Uncivilized

  When she's halfway down to the ground, I start thinking of the best way to get her clothes off... maybe I'll just command that she strip while she kneels, but she pushes back up hard against me and tears herself away.

  "No, Zach. We can't do that," she practically shouts at me, her eyes wild with unease.

  "Why not? You said you'd teach me about sex."

  Holding both of her hands in front of me defensively, she shakes her head. "I said I'd teach you... not that I'd have sex with you."

  I cock an eyebrow at her, completely dismayed at this reaction. My eyes travel down her body a moment, taking in the flush of her cheeks and the way her chest is heaving with erect nipples, and I'm confused. She wants this... I can tell.

  "You want me," I tell her simply. "I know you do."

  She stubbornly shakes her head. "No... I can't do that."

  "Can't? But you want to?" I ask, because I need her to clarify for me what this boundary is that she is placing.

  Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she says, "It doesn't matter what I want. I was hired by your godfather to look out for you. To teach you how to assimilate. I'm going to publish a paper on this one day. It would cross every line of professional and moral decency if you and I had sex. I'll teach you another way."

  "How?" I ask her skeptically. Not that I really care. I don't want to learn a thing about her sexual norms. I was just using this as a way to get what I wanted... which is a pounding inside of her sweet body.

  "Um... there are plenty of ways. Movies... books. I can answer questions for you. I can provide answers to your curiosities, but we absolutely cannot have sex."

  I think back to that first night I saw Moira, and the way she watched me as I took Tukaba. I remember the way she touched herself that night on the Jutai River, and achieved the same glorious release that I did. There is no doubt that Moira is a sexual creature. She wanted me both of those times, and I am confident she wants me now.

  Perhaps she's not quite ready to get on bended knee, but I'm sure I can get her there eventually. My chin rises as I look at her, and internally... to myself... I accept the challenge.

  I may have a little work still to do where she's concerned, but I'll have her bowing down before me soon... and she'll be begging me for it.

  Chapter 4

  Moira

  Zach was silent once again as I came into the kitchen for a cup of coffee this morning. I had introduced him to java when we were in Brasilia, and he fell in love with it. I told him that we're going to run some errands today--for which clothing is required--and he just gave me a smirk.

  But he dutifully went and showered, emerging wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a light blue T-shirt, along with a pair of running shoes I bought him. Today's errands include some shopping for more clothes, because I only bought him a few sets while we were in Brazil.

  His long, brown hair hangs loose in messy waves, which looks completely at odds with the preppy look of his clothing. I'm sure any person who looks at Zach will do a double take. He just projects the look and feel of a wild man that lived in the rainforest for eighteen years and most would probably envision him better in torn jeans and an AC/DC T-shirt or something. I might offer to take him for a haircut again, but not any time soon. He flat out shut that idea down when I suggested it a few days ago, telling me that Caraican men prize their long hair.

  Our morning is busy and Zach tolerates me taking him to a department store, while we stock up on men's apparel. Underwear, shirts, shorts, jeans, socks, and T-shirts. He calmly and quietly accepts my direction, trying on clothes to make sure they fit. His silence drives me batty sometimes, and I'm dying to know what he's thinking. He doesn't ask me a single question, nor does he show any curiosity about anything.

  After our conversation last night, when he demanded I teach him about sex, unfortunately sex is all I can think about now. He saw my body's reaction to him. He knows I want him to take me, just as I wanted it while I watched him take that woman in the glow of the firelight. But I made it clear... I can't. I cannot mess up this opportunity just because my body is yearning to know what it would be like to be fully dominated by a man.

  But not just any man.

  A man like Zacharias Easton, who walks around my house gloriously naked with his massive cock swinging confidently.

  He's killing me. Absolutely killing me. I went to bed last night and kept thinking about how he had moved so quickly... grabbing me by my neck and pushing me to the ground. I wanted to give in... oh, so bad, and my body was screaming in frustration, even as my brain was screaming at me to stop that nonsense. I had no sooner stripped my clothes off and crawled into bed than I reached into my nightstand drawer and pulled out my trusted pink rabbit vibrator. I was so worked up from the hunger I saw in Zach's eyes as he gripped me by the neck, it seemed like just a nanosecond before I was screaming into my pillow and hoping Zach had not heard me.

  Zach actually does show some marginal interest when we go to the grocery store. He tells me he remembers doing this with his mother and father after church on Sundays. As we stroll the aisles, he picks up various items to look at with curiosity. When we reach the cereal aisle, an actual smile comes to his face as he grabs a box of Cocoa Puffs.

  "Do you recognize that?" I ask him.

  He nods his head. "My mom used to buy it for me. It was my favorite."

  "Well, throw it in the cart then," I tell him, feeling like doing a victory dance inside because he is making a connection to his roots.

  After we are fully loaded with enough food to feed an army, I push the cart toward the checkout lane.

  "Anything else you want while we're here?" I ask Zach as an afterthought.

  Zach's eyes dart to the floor in an uncharacteristic display of uncertainty. He is one of the most powerfully confident men I have ever met, and the mere fact that for the first time ever he's lowered his gaze away from me, puts me on alert.

  I wait patiently for him to look back up. When he does, he asks, "Do you know how to make chocolate chip cookies?"

  My smile burns bright. "Absolutely. Want some?"

  His return smile is tentative, but I can tell it's something that is personal to him. It's a complete victory that he shared a secret part of himself.

  He nods. "If you don't mind."

  "Of course I don't," I reassure him, thrilled beyond measure that he's actually showing some interest in something other than scowling at me. "Let's go get the ingredients, and I'll make them as soon as we get home."

  "You're a very smart woman," Zach says as he looks around the restaurant I chose for us to eat lunch at. While his words are complimentary, his tone is not.

  "What do you mean?" I ask as I unwrap the sandwich I just purchased.

  "Bringing me to a restaurant that serves only food you eat with your hands," he says with a smirk.

  I can't help myself--I laugh. Zach's eyes crinkle as he unwraps his own sandwich. "You got me. I couldn't risk having you slurp your food off your plate somewhere else."

  Zach doesn't respond but merely takes a bite as he looks around at the various diners. I eat my meal in silence, watching Zach as he takes in his surroundings. He may act like he wants nothing to do with this new life, but he is an avidly curious man. He watches people with stealthy grace, drinking in details... learning by merely observing.

  "That couple over there," Zach says as he inclines his head, and my gaze turns to follow what he is looking at. "They're kissing."

  "Yes," I agree, but I don't say more because I'm not sure why this is important.

  "Why do people kiss? I remember my parents kissing, but we don't do that in our tribe. I'm curious what the point is."

  Swallowing the food in my mouth, I take a drink of bottled water while I contemplate how to explain kissing to Zach. What a complex ritual that he has asked about, and while my anthropological studies are not necessarily focused on sexual norms of the tribes I've studied, I do know that the way in which different cultures show
affection through kissing, or even foreplay through kissing, varies radically.

  Glancing at the couple, who are more or less giving soft, teasing, and flirty kisses to each other while they hold hands, I tell Zach, "What they are doing right now... that type of kissing... it's a way to show affection to someone that you care about. See how their lips don't linger long on one another? See how they're smiling and laughing with one another?"

  "It's like they're in their own world," Zach observes, and I smile because he doesn't miss a thing.

  "Yes... they have eyes only for each other."

  "That's the way my parents kissed in front of me," he says with a measure of sadness in his voice.

  "I understand they were very in love with each other," I tell Zach. "At least... that's what Randall told me."

  At the mention of Randall's name, Zach's eyes harden, and he takes another bite of his sandwich. After he swallows, he asks, "But there are other types of kissing?"

  "Yes," I tell him with a smile. "You can kiss someone in greeting or when you are leaving to say goodbye. You can kiss a sick child on the forehead to comfort them. There are lots of ways."

  "Do you kiss when you have sex?" he asks with direct challenge.

  I swallow hard, because it looks like we may be having a sex lesson in the middle of this restaurant. "Yes, you do. But why do you ask? Did you see your parents doing that?"

  "No, I never saw that."

  Now he has me insanely curious from a cultural perspective. How does a man that has never seen a sensual kiss know that it can be very much a part of sex?

  "Then what makes you think it might be part of sex?"

  He shrugs his shoulders and gives me a look that's half smile, half sneer. "Because... I think about kissing you, and I don't even like you in the slightest. So I'm thinking there must be a sexual element to it, because... otherwise, why would I even think that about you?"

  Well, hell. I'm part offended, part flattered, but regardless of my feelings, I need to answer him from a teacher's perspective.

  "Yes, kissing can very much be involved with the act of sex. Many people use it as foreplay... it excites two people to kiss one another."

  Zach glances back over at the canoodling couple. "They don't look like they want to have sex."

  "The sexual type of kissing is a bit different," I tell him with a blush. "It's deeper... the tongue is involved."

  "The tongue? Show me," he demands with hunger in his eyes, and I find myself falling prey to that look.

  "No," I exclaim as I shake my head. "We're in a public place."

  "Then when we get home," he urges.

  "No, Zach. Absolutely not."

  He looks angry and frustrated with me, so I can't help but try to appease him because I don't want him to shut down when this is the first time he's actually interacted with me. "But I bet I can find some videos on YouTube when we get home."

  "YouTube?" he asks, his curiosity piqued once again.

  "It's um... it's this way to search for videos on the Internet," I tell him.

  "Videos?"

  "Yes... like movies. Do you remember those?"

  He nods but asks quickly, "What's the Internet?"

  "It's something that you can search on a computer and will pretty much give you an answer to what you need to know," is all I can think to lamely say, because seriously... how do you explain the Internet to someone that has never heard of it before?

  "Gives you the answers to everything?"

  "Yes," I say. "Pretty much."

  "Then what do I need you for? Give me one of these computer things, and I can learn all I need to know from that."

  I just stare at Zach, not knowing what to say. Because he has a good point... I could probably sit him in front of a computer, teach him some basic search skills, and he could learn whatever he wanted about this new world he has ventured in to.

  Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, because they are spinning now, I tell him, "I'll teach you how to use a computer, but you can't learn everything from it. You have to experience things yourself to really learn."

  "Like kissing?" Zach says with a slow smile.

  "I'm not teaching you how to kiss," I growl at him, and his eyes twinkle at me.

  "Who said I need you to teach me how to kiss. One thing I've learned from the short time I've been here... you're not the only woman in this new, modern world, Moira Reed."

  My jaw drops open at the implication of what Zach just told me, and it's true. There are so many things... sex in particular, that Zach could learn from someone else. He truly doesn't need me for that, and maybe all I need to do is introduce him to someone and let nature take its course.

  But no... that's ridiculous. Zach is nowhere near ready to enter into a relationship with someone. While he may be a confident, Caraican warrior, he's really just a babe out of the womb when it comes to learning about relationships, sexual or otherwise.

  And besides that... the thought of him being with another woman just doesn't set well with me for some reason.

  "Now, this is your first lesson in pop culture," I tell Zach as I slip the DVD of The Notebook into the Blu-ray player. On the way home from lunch, I stopped and rented a few movies. "And it just happens to have a little lesson on kissing as well, so you can thank me later."

  Our afternoon has been busy. After a stop to get the movies, I came home and started a batch of chocolate chip cookies. While they were baking in the oven, I pulled my laptop out and searched YouTube for videos on kissing.

  Sure enough, there were several, and he spent a few minutes watching the videos with curious eyes. He even laughed... a beautiful sound truly... when we watched one video of an exuberant German guy apparently explaining all the ways he kisses his girlfriend. We had no clue what he was actually saying, but he was having a good time, no doubt.

  Then Zach was lost to the chocolate chip cookies. I busied myself with checking my email while he ate an entire plate, actually sighing with pleasure at the first bite. I just smiled to myself and kept my eyes glued to my computer screen.

  Now Zach sits on one of my couches, his long legs sprawled out in front of him. The sun is just setting outside my windows, and the late afternoon light washes him in a soft glow. He is such a beautiful-looking man, and I never tire of looking at him. I am thankful, however, that he seems to have forgotten, for the moment at least, of his "no clothes in the house" policy. I seriously don't think I can sit on the opposite end of the couch and watch an entire movie if he were nude.

  I have a hard enough time paying attention to the movie as it is. I slide my gaze over to Zach every once in a while, and he seems absorbed with what he's watching, but only in the way in which I've noticed he carefully observes everything.

  Today, I've made some amazing progress with Zach. I'm not sure if it was buying the Cocoa Puffs for him, or maybe it's the fact he is finally seeing that this world may hold a slight bit of interest to him, but he is nowhere near as defensive or withdrawn as he has been. I can only hope that we continue on the same path, and that he will continue to be open to experiencing this new life.

  The movie finally gets to the scene where Noah and Allie kiss on the dock in the pouring rain, and I slide my eyes back toward Zach. He's in the same position, legs stretched long in front of him with his hands resting over his taut stomach. He doesn't move, doesn't acknowledge anything about the kiss. The scene changes, and Noah and Allie are in his house, kissing passionately while he pins her up against the door. Zach just continues to placidly watch the scene before him, moving not a muscle, making not a sound.

  Noah carries Allie up the stairs, and then they are making love on the bed while they kiss each other with hungry passion. Zach wanted to know what type of kissing was involved in sex, and now he has his answer. Although he seems completely unaffected by the sensuality on the screen before us, I unfortunately can't help but imagine what it would be like if Zach kissed me that way. Would he find pleasure in it? The buildup... the forepla
y? Or is he a man that only needs to mount a woman from behind to seek his relief, not caring a bit if the woman is ultimately satisfied as well?

  Those thoughts have me slightly squirming in my seat, but I make myself sit there and watch the rest of the movie while dirty notions run through my mind.

  When the credits finally roll, I stand up, grab the remote, and turn the TV off. Turning to Zach, I ask, "Well... what did you think of the movie?"

  "It was boring," he says.

  I laugh in response and tell him, "Congratulations. You have suffered through your first chick-flick."

  "Chick-flick? What does that mean?"

  "It's just a term we call movies that are specifically designed to appeal to a woman, and not a man."

  He nods in understanding. "I remember seeing a movie with my parents once. I don't remember the name of it, but it was about a little boy that played some type of game with this little girl, and he was sucked away into the game, where he was transported to a jungle. He lived there for many years and grew to become a man. Later, some other children found the game and played it, and the man was brought back out of the jungle... back to the modern world."

  My jaw drops as I stare at Zach, completely shocked over this memory and the irony of the one movie he remembers from his childhood. "I remember that movie... it was called Jumanji. It starred Robin Williams who was a brilliant actor... my favorite actually."

  Zach shrugs his shoulders. "I don't remember the name, but I remember I liked it as a child. Do you have that movie?"

  Shaking my head but with a hoarse voice filled with raw sadness for Zach, I tell him, "No. But we can get it for you to watch."

  Zach gives another shrug of his shoulders, as if he really couldn't care about the prospect, and stands from the couch. "I'm going to bed."

  "Okay," I say quietly, wanting to engage with him further on this memory, because I know the frightening similarity of the movie memory to his real life has to be weighing on him at this moment.

  Instead, I stay quiet and watch as he walks toward the hallway that leads to the bedrooms.

  Just before he disappears from my sight, he turns and says, "The kissing part was interesting... in that movie we just watched."