’ve ever seen, and definitely not the most delicious, but it’s the best I can come up with. Something about Jade tells me that she won’t be expecting a banquet laid out for her.
I arrange it all on a wooden tray, placing it in the middle of the table, and set out a plate for each of us and utensils that I purchased from a passing trader some time ago. I can’t help but laugh a little to myself as I look at the rustic spread. There was a time when I expected to woo my Irisa with banquets in her honor, with exotic foods cooked by the best culinary artists Jocia has to offer. There would be dancing and drinking and celebration, and all of the excess that a prince of Kalix could command.
Instead, there’s a simple meal on simple dishes, for a woman who doesn’t even know why I want so badly to impress her, whom I can’t even say the simplest of phrases to.
It’s a harsh reminder of why I am where I am today, and why I shouldn’t have her at all.
I’m so engrossed in my thoughts that I don’t even hear Jade come in until she clears her throat lightly. When I look up, I find her standing on the other side of the table a few feet away. Her hair is wet, gleaming black in the braid that she’s put it in. Her face is pale and beautiful. A few scratches mar her skin from our trek through the underbrush, but nothing too bad.
I laid out her old clothing on the bed for her while she bathed, and she’s gotten dressed. I washed it thoroughly as I passed the time waiting for her to awaken, so although there are a few tears in the fabric, the bloodstains are gone. These clothes cover much more of her body than the small items I left her in while she healed. Terrans must prefer that.
Kalixians are hardly bothered by nudity. Although the custom in Jocia is to wear clothing, many of the rural citizens dress in as little as possible—loincloths for the men, and a short leather or woven skirt for the women, with a small strip of material tied across the breasts. They’re more for practicality and protection of sensitive parts than for modesty. Out here in the middle of nowhere, it seems to matter even less. I long ago abandoned the clothing of the capitol for the simple loincloth that warriors and farmers wear.
I gesture to the food on the table, and Jade’s gaze darts immediately to it.
She must be starving, I realize as we both sit across from each other. I can see the restraint that it takes for her to slowly pile food onto her plate, taking small bites as if she doesn’t want to devour it all immediately.
I pick at my own food, preferring to watch her. She looks up at me in between bites, her gaze wary, as if she’s waiting for something to happen. For me to attack, or take the food away, or reveal my true intentions.
If only she knew. The only intention I have toward her, I’ve made plain—but even that, I won’t force. She can leave if she wants, although I desperately want to communicate to her how dangerous that would be. I want to help her, and I wish I could tell her that.
And more than that, I simply want her, in every way that it’s possible to want another person.
She brushes her finger over her lower lip, wiping away a crumb, and the shock of desire that rushes through me as I look at her full, soft mouth leaves me weak. I’ve never felt anything like this before, not for anyone. I want to crush her mouth against mine, devour her, taste her sweetness all over again. I want to run my hands over every inch of her body.
She looks up at me, her gaze meeting mine, and I wonder if she can see all of that in my face, the intensity with which I desire her. Her green eyes widen a little, and I feel the tension between us, the restraint on both of our parts that could break so easily.
It’s almost too much to bear.
When she’s finished eating, I clear up the plates, then gesture for her to follow me. I know she must be exhausted, and although I want nothing more than to fall into bed as well, I’m certain she won’t be comfortable sharing it with me.
I push the door to the bedroom open, and she hesitates momentarily, her gaze flicking nervously toward me when she sees the bed. Her hesitance at what she must think is my urging for us to go to bed together stings, but I just shake my head and point first at the mattress, then at her.
When she frowns, her muscles tensing, I shake my head again and point at myself, then into the main room where the large chair I fashioned several years ago sits. It’s not the most comfortable thing, but it’ll do. I’ve slept on far worse, before I managed to build this dwelling for myself.
She visibly relaxes and nods. She says something in her language, her tone grateful, and I just give her a small smile and back away. I don’t want her to feel threatened, and no matter how much I want to follow her into that bed, I want her to understand that I won’t.
Not until she asks me to.
If she ever does.
10
Jade
For a brief moment, I’m tempted to invite the alien man into the room with me. I’m still reeling a little from everything that’s happened, and the idea of being alone is vaguely unsettling. But it would be a bad idea. The way my body responds to him almost frightens me a little. How can I be so desperately attracted to an alien, a creature from another planet with horns and eyes that change colors?
So I just nod my head in thanks when he offers me his bed, then watch him pad quietly away down the hall.
I don’t know what to make of him yet, and it seems like a better idea to keep my distance, no matter how fascinated by him I am. He’s gruff and rugged, a mountain-man type, but incredibly handsome. Possibly the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, which is all the more unsettling because… well, he’s an alien.
And then I think of the other side of him, the side I saw today. The same fierce warrior who saved me from the creature in the swamp also took me back to his house and drew a bath for me, understood that I wanted privacy, respected my modesty, and went and made dinner for us.
He’s not only fierce and rugged, he’s also gentlemanly and honorable. He’s shown that he’s willing to protect me at great cost to himself, and he’s also been gentle and caring. I feel as if I should trust him… but a small part of me screams that it’s just not possible.
It doesn’t fit with what I know of men, and the reasons that I’ve always kept them at arm’s length. I like my relationships with them to be casual, easy to sever when they show their true colors. And I learned from a very young age what their true colors are.
I made a pact with myself when I was a teenager that I would always make sure I could defend myself. That I would never rely on anyone else for protection, that I would never be weak in the face of violence or any other kind of threat.
And now…
Well, here on this alien planet, I’m not exactly weak, but I can’t rely solely on myself either. I don’t speak the language here, I don’t really know where I am, and I have no way of knowing what dangers I might face.
I need Brele’s help, and that makes me uncomfortable in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. It overwhelms the desire I feel and makes me angry, at myself more than anything, for getting into this situation in the first place.
And how will I ever find Emma? Where is she now? Is she somewhere on this planet, or with the Orkun who captured me? Is she safe? Is she as afraid as I feel, right this second
?
It takes a long time for me to fall asleep. I stare up at the rough-hewn ceiling above me, my gaze tracing the patterns of the wood illuminated by the moonlight. When I glance toward the window, I can see two orbs glowing in the distance.
There are two moons on this planet.
I blink, overcome suddenly by a rush of awe. Some things seem so familiar here, and others are so very strange. I can’t help but wish the circumstances that led me here were different. I’m on an alien planet, very far away from home, and a small part of me realizes how incredible that is—how exciting and adventurous it could feel.
But that’s not how things are. Don’t wish for them to be different. Just focus on what is.
With that stern reminder to myself, I close my eyes. But my body is tense, every part of me wary and alert for what might happen next. I’ve always been cautious in unfamiliar places since I was a child, and this just dials it up to eleven.
But finally, somehow, I fall asleep. The exhaustion of the day won’t permit anything else, and the warmth of the room and my full belly lull me into unconsciousness despite my worry and anxiety.
It isn’t a restful sleep though.
I’m in a room that looks familiar. A room with a pink and white bed and a window with lace curtains. Stuffed animals are lined up neatly by the pillows.
It’s my childhood room, but I’m not a child anymore. I’m me, just as I am now, and I look around frantically, wondering how I got here. I didn’t think I’d ever see this place again—I didn’t want to.
I hated this room. I hated the forced girliness of it, the way my father insisted I was weak, not the boy he wanted but a silly girl who would only ever be interested in silly things.
I can hear fists pounding on the door, shouting at me to unlock it, shouting that it will be worse if I don’t. And just like that, I’m ten again, or twelve or thirteen, all the ages I’ve ever been, my heart pounding in my chest as I huddle on the awful, ugly bed and hope that the lock will hold.
It never does.
The room swirls and bends around me, the moving colors making me feel sick, and then I’m on my own street again, walking up to my apartment. It’s a studio, small and mostly bare, but it’s mine. Only Emma has a key. Only I choose who gets to come in here.
But not today. When I open the door, I see him sitting on my couch.
Dad.
He doesn’t look any older, as if the decade between the last time I saw him in real life and now hasn’t passed at all.
But it has. I’m not the same person I was then. I’m stronger and braver, and I’ve built up a wall of determination and anger around my heart.
“Get out!” I drop my groceries to the floor, my hands curling into fists. “Get out of my apartment.”
He sneers at me. “This is my apartment now. I bought the building. Don’t you see, baby girl? You thought you’d escaped, but I told you I’d find you.”
“Get out!” I scream again, and when he doesn’t move, I take a deep breath. “Fine, I’ll leave. You can have it. I’ll find somewhere else—”
His hand closes around my wrist, cutting off my words. Fuck. How did he cross the room so fast?
As I turn toward him and catch a glimpse of his face, I scream. I hate myself for it, but I can’t help it. My father’s face is changing, folding in on itself, turning into thick gray-green skin that resembles an alien bulldog with tusks. And then he leers at me.
It’s Alkul, and the room isn’t my room anymore. It’s a ship hurtling through space.
“You thought you’d escaped, but I told you I’d find you,” he sneers, leaning so close that I can smell his rotten breath. “Do you know what happens to bad girls who run away? I give them to my men when I’m finished with them.” I see the guards behind him, leering at me as he pulls me close against him. “You’re mine now, and there’s no escape.”
“You’ve got to use a firm hand with that one, she’s rebellious,” I hear a growly voice say, and one of the guards starts to shift, my father’s face appearing on his body, horrid and grotesque. “Maybe you’ll have better luck than I did.”
“Come on, baby girl.” Alkul yanks me forward. “Let me show you where you’ll be sleeping from now on. Tied up next to me, right where I want you…”
The ship rocks suddenly, swerving harshly from side to side, and suddenly, I’m at the controls, trying desperately to steer, to escape, but Alkul is pulling me off, ripping me away from the steering mechanism. The ship rolls, throwing us to one side, and his stinking body lands on top of me as we hurtle downward.
We’re crashing.
I’m going to die.
I’m going to die with this horrible alien on top of me, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I jerk awake with a start, gasping, my heart galloping in my chest.
The darkness of the room feels as if it’s pressing in on me, suffocating me. I want to sit up, get out of bed and run away, but I feel frozen in place, terrified from the images of the dream that are still flashing in my head, too vivid for comfort.
My eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, and as they do, I register a shape next to the bed. A huge, hulking shape.
I open my mouth to scream… and then I see the horns.
Brele.
My first instinct as he moves closer is to lash out, to punch at him, to kick and fight until I can get out of the bed and out of this house. But who knows what else is waiting for me out there? What other terrors does this planet hold? They’re probably worse than a strange alien who draws me baths and feeds me.
Brele reaches out gingerly, as if he expects me to strike at him.
He’s already figuring me out, I think dryly through the haze of fear that clouds my mind. But when his hand gently slides down my arm, his palm soft and open almost as if he’s petting me, I feel my heart rate start to slow.
His touch should frighten me, but instead it’s comforting. Calming, even.
I let him stroke my arm as my breathing eases, and before I can talk myself out of it, I shift to the side and make room for him in the bed. He hesitates for a moment, but I glance down at the mattress and back at him, hoping he’ll get the hint. More than anything, I have the overwhelming feeling that I don’t want to be alone right now. I don’t understand it. I’ve faced terrifying things all my life, and I’ve always faced them alone. But something about Brele makes me want him near me.
That, in its own way, is almost as scary as the dream. But it doesn’t stop me.
He climbs onto the bed and lies down next to me, the weight of his body making the mattress shift as he stretches out alongside me. He murmurs low words in a soothing tone, and even though I can’t understand them, the deep rumble of his voice grounds me somehow.
“I had a bad dream,” I admit, because I know he can’t understand me either. “A nightmare. I haven’t dreamed about my dad in years.”
Brele says something in response, stroking my arm again. My breath catches in my throat, goosebumps erupting over my skin as little pinpricks of sensation shoot through my limbs. I know he’s trying to soothe me, and his presence is helping chase away the lingering fear from the dream—but it’s certainly not slowing my heart rate down at all.
I lie perfectly still, forcing myself to breathe evenly and steadily, almost like I’m afraid I might scare him off if I move.
That doesn’t make any sense. This man is almost seven feet of strapping muscle. If anyone should be afraid of anyone here, it’s me of him.
I don’t want him to stop touching me though. I’m not sure I want him to realize exactly what his touch is doing to me either, but as his broad palm moves over my skin, it gets harder and harder to stay still. It’s lighting up every nerve-ending in my body, and the nightmare is still clinging to the edges of my mind. I want him to chase the last shadows of my fear away, to make me feel something good instead of the sheer terror I woke up with.
Unable to stop myself, I move a little closer to him, blinking as we co
me face-to-face in the darkness. I took off my pants before crawling into bed, but I’ve still got my panties and t-shirt on. It feels like too much and not enough all at once—especially when I realize with a start that Brele is completely naked.
I can feel the heat of his body radiating into mine. It makes me want to curl up against him, to let his body form a shield around mine that will keep everything bad out.
He speaks in his language again, the sounds falling into my ears in a way that almost makes me believe I could understand them if I just tried hard enough. His fingertips drift over the curve of my shoulder as he gazes at me intently, and the pull inside me intensifies until I can’t bear it any longer.
When I lean forward to kiss him, he lets out a startled breath. But the momentary sign of shock is washed away quickly as he kisses me back, his lips firm against mine. I gasp in response, my own lips parting. He tastes faintly smoky, and I moan when he takes full advantage of my open mouth, his tongue sweeping inside.
He groans, the deep sound vibrating against my lips. He shifts toward me, and my pussy clenches as I feel the press of his bare hip against my overheated skin, and then… his cock against my thigh, rock hard already.
I do that to him, I realize with a flash of arousal so strong that it makes me feel almost dizzy.
We’ve barely touched, only his hand on my arm and our lips pressed together, and yet he’s harder than I’ve ever felt any man, pulsing against my thigh as if he’s desperate to be inside me. But he doesn’t make any move to push me further, only keeps touching me gently as we kiss, the caress of his hand on my arm moving to my waist and then gently trailing across my stomach.
My curiosity stirs. He’s completely bare right now. I’d only have to reach downward to find out exactly what an alien man feels like, to wrap my hand around him and discover how he’s made. But I’m a little afraid of what I might find there—and more afraid of what will happen next if I do. I don’t know how much control I have left, and the desire in me only seems to keep building.
