Ghosts in the System

[WretchRoad]

She loved watching him fall apart, from the way his hips stuttered to the sounds he made.

Those moments were honest.

For a long while after, she was weightless in the aftermath, then she dragged her fingers up the center of his spine until they tangled in the hair at the back of his neck just to feel him shiver.

Reality came seeping in. She thought back to what he said about the kinds of women he wanted, why he waited so long for someone. Why she had to be that someone.

She had to wonder, after that, if what she did was part of the job, or a choice she made. He'd made it much more difficult to determine where the line was drawn.

"And we still have a week left..." she mused to herself.

 

[The_gladiator]

“A week, hmm. The things I could do to you.”


He smirked and eased back from her, slow, until he was sitting in his chair again. His eyes never left her—her body, her eyes—taking her in.


“Well. Maybe you wore me out.” Teasing. He looked almost like he could go for round two already.


“Speaking of the week—we’ll arrive at my home in a few hours. In the meantime neither of us ate much. You satisfied one hunger. Perhaps I should satisfy the other and make you dinner.”

 

[WretchRoad]

When he drew away, she closed her legs, tightly, and sat up on the console. For all the dignity in her posture, the flush of her cheeks and chest and the sheen of sweat covering her skin could not be hidden in the wake of their joining.

She expected truths and consequences. She expected him to go back to his ship, to whatever pirates do, but instead he offered her dinner.

Her eyebrows raised. She never got to finish her meal and was more than willing to take up his offer, but that was less important for the moment.

"Wait," she looked out at the stars on the screens and back to him. She was a passable navigator but could not tell where they were going from the patterns alone. "You're already taking me home to meet your folks?"

 

[The_gladiator]

He looked at her like she’d grown another head.


“Of course not. You think I live with my parents? I know I give off a mama’s boy vibe, but damn.”


He pulled his pants up, slow. The lack of haste said he wasn’t angry. Just startled.


“Nah. We’ll get to see my pain-in-the-ass copilot, and my talking trash can who calls himself a mech bot.”


His hand slid idly along her leg. Just feeling her skin.


“Lasagna and cheesecake?” he asked, curious.

 

[WretchRoad]

She watched closely while he half-dressed himself again, not shy about staring.

His touch very nearly kept her from refocusing on the mission. Almost made her forget what she was there to do.

He was a weapons smuggler, she assured herself, no matter what he happened to be hauling at the moment. No matter how well he just fucked her.

And he was taking her back to... his home? His hideout? That kind of information could salve over the minor wound she caused the IGA in their escape.

She didn't give a hint at what she was thinking, just said "Oooh lasagna... like real lasagna or rehydrated space meat and bio-plastic noodles? Either way, I'm starving."

Her legs stayed pinned closed. "And I need another shower."

 

[The_gladiator]

“You think I eat that rehydrated crap if I can help it? Nah. Raf taught me to cook years ago. Cause, and I quote, ‘I ain’t your mama or your wife, bitch. Cook it yourself.’”


He chuckled.


“Take your shower. Find me in the galley afterward.”


A beat. His hand still resting on her leg.


“Keep in mind, too—in case now you’ve gotten what you wanted from me—my home is not on any star charts. I’m a paranoid bastard. And you can’t com out from my base either. Raf’s wife Clara is psycho about her precious cargo.”

 

[WretchRoad]

"Your pillow talk could use work," she quipped.

Her glance fell on his hand, then wandered back up to his eyes. "Are you going to let me up, or is this foreplay leading to another round?"

But she answered for him, slipping down off the console to gather her, or rather Starla's, clothes into a pile in her arms.

She dismissed his warning while internally cursing her luck. No wonder he was so difficult to catch.

"You can tell me all about Raf and why Clara is a psycho over dinner, which I am looking forward to," she assured him as she sauntered out of the cockpit.

 

[The_gladiator]

He laughed. She wasn’t wrong. He was out of practice.


Yes, he watched her ass as she sauntered out. Worth the view.


After that he got to business. Making lasagna was very serious business.


Some time later it was finally coming together when he heard a footstep behind him.


“Ester, hmm. Kind of like Ester Prynne in that old Terran story. What was that called.” He bit his lip a moment. “The Scarlet Letter.”


The irony of the thought made him smirk.


The admission told her he was educated. And not in the normal spacer way.