Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23383 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23383 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
He’s beautiful. And hot. I mean, okay, yes, sexy hot, but also just hot. Waves of heat pulse off of him and it shakes the chill away for a moment.
Through the unflattering way his face is distorted, the tusks and the forehead jutting out over deep eye sockets, I see it.
His being. His pain.
He’s growling as he releases the handle, staying crouched as my eyes linger on the darkness between his legs. He’s wearing thick, leather pants, hand stitched along the seams with black cording. His chest is criss-crossed with the traditional thick leather and metal adorned straps but it’s his face that I cannot pull my gaze from.
“You wash. I cook. Then, we eat.”
“Together?” I blurt trying to control the heavy bucket onto the dirt floor.
He pinches his brow, a tilt of his head telling me he’s not sure what I’m asking. His long, leather bound sort of ponytail slips over his shoulder.
“Will you eat with me? Come down here if you want. I know I’m not supposed to be out. But,” I add a shrug, guilty that I’m playing a game but knowing I don’t know how much time I have. “We could still eat together down here, right?”
He considers that with a low grunt, rubbing his fingers over his forehead with a twisted scowl. I’m not above using my body to save my life, I tell myself. I’ve not kept my purity for any reason other than I wasn’t interested enough in anyone to give it a second thought. But with Oran, there’s a draw. I feel it and I see he does as well.
This is his Achilles’ heel. I just have to figure out how to work things to my advantage. I should feel disgust toward him, and I do. He is part of whatever is happening to my family but somehow, this goes deeper, and I have to put together the missing pieces. If it takes putting my V card on the table, so be it. I’m not saving it for some white dress and picket fence. I’d rather use it as a bargaining chip.
I count as he stays silent. If I can get him down here with me, maybe I can figure out how to get out…
“I will bring the food down in with you. I have good, cooked meat and warmed bread. I tried to grill broccoli…” He looks over his shoulder then back at me. “Broccoli doesn’t grill. But, I heard it was good for humans.”
I shrug, a little flutter in my belly that he wanted to cook something good for me. “It’s okay. Not a fan.”
He nods on a grunt taking a long sniff of the air, grimacing like there’s something painful attacking him from the inside. My nipples tingle and poke at my t-shirt and his eyes seem to know what I’m feeling because he lowers his head a few inches, licking his lips, then one of his tusks as he pushes to his feet, eyes locked on my chest.
Crossing my arms, heat prickles over my skin. I blow a strand of hair off my face as he takes one more long inhale, then spins and stomps toward the fire. I splash my face with the water, rub my hands together and try to clear my head.
I’ve known a few orcs since they arrived on Earth and the wars and battles settled with them here in the northwest. Most were indifferent toward me, although I admit, they are not big on boats for whatever reason. Still, I can’t say I was all that interested in them either.
I accepted them. Felt like they got a raw, hairy deal in the whole snatched up by aliens, tortured, altered, enslaved…but there is this triumph on the end. There was some good on the planet. When they finally found a way to rise up, there were members of the alien race that helped them. Helped them fight, then helped them come home.
I only know what I’ve read, I’ve never confirmed anything with an orc directly, but this one, this Oran, he’s different. Something happened to him. Something worse than the others I think. He’s larger, sure, but darker and more…I don’t know. Separate maybe?
I shake my head as the sound of him clanking tools on the fire grate and the smell of the barbecued meat distract me from the tingling in my lady bits and the way I keep wondering if what I’ve heard about orcs is true.
Double tongues and double dicks. Or something like that.
“It’s ready.” Oran is back, standing with the hot meat and bread in his hands as he steps to the edge of the pit and jumps.
“Shit!” I stumble backwards as the ground shakes at his landing. His shoulders and head are taller than the depth of the pit and being this close, it’s as close as I’ve come to fear in a long time.