Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

A loud squeal sounded from the jungle, and Jane twisted her hands together nervously as she waited for Tarax to return from what she thought was a hunting trip.

As soon as they left the pool, he had started setting up camp. He had dragged a number of the large leaves out of the jungle to prepare a bed—one of which she had immediately appropriated to create another makeshift dress. He frowned disapprovingly, but she ignored him. Naked in the pool or in his arms was one thing. Naked in a jungle clearing was another. Not that she wanted him to get dressed, she thought, admiring the tight muscles of his ass as he stalked away.

But he hadn't stopped with preparing a bed. He had also retrieved tall branches and more leaves to make a sort of teepee over the bed. Apparently they were stopping here for the rest of the day. She didn't really object, even though it meant it would take longer to reach her destination. And the thought of what might happen when they were tucked away in their shelter sent a quiver of arousal straight to her clit. Tarax's head lifted, his nostrils flaring as he looked at her, and she blushed. His eyes gleamed gold, but he returned to his tasks.

A small, brazen part of her was tempted to saunter over to him, take him by the hand, and lead him to that soft bed of leaves. She had never experienced this before—this urgency, this need—but the very strength of her desire made her nervous. Her mother's lectures about proper behavior echoed through her head, but she did her best to ignore them. She wanted Tarax, and if she didn't quite have the courage to approach him now, she had no intention of turning him away tonight.

The memory of the massive head of his cock pressing into her entrance made her shiver with pleasure—and the tiniest hint of trepidation—but she resolutely pushed it aside. Later.

Her eyes traveled back to where he was working, his big body crouched down to clear moss from a circle of ground in the center of the clearing. Once the ground was clear, he began gathering small branches and arranging them in a pyramid. She clapped her hands together excitedly as she finally understood what he was doing.

"Are you building a fire?"

Despite the warmth of the jungle air, there was something reassuring and civilized about the idea of a fire.

He tilted his head, then nodded. "Fie-uhr," he agreed.

"That you understood?" she muttered. He was obviously learning her language much faster than she was learning his.

Even though she had tried to reproduce the names of the plants he had taught her, her throat just wasn't equipped to make those deep, growling sounds. He'd had to resort to sign language when he told her that he was going to hunt. Or at least she hoped that's what he meant when he mimicked plunging his knife into something.

Now, another squeal echoed through the jungle, followed by the loud thrashing of bushes. It sounded scarily close, but the vegetation was too thick for her to see anything. Mr. Tiddles climbed up on her lap and patted her cheek reassuringly, but she couldn't help worrying.

What if something happened to Tarax? The thought made her heart skip a beat—and it wasn't just because he was providing her with guidance, she acknowledged. Or even that she was insanely attracted to him physically. Even though she had only known him a short time, something about him drew her to him like a moth to a flame.

He belongs here and I'm going back to Earth. Stop being ridiculous, she told herself, but she still sighed with relief when he emerged from the jungle, a carcass slung over his shoulder.

"Oh thank goodness you're back."

He flashed her his fierce grin, then dropped the body he was carrying to the ground. It had a small head and a long, round body with short, stubby legs. It might have looked ridiculous, except for the oversized tusks projecting from its lower jaw. She decided that it somewhat resembled a wild boar—that is if boars had long, blue fur.

Tarax wasted no time, but quickly and efficiently began skinning the animal. Jane had to look away. She preferred her meat from the supermarket, thank you very much. And yet she couldn't help but long for a change from the fruit, no matter how delicious. Gathering her courage, she went to join him.

"Can I help?" she asked tentatively.

Tarax shook his head, already gutting the animal. He removed one of the organs and offered it to her expectantly. She backed away so quickly she tripped over her own feet.

"No! I mean, thank you very much, but I just can't."

He frowned, then shrugged and bit into the morsel with sharp white fangs. She shuddered. Mr. Tiddles had been watching intently and now he patted Tarax's leg, looking up at him with big hopeful eyes. Tarax laughed and handed him a piece. The two of them split the rest of the organs, although Tarax offered each one to her first.

When they were finished, Mr. Tiddles rubbed his round little belly, found a sunny spot by the pool, and curled up and went to sleep. She watched him enviously.

"I hope you plan on cooking some of that," she muttered, looking hopefully at the pile of wood.

Right now, Tarax seemed preoccupied with cutting the meat into long thin strips.

He had placed the skin of the animal to one side and as she studied it, she wondered if it would be a sturdier replacement for her leaf outfits. She drew a little closer, fighting back a wave of squeamishness at the traces of flesh that still clung to the inside. But when she touched a tentative finger to the fur, it was as soft as it appeared.

"Tarax," she asked tentatively. "Can you show me how to prepare the skin?"

She realized as soon as she spoke that she had no way of knowing whether or not he knew how to work with the fur. He certainly didn't seem to have any desire for clothing himself.

He had looked over to her as soon as she spoke, and she carefully picked up the skin, holding it in front of her in an attempt to mime her intentions.

"I thought maybe I could make some clothing out of it."

He raised an eyebrow, and she was suddenly sure exactly what he was thinking. He would be perfectly happy if she remained naked.

"I would feel more comfortable if I had some clothes," she said firmly. "Please?"

He shook his head and grumbled something, but he abandoned his carcass and came to join her. Choosing a relatively straight-edged rock from the ones that lined the edge of the pool, he showed her how to scrape it across the underside of the fur to remove the last traces of flesh.

She had secretly hoped that asking him for assistance would result in him actually doing it for her, but it was only fair that she should participate. Doing her best to hide her disgust, she set to work. By the time he had finished butchering the boar thing, the inside of the skin was as clean as she could make it. He inspected it, then gave her an obviously approving smile. A feeling of satisfaction washed over her. Maybe she could handle this wild environment after all.

He started threading the strips of meat he had prepared onto long thin branches, and buoyed by her success with the fur, she went to help him. Now that it was in strips, the meat was similar enough to something she would have bought from the supermarket that she didn't mind assisting. As soon as all the meat had been skewered, he took the laden branches to where the water from the pond trickled out the far side, and washed them thoroughly.

Picking up an assortment of rocks, he struck them against each other until he found two that created a small spark. A short time later, a fire was burning merrily in the cleared circle. He retrieved one branch of meat strips and hung it over the fire. Her stomach rumbled as the delicious smell of roasted meat filled the clearing.

By the time he pulled the branch off the fire, her mouth was watering. She burned her fingers and then her mouth, but it was worth it. The meat did taste rather like roast pork, and it was absolutely delicious. It wasn't until she finally filled her stomach that she looked up and saw him watching her with an odd expression on his face. She blushed.

"I'm sorry. I was just so hungry. I didn't eat too much, did I?"

He shook his head, and she wondered again whether he was really beginning to understand her words or if he was simply responding to the question in her voice. Before she could explore that thought further, he went to gather the rest of the meat laden branches. These he hung higher over the fire, then covered everything with damp leaves to trap the smoke inside. She realized that he was attempting to preserve the meat, and admiration filled her.

"It's just amazing that you can do all of these things. If we had more time, I'd ask you to teach me… Although actually, I guess I really don't know how much time we have left together." The thought was curiously disheartening, and she went to retrieve her map.

"How long?" she asked, pointing to the small blue circle that she hoped indicated her path home, then waving her hand over what she thought was her arrival point. "Where are we now?"

He studied her face, then indicated a point on the map between her original location and the river. They had covered perhaps two thirds of the distance.

"So another day, perhaps, until we reach the river?"

Assuming that the map was to scale, it looked as if her destination was an equal distance on the other side of the river. That meant perhaps four more days with Tarax. Her heart suddenly ached. It didn't seem like enough time—she wasn't ready to let him go so quickly.

Tarax growled a question at her, pointing to the map and then to the far side of the clearing. She decided he was asking her if she wanted to resume their journey.

"I'm fine with waiting until tomorrow," she said. "This seems like a good spot to spend the night. You can smoke your meat, and I can take another swim in the pool before we set out again." To reinforce her meaning, she pointed to the edge of the clearing, shook her head, then patted the ground.

He flashed his fierce smile at her before turning to check on the smoking meat, and she knew she was smiling too as she went to put the map away.