Page 8 of Caveman Alien's Touch

“Yes, we should wash this off us,” I repeat as I notice many small specks of dactyl blood on the backs of my hands. I let go of Noker’s shoulder strap, feeling steadier. “Come, I’ll show you.”

“Just a moment,” he rumbles and takes the cork off the pot again. “Let us strengthen ourselves again. Only this once.” He gives me the pot, and I take a couple of sips to try to wash the taste of the poison out of my mouth. The booze spreads a pleasant warmth inside me.

Noker barely touches the pot to his mouth, so his gesture was all for me. He has a caring streak, this one.

We make our way through the village to the far side, where a thick, wooden pipe comes out of the palisade from the outside. Bryar’s wondrous pump is not being worked right now, which suits me fine.

“This water clean,” I explain. “Look.” I work the rattling handle of the primitive iron contraption a couple of times, and a thin stream of water comes out. Putting my mouth right under the spout, I gulp some down, again trying to wash away the lingering taste of the poisonous sap. “That’s better.”

Somehow the terror from the irox attack is already gone. I think it didn’t last long enough to traumatize me — Noker dealt with it almost before it registered that I was about to die. And I suppose the euphoria that’s filling me now is a normal reaction to having escaped death.

Noker gets the point of the pump and starts working the handle so I can take my hand off it.

“You jump very high,” I tell him as I rinse my hands. “And then kill irox so easily!”

Noker slaps his thigh. “I’m part Big, and that comes with both a strange head and thick legs. When I was a boy, I jumped everywhere instead of walking. But Shaman Melr’ax didn’t like it, so I learned to walk normally.”

“May I?” Without waiting for an answer, I reach out and touch his thigh, right above the knee. It’s like touching a rock clad in warm silk. “Very strong leg!”

Noker doesn’t recoil from my touch, just flexes his thigh so it moves under my hand. “At least it’s useful for killing irox. But it’s better to avoid them altogether. We got lucky back there.”

I playfully slide my hand a half inch higher up until it’s just under the hem of his rough loincloth. “It was nice to see you fight it.” I’m not sure where those words come from, but I realize that it’s true — itwaspretty cool to see this Foundling demonstrate his breathtaking ability to keep me safe from one of the worst dangers on Xren. I’m not sure how much of this feeling is because of the booze he gave me, but after years in underground tunnels with only other girls for company, it’s surprisingly intoxicating to be protected by a strong and capable caveman.

“It was nice to do,” he rumbles as his eyes pierce me. I swear there’s a new bulge in his loincloth that moves and twitches.

I slide the hand off him and quickly look around. This spot is pretty secluded, hidden behind a grove of fruit trees and a gentle hill where the Lifegivers enclosure is located. I would be happier if there was some kind of screen around the pump area, but I’ll suggest it to Bryar so that we girls can take showers here without worrying about being ogled by tribesmen. But being ogled by Noker wouldn’t bother me much right now.

I quickly yank the sweatshirt off me and bend down to be under the spout of the pump. The cool water splashes off my back, and I scrub my hands and arms to get rid of the dactyl blood. Satisfied, I straighten and pretend to look away, so that the Foundling can get a look at my bare chest. I wasn’t wearing a bra when I was abducted, and none of the girls have seen much reason to make them.

His eyes practically sear a track in my skin. It sends delicious little tingles to my center. I was never like this before, but here and now, with this particular male, some deliberate immodesty feels exactly right. The constant, low-level fear from the tunnel years is gone, and there is room for something else in my mind now. Something bright and life-affirming like this, maybe.

I shift my stance to make my boobs jiggle a little. It’s not like I was ever particularly blessed in that area, what with my pear-shaped body, but it’s also not as if Noker has a lot to compare me to.

I turn back towards him and smile. “Now you.”

He averts his eyes and sticks one foot into the water stream. “That feels good.”

“Good and cool,” I agree and squat down to help scrub his massive foot. Yep, that booze he gave me was stronger than I thought.

I quickly work my way up the leg, trying to ignore the now quite scandalous tent he’s pitching in that loincloth. “This better, yes? Irox blood gone now.”

“Much better,” he says, voice raspy as my hands graze the lower edge of his loincloth, gently scrubbing their way higher until they’re out of sight.

But this is getting too blatant, so I let go of that leg and start on the other. When I’m done, the dactyl blood is mostly gone from his legs.

I look him over. “No blood on back, only on front.”

He looks me up and down. “And on you, only the face.”

I gather water in my cupped hands and splash my face with it. “Is gone?” I ask when I wipe it off.

Noker reaches over and uses his fingertips to help. His touch is so gentle and delicate that my brain can’t process it — he’s an eight-foot-tall caveman with scars and stripes, and it shouldn’t be possible for him to be this delicate. His fingers are sowarm, warmer than regular body temperature.

Hard tingles suddenly shoot down my back, making me shudder.

“Too cold?” he asks.

“No, is just… feels nice,” I tell him honestly.

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