Chapter 25

Lily

When I crack open my eyes next, I'm immediately blinded by the sunlight streaming in from the nearby window. Groaning, I try to shield my eyes, wincing at the bright sunrise. My body aches in a way I haven't felt in a long time, but it isn't an unwelcome sensation. I have a crick in my neck from sleeping on the sofa. I slowly stretch, trying to work out the kinks in my aching muscles. That's when memories from the last two days flood me.

Fumbling for my phone on the side table, I squint trying to read the time – it's early morning, the digits almost washed out against the dawn light. Images of yesterday's events flood back onto the surface of my mind. The alien. Ravok. His wounds. Removing the bullet. His… well… endowment… I would think that it's just a vivid dream, but I know better. There is a massive, injured, naked alien sleeping in my bed.

Despite knowing that it all really happened, I pad down the hall to where I left Ravok and Mango sleeping and peek inside the room.

He's still asleep.

Treading as lightly as I can, I sneak over to my suitcase, lying open on the dresser, and pick out fresh clothes, my mind a whirlwind.

The creaky floorboards have me holding my breath as I make my way toward the bathroom. Thank heavens for small mercies, I think as I softly turn the knob. I only partially close the door, needing to make sure I can hear if Ravok calls for me. I turn the knob to as hot as possible and brush my teeth as I wait for the water to heat. The sound of running water soon echoes in the confined space and steam starts to fog up the mirror.

Undressing, I step into the one-degree-less-than-scalding spray, sighing in relief as the water cascades onto my sore muscles. I feel like I lost a boxing match – everything hurts. Letting the shower cleanse me of dirt and my worries, I scrub every inch of my body.

Before too long, I'm toweling off, the momentary reprieve from the dangerous and bizarre situation creeping back onto me. Then I have a thought that stops me in my tracks. At the rate that Ravok is healing, I wonder how long it will be before he is back on his feet and ready to head back into space. The pang in my chest at the thought pulls me up short.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror momentarily, my heart pounding at the thought of Ravok leaving. "He's not a rescue you're picking up from the shelter, you stupid woman. He can't stay. He's in danger every moment he is here," I remind myself sternly. I need to be thankful that I've had this chance.

How many people in the world have had a chance to meet an alien? I hope I've been a good representative of my people. Although I think back to the scars littering Ravok's body and suspect I'm not the first human he's encountered.

With a sigh, I tie my hair into its usual messy bun before turning to grab my jeans.

A sudden pounding echoes from the front of the cabin, scaring me so bad I drop the jeans and almost pee myself. It shatters my moment of tranquility like a hammer to glass. Scrambling out of the bathroom, I grab my damp towel from the hook and wrap it around my body as I skid across the slippery tiles, nearly toppling over.

I sprint out of the bathroom, terrified that either someone will come inside and see Ravok or that my alien will make some noise to give away his presence. I skid to a stop in the doorway leading to the bedroom. Darting a glance into the room, I barely manage to stifle a startled gasp. Ravok's awake, alright. His snowy-white eyes are wide open, and something about his gaze strikes me as feral. His teeth are bared and he looks like he wants to leap out of the bed and kill something.

I mime for him to remain in place, placing a finger to my lips for silence. I try to keep my face calm, praying that Ravok understands. I straighten my shoulders, tugging the towel tighter around my body, and rush towards the front door.

As I approach, my heart pounding a phantom rhythm in my ears, I notice a silhouette through the door's glass. The form is familiar, and a whiff of relief washes over me.

"Koko," I breathe out, a relieved smile tugging at the corner of my lips. I didn't realize that I was bracing for the men in black to show up until I recognized her at the door. I'm so relieved I feel faint. I reach out, clutching the brass handle, and crack open the door.

Despite my relief, this could all still go horribly wrong and I'm so nervous that I feel like I'm made from a bowl of quivering jelly. "Koko. Good morning," I greet, wrapping the towel tighter around myself. My gaze darts behind me to make sure that Ravok has stayed put as I told him to. I also position myself to block her view inside.

"Oh, Lily, my dear," she starts, a blush of guilt coloring her cheeks as she takes in my lack of clothing, "I should've called before coming. I didn't mean to interrupt you."

The panic ebbs away as I coax a grateful smile onto my face. "No worries. You just caught me getting out of the shower," I tell her, pressing both palms tightly against the towel to hide my shaky hands. "I'm just glad to see you, is all. You didn't bring your dog with you?" Remembering Mango's reaction to the dog the last time, the last thing I need is either animal freaking out again.

Koko lifts a paper shopping bag, her face splitting into a sunny smile as she hands it over. "Oh, he wanted to come but made him stay home. Here are the clothes you requested, dear. I picked out the biggest size they had in stock."

I peer into the bag, my heart hammering again at the sight. It's a set of gray jersey clothes – sweatpants and a pullover hoodie – soft and comfortable looking but undeniably masculine in cut. "Koko… thank you. These are perfect."

She waves me off with a chuckle, her blonde curls bouncing with the motion. "Don't worry about that. You know… if you have a male guest, I don't mind as long as he treats you and the cabin well. I even included an extra toothbrush, just in case."

A laugh bursts from me, unexpected and nervous. "I assure you, Koko, there is no man." No human, at least. I can feel a blush creeping up my cheeks, probably making Koko think I'm lying.

"Well," she shrugs, throwing her hands out wide, "I've been known to be wrong before." A mischievous twinkle sparks in her eyes as she adds, "No harm, no foul, yes?" Her laugh dances through the morning air, carrying away my nerves alongside it.

Koko turns to leave but stops suddenly. "Oh! By the way, I saw Dr. Patel in town this morning – he runs the local hospital. When I told him about you, he said that they actually need a good nurse. You should send him your resume!"

"Oh, um. That is very kind of you. But I'm just passing through."

"I know, but it never hurts to try. Let me know if you change your mind! You would love it here. Lublin Harbor is a great place to live." Koko gives me a wide, hopeful grin that I don't know how to respond to.

Thankfully, she takes her leave after another quick apology for interrupting my morning, leaving me to deal with the continued bizarre unraveling of my usually mundane life. Alone again, I lean against the closed door, the bag slipping through my nerveless fingers to land unceremoniously onto the wooden floor, a strange laugh echoing from my lips.

I give myself a moment to breathe and calm down. There is no need to return to Ravok looking scared and flustered.

With a deep breath, I reach down for the forgotten bag. "I imagine he'll be relieved to cover up," I whisper to myself. It's almost a shame to cover that physique. Ravok makes Michelangelo's David look positively puny. I glance at the heather-gray knitted jersey, which is made of simple, soft-tone colors that I believe may complement his metallic skin tone. Running a hand nervously through my messy hair, I round the corner, bag in hand, and freeze.

In the narrow hallway leading to the single room of the cabin, Ravok stands – naked and unabashed. His skin gleams like graphite shavings under the soft glow of the light above his head. He takes up almost all of the hallway, flexed and looking ready to attack. Every muscle of his looks coiled, ready to spring into action, making my heart throb. Makes other things throb too. Ravok is a testament to raw male power.

The long black claws elongating from his hands are splayed menacingly, flexed and ready. His glowing eyes stare past me, looking intently towards the front door. The sight of him, fierce and brutal, hammers fear into my veins. I swallow, forcing down the lump forming in my throat. "Ravok?" I whisper, sending tremors of apprehension skimming down my spine.

My gaze drifts to his arm, the makeshift splint discarded at his feet. "Shit! Ravok, your arm," I say as I rush to his side. With an anxious sigh, I muster all my strength and attempt to tug Ravok towards the bathroom using his uninjured arm as a guide. My intention is clear as I gesture towards his injured arm. Despite my efforts, he remains unmoving, an unyielding statue that towers over me. Exasperated, I step back, attempting a different approach.

"Look, mister," I say calmly, pointing at him and then towards the front door. A series of gestures follow, like an impromptu game of charades, each trying to convey that we are safe. "We are alone. No one else here. Safe." I hope he gets the message, knowing it's a long shot. He doesn't look convinced. He looks like he's about to hulk out.

"Ravok," I say again, louder this time, trying to reign in my scattered thoughts. The clothes in my hand suddenly feel ridiculously inadequate to cover this alien being's captivating physique. But I don't have time for that now. Getting his attention is paramount before whatever frenzy grips him escalates further. It's time to slip into Nurse Mode again, placing fear aside.

"Easy, easy," I coo, my voice barely a whisper as I step closer, my gaze straying to his arm, which I'd splinted what felt like ages ago. "You've taken off the splint. That's not wise, Ravok."

There's a stubborn set to his jaw, a defiance shining in his eyes that tells me loud and clear he doesn't care one bit about my opinions on alien healthcare. Swallowing down a sigh, I offer a slight shrug. "Alright. Would you feel better if you saw for yourself that we are alone?"

I grasp Ravok's strange, silver hand with a cautious yet determined air. His touch sends goosebumps down the length of my arm, but I don't let it deter me. He blinks down at me, the confusion flickering in his glowing eyes undeniably potent.

"C'mon, big guy." I coax gently, slipping my arm around Ravok's waist, trying to support his towering frame as best I can. I tuck myself into his side in case he needs assistance, and we shuffle towards the living room. His glowing eyes dart around the cabin, warily scanning each corner, each shadow, every crevice and object, like a wary predator. As if he expects trouble to leap out from the shadows. Upon reaching the living room, I motion for him to sit on the sofa. His gaze probes around the room, keenly assessing everything and occasionally flicking back to me with a silent kind of questioning.

Eventually, seeming satisfied that we're safe or maybe just too weary to keep up his defenses, he succumbs, allowing me to guide him to the couch. With a grunt, he lowers himself onto it, every movement causing him discomfort. I bring up a finger, silently commanding him to remain there. Once I'm confident he is settled, I grab my first aid kit, set it on the coffee table before us, and sink into the cushions beside him.

With a trembling hand, I raise it to examine the arm he'd so recklessly freed from its splint. My heart races, not from fear, but from the uncertainty of what I might find. If he re-injured himself, I'm going to be upset.

A small gasp escapes me as I check him over, my brow furrowing in amazement. His arm is… fine. Actually, it's more than fine. From what I can tell, it looks as if it's completely healed. I skim my hand over the once swollen and discolored skin, the muscle beneath firm and apparently unaffected by the terrible break I knew it had suffered. As I palpitate the area, I can tell by the clenching of Ravok's jaw that it is still tender.

"What… how is this possible?" I wonder aloud. I know that he heals at an accelerated rate, but I can't seem to wrap my brain around it yet. His eyes don't hold any answers, just a calm acceptance of the miracle before us. An acceptance so casual makes me wonder what else I don't know about Ravok, this alien who crash-landed in my quiet, boring world. I'm reeling from the surreal reality of the alien breathing beneath my hands.

As the panic sweat starts to dry on my skin, I begin to feel a little chilly. I quickly stack a couple of logs and kindling in the fireplace and get a fire started.

My breath hitches in my throat as I turn back to Ravok. The quiet cabin, the soft glow of the fire casting long, intimate shadows. And a completely naked alien man, the warm light of the fire limning him like a dark glimmering statue.

I mime that I want to check the rest of his injuries. Kneeling on the hard floor, I reach for Ravok's foot. "I'll be gentle," I promise, giving him a cautious glance, his white pupil-less eyes watching my every move with a grudging curiosity. I can sense his discomfort despite his best attempts to hide it.

Very slowly and gently, I rotate his ankle. Even though the area is still slightly swollen, his skin has thankfully lost its sickening shade of purplish black. His ankle still seems a little stiff and tender, but it's showing fantastic improvement. If I thought he wouldn't reject it again, I'd grab the bag of frozen veggies to lay on his ankle, but one look at the stubborn tilt of his chin and I know better.

I sit down next to him, my knees brushing against his hard thigh, needing to tend to the rest of his injuries.

From the moment I saved him, to nursing him back to health, we've shared this strange, inescapable intimacy. I've touched him more times than I can count – but it's different now, somehow. Maybe it's how his luminescent eyes watch me without pain marring his gaze, a silent type of attention that invades my senses and makes my heart pound in a way I can't quite describe. Or perhaps it's the low crackle of the fire, its intimate warmth coiling around us.

Inhaling deeply, I peel back the bandage on his side that hides the bullet wound. I gasp because the wound looks weeks old, not days.

"Wow…" I stammer out as my fingers graze the edges of his wound.

When I try to reapply the bandage, Ravok plucks it from my fingers, setting it aside. I give him an annoyed look, but he just returns my look with a flat stare. His lips twitch as if he's trying not to smile in the face of my ire. I roll my eyes at my stubborn patient to make sure he understands that I see through him. Then, I have him lean forward so I can check the exit wound on his lower back. It looks as well healed as its counterpart. With hesitant fingers, I trace the subtly glittering pewter skin around the rapidly-healing wound.

I gingerly help Ravok lean back against the sofa cushion, his tall frame dwarfing me. His expression is stoic, but I can see the veiled pain throbbing in those luminescent eyes of his.

"May I?" I ask, pointing to the wound on his shoulder. We might not speak the same language, but respect is universal.

He offers a slight nod. I take that as a green light. Peeling back the bandage from his shoulder, I stare at the healing wound.

Last night, the injury was a ghastly gash that I was terrified was going to become infected. I shouldn't even be surprised at the rate Ravok is healing, but my mind can't process it. It is not as far along as the other wounds in regard to recovery, but he is healing in days what takes months for most humans. Lucky bastard.

In the hushed stillness of the room, I grab a fresh bandage from my first aid kit. Rippling muscles tense under my touch as I clean and sterilize the wound, hurriedly yet as gently as possible.

"Hold on, Ravok," I murmur, his alien name rolling off my tongue. "Almost done."

This time, he allows me to apply a fresh bandage. I want to say something snarky, but it would be lost on Ravok anyway. His intimidating gaze softens as he silently watches me work.

I realize that I have been resting one of my hands on his shoulder when it flexes under my hand. There is a part of me that wants to linger. I've never been this close to someone as muscular as Ravok.

The fact that I am kneeling almost across the body of a giant naked alien covered only by a damp towel isn't lost on me. However, I force myself to pull away.

In the hallway, I spot the paper bag holding Ravok's clothes where I'd dropped it earlier. Motioning him to wait, I hurry over to it and bring it bag to him. While there, I pick up the scattered remains of the splint. I hand the clothes to him, hoping he'll be pleased. His hands dip into the bag, metallic skin glinting slightly in the dim lighting.

Slowly, he pulls out the oversized hoodie, his questioning gaze meeting mine. A small smile tugs at my lips.

"Clothes for Ravok," I explain slowly. The words hang in the air, as Ravok looks from the hoodie back to me.

"Leelee…" Ravok's voice trails off as he pulls the sweatpants from the bag. His silvery eyebrows furrow as he handles the strange piece of attire.

"For Ravok," I say simply, my smile encouraging. I point to the sweatpants, then to him, hoping the message is clear.

Relief washes over me as he finally starts to pull on the pair of pants. Ravok groans as he leans over to slide the pants over his feet, so I stop him with a hand on his arm. I kneel on the floor and hold the pants so he can thread his large feet into the leg holes.

"Not that I'm against you staying naked – because let's be real here, it's one hell of a view – but for my libido's sake we should keep you covered," I tell him, winking playfully. He doesn't understand me so I can be honest without worry. He looks almost startled at my wink, making me cackle like a witch.

Leaning over Ravok's lap, I help slide the sweatpants up his legs and over his lap. Ravok gives a deep, growly grunt as he slowly lifts his hips, so I know it hurts. I quickly, but with care, work to slide the pants over his hips, trying not to jostle him. I stifle a gasp when I realize that I am almost face down in Ravok's lap, hovering mere inches away from his cock as I try to help him pull on the sweatpants. My eyes want to look down, but I force my concentration onto his flexing abdomen which is only marginally better for my hormones. Despite my best efforts, I'm hyperaware of his maleness in my peripheral vision. I inhale sharply and my senses are flooded with his scent. He smells just like a regular man – salt, skin, a slight musk with an almost metallic undertone. My throat dries and my mouth floods with saliva – an involuntary, raw reflection of my bodily response to the proximity of him. I love giving head. There is nothing like the feeling of a thick, hard cock in my mouth; of driving a guy completely wild with my mouth. Ugh, I love it.

We finally get the sweatpants over his hips, and I sit back on my heels, trying to recover my equilibrium. One glance at his lap confirms that I can still easily see the outline of his dick through the jersey material.

I can feel a red-hot blush rush to my face. If I were wearing panties, they'd be damp, but I am still only wrapped in a towel. Oh god, I am a no-good, dirty pervert.

I get to my feet and pull the hoodie out of the bag. I hold it up to compare it to the breadth of Ravok's shoulders. I'm relieved when I see that it should fit him.

I'm a little amazed – and definitely thankful – that Koko provided clothes that fit my massive alien guest.

I step forward, my hands extending to hold out the hoodie for Ravok. "Here, let me help you with this," I say, pointing to tell him to guide his arms into the holes.

Ravok points at the fire, then at the bandage on his shoulder, growling a rapid set of words I can't possibly decipher. When he points at the hoodie, shaking his head, he says, "No, Leelee."

Ravok's luminous eyes fixate on the hoodie in my hands; his sharp brow furrows as I extend it towards him. "It's called a hoodie. It'll keep you warm," I try to explain, fully aware of the absurdity of arguing with an alien who can't understand my words.

Ravok glares at me, shaking his head, his skin glowing a darker shade of silver. A low, annoyed-sounding growl builds up in his chest, echoing around the small cabin. He tends to growl and snap his teeth at me, but I notice that he seems to take care in not making any actual threatening moves towards me, so his ire doesn't scare me.

Somewhere within me, a spark of defiance kindles to life. Maybe it's the exhaustion, or maybe the insanity of my situation, but I push back. With my heart pounding, I growl back, mirroring his rumbling sounds. Unyielding, he simply crosses his arms over his massive chest, growling louder. He bares his teeth at me. They glint ominously under the cabin's lights. Startled at his audacity, I gasp out, "Don't you bare your teeth at me, Ravok."

Then Ravok raises his arm, demonstrating that he can barely lift it perpendicular to his torso.

Throwing my hands up in the air, I huff out a breath, "Fine! But don't come complaining to me if you get a chill." I drop the hoodie on the coffee table and pick up the splint. I approach Ravok, intending to put it back on his arm when he growls at me again. "What? We need to keep it immobile for a little bit longer. I want to make sure it heals properly."

I approach him with the splint, and he growls at me again. I prop my fist on my hip and give him my best ‘stern nurse' face. "Ravok! We need to put this on you. It's just to support your healing."

He gives me a look that reminds me of a stubborn toddler refusing to eat his veggies. Ravok shakes his head and says a series of deep, growly words I can't possibly interpret. But the meaning is clear: He is refusing to wear the splint.

It's not like I could wrestle it onto him – even if it is for his own good.

I stomp a foot and throw my hands up in defeat, dropping the splint on the coffee table next to the hoodie. Then I march out of the room with as much dignity as possible while only being clad in a damp towel and sporting a messy bun. Just before I turn the corner and head into the bathroom, I look back at Ravok. I get the distinct impression that he finds me and my anger amusing. I narrow my eyes at him, letting him know he's officially gotten on my last nerve.

He watches me intently, his glowing eyes capturing mine once more. "Grroz ferruckt, Leelee." I'm assuming that he's saying, ‘Thank you, Lily. You're always right and I should listen to you more. I appreciate everything you've done for me. You're the best.'

I can't stay annoyed now. Plus, it's really charming how he says my name. It sounds exotic in that deep, growly voice. His voice is like gravel but somehow still as smooth as silk, with a hint of gratefulness gracing his tone. I can't help but blush under his gaze. I hope he doesn't realize I've been perving on him while he's stuck with me and vulnerable.

"I know, Ravok. You're welcome. Let me get some clothes on and I'll make us some breakfast."