Read Each Step Like Knives for Free Online Page A

the
soul.
     
    He stood, his mouth thinned into a grim line, as
though he were in terrible pain.
     
    No wonder, she thought. She’d just kicked him in the
chest.
     
    He put a hand to his heart then moved it outward,
palm up, and curled the fingers closed. He made a gesture as though
tossing the invisible something in his hand toward her, then put
both hands, fingertips together, to his lips. He repeated it
twice.
     
    Sign language. "Are you deaf?"
     
    He shook his head and cupped one hand around his
ear.
     
    "You can hear, but you can't talk?"
     
    Again, a head shake. Helena realized suddenly the
man was still naked. His body was pale and finely formed, with
sleek lines and defined but not overlarge muscles. His skin still
had a faint bluish cast. His penis curled between muscular thighs,
but no hair surrounded it.
     
    Helena pulled her embarrassed gaze away from his
crotch. No hair on his chest, either, or under his arms. No hair
anywhere that she could see, but for the thick dark layers on his
head.
     
    He repeated his earlier gesture two more times, his
gaze sincere. He wisely kept his distance.
     
    "You're sorry?" She didn't know how she knew that's
what he meant, but her guess had been correct.
     
    Relief curved his lips into a smile. He nodded. He
looked pointedly at the bed, then down to his penis, which twitched
and made as though to rise. He pointed to her and passed his hands
flat down in front of him as though he were stroking her from
throat to hips.
     
    Her nipples poked at the front of the soft T-shirt
when he did that, and Helena crossed her arms over her chest. "I
don't know where you come from, buddy, but you just don't crawl
into a woman's bed and..." And what? Lick her to one of the best
orgasms she'd ever had? "Well, you just can't do that. Not without
my permission! That's rape!"
     
    The problem was, now that the initial surprise had
faded, she didn't feel raped. She didn't feel violated. Quite the
opposite, Helena mused, as the man's cock thickened a bit more in
front of her fascinated gaze. She felt quite horny.
     
    "You just can't do it," she finished lamely. "I
don't know who you are, or where you came from, or anything about
you!"
     
    He pointed out the window, where a glimpse of now
blue ocean peeked in at them. He put one finger in the air and
mimicked the water funnel's motion, then threw out both his hands
toward her.
     
    "Yes, I know you came from that freaky funnel thing.
But how did you get there? Who are you?"
     
    It seemed he couldn't reply. He put a hand to his
throat and shook his head sadly. Then he shrugged.
     
    For a long moment, they stared at each other from
across the room. Finally, Helena sighed. "Are you hungry? C'mon.
I'll make us something to eat. Then we can figure out what to do
with you."
     

She provided him with an article of clothing he recognized but had
to struggle to get into. The two tubes of material were meant to
cover his new legs. Jeenai had no trouble seeing that. But how did
these split-tails...humans, he reminded himself. How do they manage
to get them on?
     
    He lifted one foot, which made the other scream in
agony at the extra pressure. He was able to stick his leg down in
and repeat the process, then pull the stretchy circular opening up
to his hips. The fit wasn't perfect. A good two hand's-breadth of
ankle stuck out below the bottom edge. He was covered, though,
which Jeenai knew to be important to the humans, and he felt better
with his equipment tucked away beneath something protective. He
might get used to feet and legs, but he'd never get used to having
his penis and testicles exposed for all the world to see.
     
    "They look good on you," the woman told him when he
entered the room where she was fixing the food. "Sit down. I'm
making eggs."
     
    Jeenai had seen many humans using what they called
beach chairs, but though this looked similar, the back was higher
and the legs longer. He sat gingerly, unused to bending his body in
such a