The Naked Alien

by Honey Phillips

  “Yes, I do like it.” She looked from the unwieldy vessel to the water rushing by. “Do you think you’ll be able to steer it?”

  He frowned at her, and she used her hand to mimic a rudder. His face relaxed and he nodded, showing her yet another branch, this one with leaves lashed to it. Instead of the soft leaves they used for bedding, these were dark and stiff. The whole apparatus seemed rather flimsy to her, but she nodded approvingly.

  “Do you think you’ll finish it today?”

  That odd expression crossed his face again, then he shook his head. Relief swept over her. They had more time together. She smiled at him and went to prepare breakfast.

  The day passed peacefully. Tarax continued to work on the raft, several times discarding logs and replacing them with others that were more uniform. By the time the sun began to set, the platform looked surprisingly sturdy.

  After dinner, they watched the stars again, but she didn’t ask any more questions about his past. She wanted to think only of the present and enjoy every minute of their time together.

  Taraxan woke before the sun came up and thought about the day ahead. His raft was as sturdy as he could make it—it was time to face the river. He usually enjoyed pitting his skills against nature, but he found he was not looking forward to this trial. It wasn’t just the thought of exposing Jayn to danger. Once they reached the other side of the river, they would be that much closer to their destination, and that much closer to being parted.

  As he slipped quietly out of bed and began gathering their few supplies, he returned to the possibility of persuading her to accompany him. While he was working the previous day, he had considered and discarded a number of options for his future career. He had finally decided that a homesteading planet might be the most suitable. It would take a great deal of work, of course, but he was not afraid of hard work, and he liked the idea that they could build a new life together.

  Or would she prefer a city? He could probably make a decent living teaching martial arts in one of the larger systems. In the worst case scenario, he could become a gladiator. He had the skills and it paid well, but he was no fan of fighting for the sake of fighting. Still, if that was what it took to provide her, then he would not hesitate.

  Misstuh Tiduhlz joined him as Taraxan finished lashing their supplies to the raft. After devouring one of the shiny, pink beetles he favored, he leapt up into Taraxan’s arms and climbed onto his shoulder.

  “I hope you’re ready for this,” Taraxan murmured. Misstuh Tiduhlz hadn’t even joined them in the jungle pool. Taraxan suspected he was not going to enjoy the river crossing, but he didn’t even consider leaving the small animal behind. He was part of their… family.

  The thought made him smile, and he was still smiling when Jayn emerged from their shelter. Her hair was tousled, her eyes still heavy with sleep, and she looked adorable. How could he ever let her go? Whatever job he had to take in order to provide for her, it would be worth it.

  She wandered over and snuggled against his side, yawning sleepily. “I guess today is the big day?”

  The words weren’t entirely clear, but he understood her general meaning.

  “Tuh-day,” he agreed.

  She made a noncommittal noise, then nestled closer. They stood in silence until she finally straightened and smiled up at him.

  “Then let’s get going.”

  The trust in her eyes made his heart skip a beat. He bent his head and kissed her. As always, the kiss quickly turned passionate, but he reluctantly forced himself to lift his head. This was not the time.

  A short while later, they were ready to depart. Misstuh Tiduhlz had settled in Jayn’s arms, and Taraxan used a length of vine to secure him in place. The little creature grumbled but didn’t fight him. Taraxan also used a length of vine to create a harness for Jayn. He didn’t want to take any chance on her being swept overboard.

  He had pushed the raft down the beach until it was close to the water’s edge, and now he pushed it the final few feet. As soon as the front end reached the water, he could feel the current pulling at it. He gave a last hard shove, and barely managed to leap aboard before the water swept them away.

  He immediately realized that he had underestimated the power of the current. Despite the relatively placid surface, the water raced between the banks of the river. Jayn looked terrified, but she hugged Misstuh Tiduhlz close, murmuring to him in a reassuring voice as he shivered.

  Taraxan grabbed his makeshift rudder and did his best to guide the raft to the opposite shore. It was an uphill battle. The rushing water soon tore away most of the leaves from the branch, but he managed to steer them towards the center of the river.

  Then disaster struck.

  The raft scraped against a rock hidden beneath the surface and two of his logs came loose. The rest held together but the surface area had diminished considerably.

  Jayn looked back at him, her face pale and frightened, and he did his best to give her a confident smile.

  The current carried them onwards, but he continued to try and guide the raft towards the opposite shore. They hit another rock and lost another log. If they lost many more, Jayn and Misstuh Tiduhlz would be next.

  He looked at the diminishing raft and then at the riverbank, closer now but still a long distance away. He had to get them there before the raft disintegrated. His rudder was basically useless and he could only think of one alternative.

  Tossing the branch aside, he bent down next to Jayn.

  “Haf tuh swim,” he said slowly.

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head frantically. “No! I can’t.”

  “Naht yoo. Mee. Push.” He cursed his limited vocabulary as he tried to explain.

  “You’ve got to be kidding. If you can’t steer from up here, what makes you think you’d be able to direct the raft from the water?”

  Even as she spoke, the raft slammed into another rock and a log rolled away, taking half of their supplies with it.

  “Noh chois. Fien,” he assured her.

  Without waiting for her response, he tied his last section of vine around the log on which she sat and fastened the other end around his waist. As soon as it was secure, he lowered himself into the water.

  The surging current tore at his body, trying to pull him away from the raft, but he held on with grim determination. The water was surprisingly cold, and he wondered if it had come directly from the distant mountains.

  The raft was traveling parallel to the shore and he didn’t try to turn it. Instead, he allowed the current to carry them along as he started to kick, trying to angle them slowly towards the opposite side. At first it seemed to make little difference, but he refused to give in and slowly, so slowly, they began to move in the right direction.

  Time passed with interminable slowness. His arms ached from holding onto the raft, and his legs felt like lead weights, but he would not give up, paddling with dogged determination. He was so focused on kicking that the feel of sand beneath his feet caught him by surprise. They had made it!

  He could still feel the current tugging at him, but it was much weaker now as he pushed the remains of the raft towards the shore. Just as the front of the raft touched the beach, a shooting pain went through his calf. He looked down in time to see a long, dark reptile swimming away.

  “Dam-uht,” he muttered as pain radiated out from the bite.

  “What’s wrong?” Jayn peered back at him anxiously. “Do you want me to get out and help you push?”

  “Noh!” he said quickly. He couldn’t stand the thought of the reptile’s sharp teeth penetrating her delicate flesh.

  Pushing the raft further up the sand with the last of his strength, he finally decided that it was safe from the current. As he unfastened Jayn and Misstuh Tiduhlz, Misstuh Tiduhlz chittered angrily at him before disappearing towards the trees. Jayn shook her head, and then smiled up at Taraxan.

  “Poor Mr. Tiddles. I don’t think he enjoyed his first boat ride one little bit. I can’t say
I was a fan myself, but we made it.” She put her arms around his waist, then shivered. “Brr. I had no idea the water was that cold. You must be frozen.”

  “Fien,” he managed to say, but his teeth were chattering.

  “You’re not fine. We need to get a fire started so you can get dry and warm up.”

  Her voice sounded odd, as if it were far away, but her words gradually penetrated and he nodded. As he headed for the jungle to gather firewood, pain streaked up his leg with every step, but he refused to give into it. He had to take care of Jayn.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jane watched anxiously as Tarax slowly gathered branches for a fire. Once they were assembled, he tried his usual trick with the two rocks, but he couldn’t get the fire to catch.

  “Sahr-ee,” he apologized, his voice thick.

  “It’s fine. I just thought it would help you dry off. It’s certainly warm enough that we don’t need a fire.”

  But despite her confident words, she was worried. She could see his hands trembling as if he had a chill. Perhaps he needed nourishment.

  “I think I still have some fruit in my bag. You should eat some.”

  In her haste, she grabbed the wrong end of the bag and everything came tumbling out. She was starting to gather up the contents when he gave a hoarse cry and grabbed the metal cylinder that had been in the bag originally.

  Before she could ask what he was doing, he flipped open the top of the cylinder and a small flame appeared. As she watched in shock, he applied it to his pile of branches and a moment later, the fire was crackling merrily.

  “Fie-uhr,” he said with satisfaction, then slumped down beside it. She rushed over to check on him and realized he was sleeping, his breathing harsh but steady. He must have been more exhausted than she realized by the battle with the river, but she wished he hadn’t fallen asleep quite so quickly.

  Her brain whirled in confusion as she retrieved the cylinder. A firestarter. How had he known what it was? The entire time they had been together, there had been nothing to indicate he had any familiarity with advanced technology. Even his knife appeared to be little more than a basic weapon, although it must have been forged at some point.

  But if Taraxan recognized the firestarter, did that mean he was familiar with whoever had brought her here? Was he somehow in league with them?

  Even as the thought occurred, she dismissed it. She knew that he would never betray her—but he certainly had some explaining to do once he woke up. And no matter how difficult the language barrier, he was going to do just that before they moved another inch.

  Her desire for an explanation vanished as his condition deteriorated, and it soon became obvious that he was extremely ill. He had bouts of shivering so intense that his entire body shook, alternating with periods when his skin gleamed with sweat. He tossed and turned restlessly, muttering away in his own language.

  She didn’t want to go far from him, but she did her best to set up camp the way they usually did. During one of his more lucid periods, she managed to get him to move onto the pile of leaves she had gathered, then built a somewhat crooked shelter around him. There was little food left since most of their supplies had been swept away, but she had some smoked meat in her bag and she boiled it with some water in their cooking pouch. The next time he awoke, she scolded him into drinking some.

  As if he understood the seriousness of the situation, Mr. Tiddles had been her silent shadow all afternoon, helping when he could. Night fell and she shivered, cuddling him on her lap.

  “This is like the first night,” she told him. “I didn’t appreciate how much of a difference it makes to have Tarax around.”

  Mr. Tiddles chittered softly and patted her cheek. She gave a watery sniff and hugged him close. They sat in silence, watching the fire, and listening to Tarax moan in his sleep.

  He took a little more broth the next time he woke up, and then she finally gave into exhaustion and climbed in next to him. His skin was still fiery hot, but as soon as she laid down, he rolled over and pulled her against him.

  “Jayn,” he muttered, his eyes still closed. “Luhv Jayn.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. Had he said what she thought he had? And even if he had, how could she know that it wasn’t just the fever talking? Her logic didn’t prevent a warm glow of happiness from filling her.

  “I love you too,” she whispered as the knowledge rushed through her.

  She didn’t expect the words to penetrate his fever, but he rolled over and began kissing her with frantic urgency, his mouth hungry as he pried her lips apart and plundered her mouth. He suckled and nibbled at her neck before descending to her nipples, drawing them into his mouth with hard, sucking pulls that sent sparks of lightning straight to her clit. Sensations rocketed through her, his mouth and hands almost too rough, but creating so much fiery pleasure that she didn’t even think of protesting.

  He abandoned her breasts, leaving them achy and needy, and found her clit, laving the sensitive pearl with rough, urgent strokes of his tongue until a fast, hard climax swept over her, leaving her shaking. He growled and flipped her over, lifting her hips, then plunging into her in one powerful thrust. She was barely ready, but he didn’t even pause, setting a demanding pace that left her gasping helplessly, overwhelmed with pleasure.

  He growled again and yanked her hips higher, holding her in place so she could only receive his thrusts. His body dropped down over hers, his heat surrounding her as his mouth found her neck. His hand slid around to her clit, tugging demandingly at the hardened flesh until another climax seized her, her body shaking in endless waves of bliss. He grew impossibly larger inside her, then roared as hot liquid flooded her. His mouth returned to her neck and his teeth clamped down on the tender flesh, the sharp sting sending her into yet another climax.

  His body collapsed over hers, although he managed to keep most of his weight off of her.

  “Mie luhv,” he whispered, then fell back into a heavy sleep. She laid there, still quivering, her mind dazed, half buried beneath his big, hot body—and then she smiled.

  The fiery pain in Taraxan’s leg forced him awake, but his first thought was of Jayn. To his relief, he could feel her tucked against his side, but another memory kept trying to surface. Of her under him, rather than next to him. Most of the events of the previous evening were a hazy blur, but he had a sudden vivid memory of her luscious body beneath him as he plunged into the heated depths of her body, of her sweet blood washing over his tongue as he claimed her…

  As he claimed her?

  He rolled painfully to his side and brushed her long, dark hair away from her neck. He wanted to roar with triumph at the sight of his mark on her neck, but then reality washed over him. In his fevered state he had known only what he wanted. He couldn’t tell her that he had bonded with her without her knowledge. He wouldn’t force her to stay with him.

  As if she felt his gaze, Jayn’s eyes opened and she smiled up at him.

  “You’re awake! Are you feeling better?”

  No! I love you and I’m afraid you are going to leave me.

  But he could not say the words aloud. Instead, he focused on his physical condition. His fever had passed, but the wound in his leg still needed attention. He forced himself into a sitting position so he could examine the damage. Dark green and red streaks radiated out from the bite.

  “Mie leg iz in-fek-tuhd.”

  For a moment she looked startled, then horrified.

  “Oh my God. I thought you were just cold because of the water. What are we going to do? We don’t have any medicine.”

  “Fie-uhr,” he said grimly. He would have to cauterize the injury to stop the infection spreading.

  Her face turned completely white, but she nodded. ‘What do you need?”

  “Fie-uhr,” he repeated. “Nief.”

  “Oh God. All right.” She peered out through the entrance of the shelter. “The fire went out, but I think I can start it again. Especially now that I know we have a fi
restarter.” Her brows drew together in one of her adorable frowns. “And as soon as you’re better, we’re going to have to talk about exactly how you knew what it was. But for right now, I’ll gather some wood.”

  He wanted to protest as she slipped away—he hated the idea of her alone in the jungle—but he didn’t have the strength to follow.

  “Go with her,” he ordered Misstuh Tiduhlz, and the small creature scampered off.

  While they were gone, he dragged himself painfully out of the shelter. He was drenched with sweat by the time he reached the firepit, but as he waited for his body to recover, he replayed her words. Firestarter? Another hazy memory tried to surface and he groaned. It appeared that he wouldn’t be able to avoid the attempt to explain his origin much longer.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jane returned to find Tarax waiting by the firepit. He looked pale and sick, and her first rimpulse was to put her arms around him and tell him that she loved him. But he hadn’t repeated his words this morning. What if it had just been a fever dream? What if he hadn’t even known it was her?

  No, she decided. He had spoken her name too often for her to believe that.

  But there were still too many unanswered questions, including his knowledge of the firestarter. First they would heal him, then they would talk.

  She started the fire easily enough, then watched in dismay as he brought out his knife. He touched the flat side of the blade to the jagged looking wound on his leg, but even that slight pressure made him hiss with pain.

  “Prez heer,” he ordered, then thrust the knife into the flames.

  “Me?” Her voice shook with horror. It had been bad enough to know what he was going to do—she hadn’t realized that she would actually be the one to do it.

  He looked away from her. “Miet faynt.”

  She could see how much he hated to admit the possibility, and she gathered her courage.

  “All right. I’ll do it.”

  The blade was beginning to glow red as she took the handle from him.