CHAPTER TWELVE

 

Back at the bar, Shy greeted her with a more relaxed smile and a cocktail glass full of something rainbow-colored and slightly fizzy.

“Taryn calls it a Supernova Sour. I think it’s a very fancy hot pepper daiquiri.”

“Sounds like a galaxy of flavor in a glass!” Thisbe joked as she accepted her fresh drink. “I’m sorry. That was terrible.”

Shy giggled, which was such an unexpected sound from her that Thisbe laughed, too, and soon they both were cracking up, leaning against each other for support. It took them several careful, snorting attempts to clink their glasses together in a toast.

“Cheers,” Thisbe gasped.

“Hum, cheers to what?”

Thisbe felt a sudden rush of joy swell up inside her, a mad delight in the overwhelming realization that she, Thisbe Vandergoss, was incognito on an alien planet shoulder to shoulder with the most beautiful woman she had ever met, drinking amazing cocktails in a cozy little bar while the DJ played her favorite song. By God, she was hammered. Might as well embrace it a little before she ruined everything.

“Cheers to Golden Side of Midnight!” She raised her glass to the crowd, along with her voice. “Cheers to Galactica!”

Several people nearby raised their glasses in response, and a ragged round of applause and whistles rippled through the room. Thisbe turned back to Shy, cheeks glowing, and leaned closer until her brow just barely brushed against Shy’s. She lowered her voice to soft purr.

“Cheers to Starfall Ranch. And the badass goddess that runs the place.”

Shy was quiet for a moment but did not pull away. Thisbe felt her heart pounding in her throat. The words were already out, though, no taking them back.

“Cheers to Starfall Ranch. And to angels disguised as unexpected houseguests,” Shy said at last.

Her eyes flicked up to meet Thisbe’s gaze, and it was a call and response between their bodies. She felt as though a bolt of electricity surged through her veins. Shy reached up a hand to brush her fingers through Thisbe’s hair. Thisbe was certain that she had never wanted to kiss anyone so much in her entire life. All she needed to do was move in just a little further, closer to those perfect, glossy lips…

“Alright! So which of you two do I get the pleasure of dancing with first?”

The moment shattered like a cocktail glass on a crowded barroom floor. Thisbe was slower to come back to her senses than Shy, who turned on the interloper with a fury.

“Fuck off, Gransel!”

He wobbled on unsteady feet, sloshing his drink over the side of his cup, and looked from one woman to the other with bloodshot eyes.

“Was I interrupting something?”

“Yes!” They said in unison.

“No need to bite a man’s head off for asking,” he mumbled, already lurching off in search of another dance partner.

It was a brief intrusion, but the moment was gone. Shy glared daggers after Gransel’s retreating back, and Thisbe felt suddenly nowhere near drunk enough. She slurped down her cocktail, then downed her whiskey shot and pushed the other towards Shy to do the same.

“I wanna dance,” she shouted over the increasingly loud music, “but not with that jackass!”

They spent the next hour alternating between the crowded dance floor and the bar, their dance moves getting increasingly explicit. When the DJ took a break, Thisbe led Shy to a private booth in the back where she gently pushed her onto the cushioned bench and climbed on top of her to straddle her lap.

“Well hey there, sexy. What’s a sweet thing like you doing in a place like this?” Thisbe laughed.

Shy’s hands were all over her, sliding up her thighs and around to grab her ass, then moving up her hips to her waist before wandering up the length of her back.

Thisbe lowered her head to lick and kiss along Shy’s collarbone, breathing in the intoxicating scent of the other woman. Her panties were soaking wet, her body felt like a fine-tuned instrument beneath Shy’s fingertips, and she vaguely wondered what the lewdness laws were in this quadrant of Sirona before deciding that she didn’t really care. She’d go down on Shy right then and there and gladly do some light jail time for it, if it came to that.

She had intended to smoothly work her way up Shy’s neck and jaw to her mouth, but as Shy’s hands moved back down and her palm moved up beneath Thisbe’s shirt, running along her abs, she lost all hope of control. She cupped Shy’s cheeks with her hands and her mouth found Shy’s and the kiss that followed was wild and savage, an autumn storm raging through an orchard.

Thisbe’s tongue curled inside Shy’s mouth, then teeth grazed her lower lip, and then Shy moved in to take the lead, pushing up into Thisbe’s open mouth, the two of them desperate to feel and taste and savor the other. They broke away only when it was absolutely necessary to breathe.

“You want a lap dance, baby? You want to me to show this town exactly what’s yours?” Thisbe was distantly aware of how drunk she sounded, but she couldn’t help it. She felt like an invincible sex goddess, riding high on lust. She licked Shy’s lips playfully and grinned.

So it was a surprise to her when Shy pulled back and withdrew her hands, gently guiding Thisbe off her lap and onto the booth beside her.

“We’re drunk,” Shy said, her voice husky with lust.

“Yeah, we definitely are,” Thisbe laughed. “So?”

“So I don’t want it like this.”

Thisbe laughed again and tried to climb back into Shy’s lap. Shy stopped her, more forceful this time, her strong arms pinning Thisbe down next to her.

“No.” Shy said firmly.

Thisbe’s mouth felt dry while the rest of her reeled with desire. She hadn’t thought it possible to want someone any more than she already wanted Shy, but the show of gentle force was something she hadn’t experienced before. Nobody had ever denied her like that.

The alcohol wasn’t making it any easier. If Shy wanted, she could have had Thisbe between her thighs under the table with a single word. It was a little galling that she didn’t. Thisbe was never one to play down her accomplishments, and she had it on good authority that she was a Grade A Pussy Licker. Shy didn’t know what she was missing. But maybe she should.

“What if I took my shirt off?” Thisbe tried, laughing. She reached for the hem of the fabric and once again Shy’s steady grip stopped her.

“Quit being a brat,” Shy said roughly. She exhaled forcefully through her nose and shook her head, as if she were coming to a decision about something. “I’m going to get us both some water, and some food.”

“You quit being a brat,” Thisbe pouted, but she stopped trying to take off her clothes.

Shy got up and staggered her way back to the bar, with Thisbe stumbling close behind her. She’d be damned if she was going to sit at a bench all by herself while the hottest woman in the building disappeared into the crowd.

“Carbs,” Shy pleaded with the tall bartender that had taken Taryn’s place. “Fried carbs. Two orders.”

“Mushroom burgers and old-fashioned cheesy tots sound about right?”

“You are my savior.”

Thisbe snuggled up to Shy’s right side and wrapped her arms around Shy’s arm. She wanted to make a flirty comment about what she was really hungry for, but just at that moment, someone walked up behind them and said her name.

“Thisbe? Thisbe Vandergoss?” Her real name.

She turned, suddenly keenly aware of how much the floor seemed to be lurching under her feet. She felt cold all over, in spite of the sweat that clung to every inch of her skin.

“Excuse me?”

It was a touristy looking couple, bright-eyed and loud and dressed in off-the-rack Earth trends. One of them, a dark man with very white teeth, held up his camera lens and Thisbe put her hands up reflexively to shield her face.

“You are her! You’re Thisbe Vandergoss, holy dogs, honey, we’re going to be rich!”

“What are you doing way out here in this sector of Sirona, for crying out loud?” The man’s companion, a blonde woman with animated tattoos running along her shoulder blades, gestured around them with her own phone, clearly recording. “The news cycles on Earth have been running your Missing Persons poster every hour for days now.”

“Your family is offering a lot of money for any information on your whereabouts.”

“A hundred thousand credits in any currency.”

The man had lowered his device and was tapping furiously at his keyboard, all the while smiling his big, dumb, too-white smile. Thisbe felt the weight of Shy’s dumbstruck stare next to her, and the liquor in her stomach curdled. She reached out and snatched the man’s phone away, flinging it over the top of the crowd and smashing it against the far wall in one quick gesture.

“What the fuck?!”

“You have no right!” She shouted at them, ashamed to feel tears stinging her eyes. “This is my life and you have no right.”

“They said you’d been kidnapped!”

“It’s not like your family can’t spare the money, bitch! You’re buying him a new handheld on top of that reward money or we’ll sue the fuck out of you for assault.”

Thisbe was dimly aware that the music had stopped, everyone in the club was staring at her, and Shy was no longer by her side. She whipped her head around, searching for her… there! She saw the back of Shy’s head, leaving through the exit, and pushed through the throng of tourists and gawkers to catch up.

Outside, the cold autumn air was a shock to her flushed, drunk skin. Good. She needed something to help her sober up.

“Shy!” She shouted.

Shy stopped in her tracks in the parking lot but did not turn around.

“Shy please, it’s not what you think.”

Thisbe caught up and put a hand on Shy’s shoulder, and that time Shy did turn around, swiftly and with fury and hurt clear in her eyes.

“I don’t give a damn why you did it, or who you really are, but you lied to me, Thisbe. I let you into my home, I shared my food, my books, my h—” Shy stopped herself, shaking her head. “You couldn’t even tell me your real name? Seriously?”

“Shy, I’m—”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. Was there even a Sean Kerridan? You sure didn’t seem that worried about contacting him after conveniently showing up at the start of a storm that wiped out all communications. What were you really doing at Starfall Ranch, Thisbe? Huh?”

“I…” Thisbe was at a loss for words. Anything she could think of sounded ridiculous. The truth was absurd, and more lies wouldn’t help. She shrugged helplessly. “I fucked up.”

“Yeah. You’re damn right you did.” Shy turned her back and stalked over to her truck. A cheerful robotic voice, so at odds with the tension in the air, quietly informed her that auto-drive had been activated. “I’m not stupid, Thisbe, and let me make one thing clear. My home is not going to be ground zero for a mining war between billionaires. You and Gransel can both go fuck yourselves. Or each other, for all I care. Find yourself a hotel in town, or even better: find a ride back to the shuttle station, Thisbe. You’re not welcome at Starfall Ranch ever again.”

“What? Shy, wait!”

Thisbe put her hand on the driver-side door, but Shy had already locked it and the truck wheeled itself away, back onto the road. Thisbe looked around at the now-quiet parking lot. She was utterly alone. Her cover was blown, and soon her parents would know exactly where to find her.