Page 17 of Gentle Giant

When he stepped even closer, his warm breath wafted in my face. Why was his breath minty? I doubted he had toothpaste stashed in the cavern, but maybe he chewed mint leaves or something similar. He’d smiled at me a few times, and his teeth were white and appeared clean.

I flushed when I realized I was critiquing his hygiene so closely. I shouldn’t allow myself to notice anything pleasing about him. I should be completely repulsed by the creature who’d kidnapped me simply on the grounds that he was a… dirty, filthy no-good kidnapper. I sighed inwardly. My inabilityto convince myself that he was a terrible person, or too gross and unhygienic to consider mating with, was making it harder and harder to seriously contemplate my escape.

He seemed to care about those under his leadership, and the Starblessed appeared to be a smooth-functioning tribe. I peered down the river. His people were still working diligently, and everyone seemed to have a place as they worked in groups or individually depending upon the task.

A female nursing a baby rested on a fallen tree, and over a dozen children sat on the ground before her, staring up at her as she spoke to them. Perhaps she was telling them a story. This far away, I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but then I remembered that even if I were closer I wouldn’t understand her words. I didn’t speak Sasquatch. Montikaan. Starblessed. Whatever it was called.

Even if I wanted to stay with Brutus, we were too different to make it work. He ate banana slugs, grasshoppers, and raw fish, and I ate cheeseburgers and pizza and the occasional piece of kale. He slept in a cave, and I slept in a house, or an apartment. He walked around buck nekkid and I wore clothes.

Not that I minded his nakedness very much…

My face heated and I tried very hard not to look at his crotch.

It had stopped misting, though the wind was becoming stronger, and as it ruffled Brutus’s fur, it accentuated the lines of his chest and biceps. My mouth went dry, and I became lightheaded as an ache built between my thighs. I prayed the wind would blow the scent of my arousal away before he had a chance to detect it.

When his eyes glowed bright white and he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring wide, I almost groaned with frustration. But as he stepped forward and the tip of his hardened shaft pressed to my stomach, I forgot why his ability to detect my arousal bothered me, and my irritation quickly faded.

All I could think about was how large and warm and solid his cock had felt in my hand when I’d drunkenly groped him yesterday. His length had pulsed in my grip and his breath had caught in his throat as I’d squeezed him.

My pulse fluttered as I recalled how I hadn’t managed to wrap my hand entirely around his thick, swollen cock.

He lifted one hand from my shoulder to cup my face, just like in my dreams. The dreams that always left me aching and filled with longing.

His eyes gleamed with tenderness as he peered down at me, his thumb stroking lazy circles on my cheek. His touch was both intimate and possessive, and my head prickled with sensation when his other hand delved into my hair. He carefully brushed his fingers through my tangled locks, his movements so gentle that he didn’t cause me to wince once. Given the thickness of my hair, that was saying something.

The howls of the Montikaan males on the river, the laughter of children, and the murmur of voices in the distance faded. All at once, Brutus and I were the last two people on Earth. The moment felt magical, and I could’ve sworn it wasn’t a coincidence that the sky suddenly cleared and the sun came out.

“You are so beautiful, Hailey,” he said in a voice deeper and gruffer than usual, “and I cannot help but wonder what you look like without your clothing.” He pressed his thumb harder upon my cheek. “Are you this smooth all over? Do you have hair anywhere but your head?”

I almost choked on my spit.The innocence of his tone had kept his words from sounding crass.

I cannot help but wonder what you look like without your clothing.

If some regular dude from a bar would’ve used this line on me, I would’ve dumped my whiskey sour right over his head.

My mind spun as I finished processing all he’d just said.

“Um, I have a little hair on my body. Well, compared to you it’s a little. If I don’t shave my legs, they become hairy, and I have some hair on my… pussy.”

“Your mating hole is covered in hair?” His nostrils flared and his eyes sparkled with excitement. Then he blinked a few times and said, “Pussy, I meanpussy. You don’t like when I call it a mating hole, do you?”

A sense of disbelief washed over me. Was I truly in the middle of a Pacific Northwest forest telling a Sasquatch that I had hair on my pussy?

“Actually, Brutus,” I said with a small chuckle, “I gotta tell you,mating holeis starting to grow on me.”

He gave me a wide smile that revealed his straight, white, very clean-looking teeth. And again, I detected mint on his breath. Kissing him wouldn’t be so bad. In fact, kissing him might be a little fun.

Wait. Did Sasquatches kiss? And if so, did they enjoy quick pecks on the lips or full on make-out sessions? I didn’t have the nerve to ask.

“Well,” he said, his eyes still glowing, “I am eager to see your hairy mating hole.”

I tried not to wince. Or laugh. Or break down in hysterical tears. He seemed so happy and excited right now that I didn’t have the heart to tell him how weird (and a bit gross) ‘hairy mating hole’ sounded.

“I will catch a fish,” he announced, “and then I will cook it for you. After you eat, I will help bathe you in the hot spring, Hailey, and find some clean clothing for you.” He leaned down and sniffed near my armpit, but when I tried to back away, he grabbed me and held me close. “You have been wearing these clothes for too long.”

Ouch. Bigfoot thought I smelled funny.

I sighed and allowed him to guide me back to the cavern, fighting a laugh the whole way.

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