disclaimer: this is an unedited work in progress. It is shared here in a spirit of fun. It may change or even be deleted from the final draft.
“Why’d you say that about Cal?” Ruy asked. “About him not wanting to sleep with Paloma?”
“He’s in love with me. He has been since we were kids.” Eve looked down at the beer in her hands.
“And you? Do you love him too?” Ruy found himself curious.
“I love him very much. But I’ve spent a lot of years proving that I don’t need him.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I don’t know. If you figure it out, will you tell me?” The smile on her face was wistful.
“Sure, Prima.” He smiled. “But don’t get any ideas about playing matchmaker. Torres and I are oil and water.” His eyes followed hers back to where Torres was dancing with the scientist. She had her back to his front now and her eyes were closed. Her hand was cupping the back of Cal’s head; her lip was caught between her teeth. The music had changed to something slow with a throbbing, sensual beat, and Paloma rocked and swayed with it as if she were born to dance, her work-strong body undulating against Cal. Ruy felt his cheeks heating with annoyance as he watched the scientist draw his beer bottle down between Paloma’s breasts, making her nipples harden against the boyish undershirt she wore. For a guy who wasn’t interested, Cal had certainly turned up the heat on the dance floor.
Ruy went looking for the blonde.
He woke to a dry mouth and a pounding head. After carefully removing the woman’s arm from around his waist, he stumbled up to go find the head. Maria. That was her name. Maria with the blonde hair and pouty lips. Ruy felt a smile drag his lips up. She’d been a fun diversion, sweet and uncomplicated. When he came back into the room she was sitting up in bed, blinking at him.
“Buenos dias, Ruy.” She purred, stretching.
“Hey. That was fun last night.” He smiled, sitting next to her on the bed. There was a time in his life when this sort of thing had never been awkward, a kiss, a wave goodbye, and he’d be on his way. But these planets where the rebels settled, everything was a little more complex than that: sleeping with a woman could be seen as promise.
“Yeah, maybe we should do it again?” She moved to straddle his legs and sit on his lap, confident in her sensuality. He laughed and kissed her cheek.
“I need to get back to my ship. Some other time, maybe.” He smiled as he reached for his pants.
She threw her head back and laughed.
“Oh, sure. Good luck though, since your boat, she’s not here.”