Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Other Titles
About the Author
The Naked Alien
Exposed to the Elements
Honey Phillips
Copyright © 2021 by Honey Phillips
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author.
Disclaimer
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover by Maria Spada
Chapter One
The sensation of a cold, damp nose exploring her neck penetrated Jane’s slumber, and she bit back a groan. Mr. Tiddles, her roommate Amanda’s cat, had found his way into her bedroom again. Amanda liked the idea of having a cat more than she liked the reality of it, and she had a tendency to pawn him off on Jane whenever she could. Normally Jane didn’t mind, but they were in the middle of tax season, and it had been a very late night at work.
“Just let me sleep a little longer,” she muttered, her eyes still closed. “I’ll play with you later.”
Mr. Tiddles responded by poking her cheek with a determined little finger.
Wait a minute. A finger?
Jane’s eyes flew open. The warm weight perched on her chest was most definitely not Mr. Tiddles. She had never seen anything like the creature staring back at her from enormous black eyes. Pink and gold streaked fur covered a small round body with an oversized tail striped with pink and gold. The soft morning light revealed the delicate tracery of pink veins in the huge, tufted ears.
Too shocked to react, she froze. The creature poked her again with a small, pink finger, chittering expectantly. The movement released her from her stupor and with a startled scream, she sat upright. The little creature squawked in response, scrambling back across the clearing and clambering up a long vine with lightning speed.
Clearing? Vine?
Her familiar bedroom had disappeared. Instead she was surrounded by a rainbow array of vegetation, none of which looked remotely familiar. Candy colored vines dripped from huge trees in deep shades of magenta and purple, while feathery vegetation in a startling variety of blues and golds provided contrasting undergrowth. Her slightly worn mattress had also vanished, and she was sitting on a huge velvety leaf in a deep shade of purple.
With a horrified gasp, she realized the reason she knew that it was velvety was because there was nothing separating her from the leaf. Her pajamas too were missing.
She was completely naked. And alone. And in the strangest place she’d ever seen. What the hell had happened to her?
Was she hallucinating? Could someone have drugged her?
As usual, Amanda had been entertaining when Jane finally dragged her way home last night. She had accepted a small glass of wine in a hopeful attempt to be social but, again as usual, she just felt out of place. After standing awkwardly next to Amanda while her roommate flirted with a skinny hipster, she drained her glass, muttered an excuse, and fled to the safety of her room.
She supposed it was possible that there had been something in the wine, but she knew that most of Amanda’s friends considered her drab and uninteresting. Why would anyone have bothered?
More importantly, this didn’t feel like a hallucination. The air was thick and heavy with humidity. The giant leaf beneath her felt soft and velvety to her touch, and the small creature who had awakened her had been warm and alive. The rich smell of growing things surrounded her, lush and fertile and underlaid with the sweet scent of flowers. The air was full of sound—leaves rustling, the chirps and squawks of what she assumed was some kind of insect life, even a distant growl that made her shiver. This felt all too real.
But if this was real, where was she? Her surroundings were beautiful and exotic and… alien. As if she were no longer on Earth.
Nonsense!
She hastily dismissed the idea. Just because this type of vegetation was new to her didn’t mean that it didn’t exist somewhere on Earth. It was probably just some sort of exotic jungle that she had never seen before—she certainly wasn’t an expert on wilderness areas. No matter how strange it might be, the fact that she was here meant that someone had to have brought her. And if someone had brought her here, they could just damn well return her to her safe little life.
Despite her determination, she could feel panic hovering just beneath the surface. It didn’t help that she had absolutely no idea where to start looking for whoever had abandoned her here.
A soft chittering sounded from across the clearing and she saw her earlier visitor peering at her from between two of the giant leaves. It was a cute little thing and it seemed harmless enough. It would be nice to have a friend…
“Hello there,” she said softly. “Did I scare you? You startled me too.”
She held out her hand and clicked her tongue encouragingly. The big dark eyes stared at her for a moment, and then it cautiously emerged from the undergrowth, hovering uncertainly on the other side of the clearing.
“That’s right. I won’t hurt you.”
Now that it was more clearly visible, she could see that it looked like an odd cross between a monkey and a cat. Its body was monkey-like with small, sturdy looking limbs and paws that looked like miniature hands, but it had the flattened muzzle and facial structure of a feline. She clicked her tongue again and those enormous ears tilted to catch the sound. It advanced slowly across the clearing as she continued to encourage it, then covered the last few feet in one big jump, landing in her lap with an excited squeak.
She laughed and gently stroked its, no, his fur. He made a purring noise and leaned into her hand.
“You may not look like him, but you sound like Mr. Tiddles.” He purred again and she smiled. “Does that mean you approve of the name? Perhaps I should call you Mr. Tiddles as well.”
As she stroked his soft fur, she cast a nervous look around her. “Are there scary things in this jungle?”
He chittered softly in what she feared was agreement. The shadows seemed to have lengthened over the past few minutes. And was the sky getting darker? The idea of setting out into the darkness appalled her, but so did the idea of spending the night out in the open. Where was she going to sleep?
Her stomach growled and she realized that sleeping arrangements were only part of her problem. How was she going to find anything to eat or drink?
The panic that she had been trying to hold at bay rose to the surface and she started to shake. Mr. Tiddles made an anxious noise and patted her face. The sympathetic gesture was the final straw. Tears started to drip down her cheeks as she gathered him close and gave into despair.
From his perch high in the trees, Commander Taraxan Bellkandis watched as the little female below huddled into a tight ball of misery. He had the strangest impulse to go and comfort her, but he immediately pushed it aside. He had no intention of making his presence known until he determined whether or not she presented a
threat. While he could not believe that such a small, lushly female body represented any danger, she could be intended as a lure to a larger trap.
When he had awoken on this strange, colorful planet instead of in the crisp whiteness of his quarters onboard the Sword of Meikka, he assumed he must have been brought here by an enemy. Although his people, the Doturans, were not currently engaged in active conflict with any other race, the galaxy was a tumultuous place, and periods of peace never seemed to last long. The fact that he had been taken from within his own ship, safely—he had thought—docked on the farthest moon of their system, argued a level of technology that indicated a formidable opponent.
A quick inspection had confirmed that he had been abandoned without weapons or clothing. The lack of clothing he dismissed, but the lack of weaponry had sinister implications. Was it an attempt to render him defenseless? A grim smile curved his lips. His natural abilities, not to mention his years of training, made him a formidable enemy—which anyone attempting to cause him harm would rapidly discover.
A thorough search of the area where he had been left revealed nothing except a crudely woven bag, but within the bag he discovered a long sharp knife and a sheet of something that was definitely not native to this primitive environment. The thin, flexible material was etched with what appeared to be a map, although the symbols were unfamiliar.
With an impatient glance at the thickness of the surrounding vegetation, he took to the trees instead, climbing rapidly upwards until he could see over the vast canopy of trees. Comparing his surroundings to his map, he decided that one set of symbols must represent the mountains rearing up in the distance. The glint of water in the other direction suggested a river, which also appeared to be represented on the map. Based on those features, a symbol that bore a faint resemblance to a sword must indicate his current position. That symbol was repeated again a considerable distance away, next to what could be a representation of his home planet of Dotura.
If the map could be trusted, it might indicate that he needed to reach that location in order to be returned to his previous existence. Was this a test to see how well a Doturan could survive without the aid of technology? If so, his unseen opponent was in for a surprise. He smiled again. Despite their present star-faring capability, the Doturans had never forgotten their origins. He had been trained to survive in the wilderness since he was a child and even now, he escaped the confines of his duties whenever possible—a feat that had grown more difficult with his increasing rank. This could prove most enjoyable.
He was halfway back down the tree when a noise from below caught his attention. It seemed out of place amongst the other sounds of the jungle and he descended rapidly until he could observe… a female?
Small and lushly curved, with a mane of long dark hair, she was certainly not Doturan. Was she a native? He dismissed the thought immediately. Her pale skin, a striking contrast to the rich hues surrounding her, and her awkward movements argued that she was as out of place as he. Perhaps her race was being tested as well. He scanned the clearing below and recognized a bag similar to his own, confirming his suspicion.
In that case, he should keep his distance… Or perhaps he should continue to observe, he amended as she rose to her feet and he got a good look at her naked body. Every inch of her was softly curved, from full, heavy breasts to a lush, round ass perfect for gripping as he entered—
His thoughts came to an abrupt halt.
What was wrong with him? He was an officer and a gentleman. Lustful thoughts about a strange female were beneath him, even if his interactions with females had been as infrequent as his survival trips for the past few years. This primitive environment must be to blame, arousing his own more primitive instincts.
As he argued with himself, he heard her speaking in a low sultry voice, and he automatically dropped further down the tree in order to hear her better. Despite his translation implant, her words were unintelligible. Interesting. As far as he knew, it was programmed to handle all known languages. Could she be a native after all?
But as he watched her give in to despair, he was quite sure she was as much a stranger as he was on this planet. Her sorrow bothered him more than he liked to admit, but he still couldn’t disregard the possibility that she had been planted here as part of whatever test was being performed. Still, relief swept over him when she finally stopped crying and lifted her head.
The small forest creature she had enticed from the trees muttered anxiously, and he watched with what he refused to admit was envy as she stroked its fur. How would those small, soft fingers feel on his own much harder skin?
She stood, still cradling the creature between those tempting breasts, and wandered aimlessly around the clearing. He waited for her to pick up the woven bag that matched his own, but she passed it twice before he realized that she hadn’t noticed it amongst the colorful undergrowth. Hmm.
After a brief debate with himself, he pulled a dead stick loose from the tree. Aiming it carefully, he tossed it down into the clearing beside the bag. She jumped at the noise, then went to investigate. As she did, she tripped over the bag. Not exactly what he had in mind, but at least she’d found it at last.
Good. He settled back against the trunk to await developments.
Chapter Two
The harsh crack of something hitting the ground made Jane jump, then frown when she realized it was just a branch. It seemed odd that it would have landed with such force in the center of the clearing. She hesitated, then went to take a closer look. As she did, her foot caught on a trailing vine.
No! Not a vine. She had tripped over the handle of a primitive bag, roughly woven out of the vines that surrounded her.
She snatched it up eagerly, hoping that it would provide some type of explanation. To her disappointment, it only contained two items. The first was a small metal device—an unmarked cylindrical tube. The metal was smooth and unblemished, polished to a high sheen, and looked completely out of place in this primitive setting. She started to throw it away in disgust, then reconsidered and placed it back in the bag.
The second item was even more baffling. A thin sheet of white plastic was covered with meaningless symbols. If it had been intended to communicate with her, she had absolutely no idea what it was supposed to represent. Her hands shaking, she crumpled it into a small ball, but as soon as she let go of it, it unfolded into a smooth, unwrinkled sheet.
Another sign of obviously advanced technology, but what did it mean? And why would those two sophisticated items be left in such a rustic bag?
Her head ached as she tried desperately to come up with an answer. She rubbed her temples, simultaneously realizing that her mouth was dry and her throat sore from crying. She desperately wanted something to drink, but she had no idea how to find water.
“I knew I should have joined the Girl Scouts,” she muttered. Of course, her widowed mother hadn’t wanted her only daughter venturing into the wilderness. And Jane had been content enough with her books not to push the issue.
But she was still going to need to find some water, assuming that it would even be safe to drink. A sloshing noise interrupted her thoughts, and she looked over to see Mr. Tiddles upending a leaf and pouring the moisture from it into his mouth.
She rushed over to join him and realized that the plant he had chosen had large cup-shaped blue leaves, each one containing a small amount of fluid. Was it water? She hesitated, biting her lip, then dipped a cautious fingertip into the liquid. Her fingertip didn’t burn and it felt just like water. After a cautious sniff, she touched her damp finger to the tip of her tongue. It tasted cool and slightly minty.
Mr. Tiddles chittered at her with what seemed like encouragement. Screwing up her face, she took a cautious sip. The cool liquid flowing into her parched mouth felt like heaven, and she abandoned her caution, draining leaf after leaf until her thirst was assuaged.
Afterwards, she sank back down to the ground and was immediately seized by second thoughts. What if the water
wasn’t safe? Horrible thoughts of poisoning and dysentery and death danced in her mind—the type of reaction her mother would have had—but she did her best to push them away. The water, if it was water, had tasted fine and she didn’t feel any distress. In fact, she felt surprisingly clear-headed.
“And you’re fine, aren’t you?” she said to Mr. Tiddles, resolutely ignoring the fact that he was undoubtedly a native of this place.
He chirped amiably back at her and she realized that the noises of the surrounding jungle were changing. The light was definitely beginning to fade. She felt exposed in this clearing, but she couldn’t bring herself to face the shadowy darkness of the surrounding jungle.
In the end, she gathered more of the enormous leaves and piled them at the base of a tree on the edge of the clearing. She sat down, her back to the tree, and pulled another leaf over her. Everything felt a little damp from the humidity, but the leaf provided a surprising amount of warmth as the air cooled. Mr. Tiddles crawled up on her shoulder and wrapped his long furry tail around her neck before falling asleep. Having him there comforted her, even though he couldn’t defend her from anything larger than a bread box.
She stroked his fur idly and tried to come up with a plan. In her earlier thirst she had drained most of the leaves from the blue-leafed bush, and she hadn’t seen any others in the immediate vicinity. She was going to need more water and soon. The liquid had been surprisingly filling, but at some point she was going to need food as well. Perhaps she could watch Mr. Tiddles and see what he ate. But water…
Night fell with a sudden overwhelming blackness. A fragment of memory appeared—something she had once read about sunset in the tropics. Did that mean that she was near the equator? If so, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about freezing to death.
It was scant comfort and she returned to worrying about supplies. As she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the trunk, the image from the sheet of plastic reappeared in her mind. There had been a long wavy line angling across the sheet. With her mind still preoccupied with thoughts of water, she suddenly wondered if it was intended to represent a river. Could the sheet possibly be a map of some kind?
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