Iain wondered what she’d heard through the translation, and then he got distracted, glancing down from her face to…

“Does that seem something weird to you?” he asked.

“I have not idea what it means,” Cygnus admitted. ’Zos aren't much help there.”

“I wasn’t the one who came up with it,” he started.  “I'm not finding ’zos much use at all.”

“Okay,” she replied, then glanced at where his gaze was directed. Then her tone changed. “Oh… you’re a male, aren’t you?”

He looked back up into her gaze. It was starting to become clearer to Iain Cygnus might not be as human as she looked, given the shade of her skin and the alienness of those eyes of hers. But he still held out some hope it was simply the effects of his being woken up after twenty two thousand years. He’d been rather out of it, maybe he still was.

“Yes, of course,” he said, then grew worried. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I don’t know, where you were just staring?” she told him, then pointed at her chest. He had to admit his eyes had been drawn there, repeatedly. “I guess you are going to want to touch them now.”

“Excuse me,” Iain asked, trying to keep his eyes on her face. He noticed even her eyebrows were corn rowed like all her hair . He struggled with the desire not to be a gentleman at all. And she also just might be a cannibal, after all. Although, since they might not be the same species, could it be called cannibalism? Shit, those damn things in his head.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Go ahead,” Cygnus invited, the edge of her mouth crooking. “I know you’re not going to stop thinking about them until you do. Males are all the same, doesn’t matter the species. Just be gentle.”

He gaze narrowed with suspicion.

“You don’t have retractable claws, do you?”

“No, no, no” he replied, realizing he was grinning, and tried to stop, wasn’t sure he succeeded. He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. “Just fingers and well trimmed nails.”

She nodded and he reached out to touch her.

“Just one,” she advised. He retracted his left hand and touched her right breast with his right hand. It was warm and supple, seemingly very real, very human. She reacted by taking in a breath, adjusting her stance, and offering maybe a touch of a smile, he wasn’t completely sure on that point. Hell, with those parasites in his brain, what could he be sure of?

“Can I touch the other one?” he asked. She nodded. It felt much the same.

“Okay,” she said, then after a few seconds pushed his hand away. “That’s enough. My turn.”

“What?” he asked.

“Take your clothes off, Iain Compton,” she told him, pointed at her naked body with both hands. “You get to see this and get to touch this. I get to do the same. Right?”

Iain felt a sudden rush of self-consciousness, but also realized that that was fair and also might lead to sex a lot sooner than he expected. And it wasn’t like anyone else was watching. So he took off his clothes, occasionally glancing at Cygnus to gauge her opinion of his perhaps not perfect example of a human male.  And it was chilly down here.  He was kind of aroused, but still, chilly.

She walked around him, and he stood still, jumping slightly when he felt something cold against his behind.

“Problem?” she said as she came around from the other side.

“Cold hands,” he said.

“Cold sleep,” she replied. “They’ll warm up soon. Eventually. Hopefully.”

She glanced below his waist where there was a clear reaction.

“You definitely are a male,” she noted, pursing her lips. She looked back up into his eyes raised an eyebrow. “Can I… touch it?”

“Just be gentle,” he replied, then felt a little worried, apprehensive. “You don’t have retractable claws either? Do you?”

“No,” she replied, sounding definitely amused at the thought though. “Not when I last checked.”