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Now, I’m sprayed with blood, my home is under threat, I’ve seen a massive orc dick and I’m fantasizing about what sort of trouble I could get into with that double tongue I saw earlier…
“I need to go,” I blurt out as the others continue their discussion about guns, and progressives and corruption between the Judicial Enforcement and the NHC. “My—”
“Husband?” Tigor barks, standing straight, his pale sage-colored lips tight and his forehead drawn.
I shake my head on a squint. “No.” I stand, brushing my hands down the t-shirt, not caring that it’s nearly see through anymore. “My, well, he’s sort of my brother. Darrell.” I flatten my hand, holding it in the air next to me like I’m measuring. “He’s, like, this tall. And the other one…” I raise my hand above my head. “That’s Dominic and he’s sort of my brother as well. Neither of them by blood. We are family by choice, you could say.”
“Family…” Tigor mumbles, then turns and points to the others. “Gathra, my mother. Mol and Athaan, my brother and sister. Raven, Mol’s mate. These are my family. This male that lives with you is not your husband? Not your mate?Brothers, by choice?”
I nod, blowing a loud exhale through my lips. “Yes, but I have to go. Darrell is home sleeping and Dominic…” I shrug. “He won’t be home until tomorrow, so I need to get back, especially with…” I nod toward the open door. “Those guys.”
“I will walk you home,” Tigor announces and I see the angle of his kilt rising again.
“That’s okay, I can make it the thirty steps on my own,” I say, but what I really want is for him to not only walk me home, but kiss me on the doorstep and give me another look at the green goblin under his kilt.
I wave to the rest of his family and work my way out the front door. Orcs are many things, but quiet is not one of them, so it’s no secret that he’s following me as I make my across his front lawn to mine, shivering with the cool grass between my toes.
I’m onto the rough cement of the front walkway when I finally admit to myself the goosebumps and shivers are not from the coolness but from knowing Tigor is following me and I like it.
This sexy orc is making things happen inside me I’ve never known. Sure, I’ve had a guy turn my head, even got some me time in, here and there, over the years, fantasizing about some imaginary scenario, but never have I gotten the flutter-bys from anyonein particular.
There’s still a hint of the smoke from their open-pit barbecue lingering in the air as I turn around and see Tigor two feet behind me, his nostrils flared, his fists still clenched.
I stare up at him, moonlight catching on the ring of ragged circular scars around his neck where the alien collar used to be. He’s wildly tall, taller for some reason now that I’m standing alone in front of the house. He doesn’t say anything as he meets my eyes and it makes me feel vulnerable and also safe, which are two things I don’t ever remember feeling, especially at the same time.
“Okay, well thanks for…” I start, then realize I’m not sure how to express my gratitude for him chopping off the hand of some rando NHC guy who touched me. “Stuff.”
Stuff? That’s what I’ve got?
I shake my head, flapping my hand between us, my lips dry as he reaches out and cups my cheek in his plate-sized palm.
It’s that surprisingly delicate touch again, only this time his rough skin connects with mine, sending these zinging lightning bolts from my cheek down into my toes. His touch warms my face. Before right now, I understood intellectually that orcs had a higher body temperature than humans, but feeling the heat radiating from him has me leaning into this pale-green beast and wondering what those hot fingers might feel like in other places.
“You are as beautiful as the moon and the stars…” He pauses, his face pinched as though he suddenly remembered something unpleasant. “I do not know your name.”
My heart warms at his compliment but also at the way he seems distressed about not knowing my name.
“Emelia, but I like Emmie better. All the foster families called me Emelia but I always wanted to be called Emmie. It felt happier. You don’t get nicknames in foster care.” I’m not sure why I just said that. I’ve never told anyone that before.
“You are Emmie. Always Emmie. Happy nickname Emmie.” The deep rasp of his voice quivers as I offer a smile and look up at the front door, the warmth between my legs dampening my panties.
I do this sort of side-pass three step up to the door and offer an awkward wave as I step inside. He doesn’t move. Not a step. Not an inch. But I’m so overwhelmed by everything that’s happened in the last twenty-minutes, I take one last shaking breath, his strange but arousing rugged scent tantalizing my nose, as I close the door and fall down into a heap on the cool marble floor of the foyer.
I stay there for a few minutes before easing up the stairs and looking in on Darrell, who is perpendicular on his bed, the covers thrown off the foot. He is always battling in his sleep. What, I’m not sure. All three of us have our dark memories but finding Darrell starving and hiding behind a dumpster in the mass confusion of a warzone where orcs and humans were fighting for territory, I saw in his eyes the same lost, hardened look I see from myself in the mirror every morning.
That was two years ago when Dominic and I were making our own break for a new life, and Darrell, well, there’s no way we were leaving him behind.
I close his bedroom door and soon I’m in a warm shower. We fitted the roof the house with solar panels and scavenged for batteries and whatever else to make it pretty self-sufficient. Darrel is great with mechanical stuff and having hot water on demand is an amazing luxury. As I stand in the warmth, the last of the human’s blood running pink down the drain from where it crusted dry in my hair. I run my hands down my chest, some profane and unexpected thoughts of Tigor peaking my nipples.
I wonder if he sees me as I do. I’m not a willowy sort.
I have triple D breasts, and if they had sizes for rear ends, I’m sure I’d be a triple D back there as well. Wide hips. Thick thighs. A soft, generous belly. I like my food, especially now that no one is governing what I eat or how much.
Orc females, the few I’ve seen and as with Tigor’s mother and sister, are solid and muscular like orc men just on a smaller scale. I’ve honestly never seen an orc with a pooch or a dad bod, now that I think about it.
I lean my head back into the hot spray, letting it run down my face, opening my mouth, sticking out my tongue and wondering what the orc next door is doing right now.
I’ve watched him at night in the past week. Usually he’s working, but once I saw him walking in the backyard, naked as he jumped in the pool. I only saw him from the back, that cock of his I would have remembered, and I will admit, I’ve been convincing myself the feels he’s been spinning up in me weren’t what I thought.
