Discovery by T M Roy Page B

quick spot cleaning with his Ziplocked supply of baby wipes. He changed his underwear and slid into his last clean set of clothes, sweats, and sweatshirt. Had he been alone, and the weather warmer, Kent would’ve slept nude. He would’ve slept nude in other circumstances, too.
    As a matter of fact…
    “Stop it!” He gritted his teeth and pulled up the sweats over his goose-fleshed legs. “It’s too damned cold.” Of course it’d be warmer for both if they did sleep—unencumbered.
    He returned to the campsite, lit only by dim, clouded moonlight. A closer look at a strange shape hanging from a tree limb revealed Povre’s empty jumpsuit, spread neatly. Next to it was another one piece garment, a thinner one.
    “You can’t leave these out here, Povre. They’ll be soaked by morning.” He retrieved the garments, rolling them the same way he would roll his jacket and shirt to use as padding beneath his head once he was settled. Then he stopped short. “Damn.”
    What did that leave on her?
    He found out soon enough and nearly bolted from the tent. From what he could tell, she was entirely nude. He gulped. Then again, the flash of a bare shoulder didn’t mean she didn’t have some sort of strapless covering on.
    “I doubt it.” He swore again, softly.
    Great. He had to sleep in a narrow sleeping bag with a naked alien—an attractive, beautiful, soft-as-chamois female alien who looked all too human in all the right places.
    “It’s that or freeze. So what am I complaining about? Sleeping with Povre is a much better alternative. What the hell…one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind…”
    He could see the supermarket tabloid headlines. I Slept with an Alien. Amazing TRUE photos!
    “K’nt.” Her husky voice interrupted his thoughts. “You are baby-man, yes? Or no?” She sounded scolding and just a bit amused. “I not bite. Not carn-ee-vor.”
    He couldn’t move or speak at the moment, fighting an internal battle.
    Then she started squirming out of the bag. “I sleep out.”
    “No! You sleep in . Too cold out here. I’m coming…” Bad word choice. “I’m getting in.” He punched himself in the thigh. Lord. Couldn’t he say a simple sentence without a double meaning smacking him right where it hurt the most? “I’ll sleep in the sleeping bag with you. But I warn you, no kissing, either. Just sleep.”
    “No kiss? Kiss make warm I, you.” Was that a smile in her voice?
    Kent stripped off his socks. “No. Absolutely no kissing. For your information I’m not the sort of person who engages in casual sleeping with an alien.” He tried not to laugh. “At least not on the first date.”
    Another sigh. “O-kay.”
    He handed her the bundle of clothing. “Use this for a pillow. Under your head.” After arranging their boots so the insides would stay dry, he peeled off his shirt and rolled it with his jacket. Another small step for man, he thought to himself, taking a deep breath.
    Kent wriggled into the sleeping bag beside her as quickly as he could. He turned his back to her, telling himself he didn’t feel anything soft and warm through the never-ending zing of tiny static shocks. And no, he hadn’t caught any alluring glimpses in the half-filtered moonlight, either. Not a single one. He zipped the tent, then the bag, closed his fingers into fists, and crossed his arms in front of himself like a mummified pharaoh. His legs tangled with hers, as the bottom of the bag narrowed and there wasn’t any way around it. Both muttered apologies as their respective injuries were bumped. Legs settled in layers: first, his left leg, then hers; his right leg with hers on top.
    He felt her warm body mold itself to his back. A slender arm slipped around his waist. He tried not to flinch as more of the small electrical charges prickled, but couldn’t help a shiver as her fingers touched the skin and sparse hair on his midriff.
    What did she do with her other arm? He could feel the tips of her