Page 100 of Seven Oars
“Wait.” Fawn waved the worst of the smoke away from her face.“Didn’t someone tell us that you were the station’s mechanic?”
Thilza chuckled, revealing those dark-blue canines they all sported.
“When I want to be.” His eyes were hard.“And there’s nothing Fincros can do if I don’t. Not a single fuck.”
Fawn leaned in, her pillowy breasts almost flush with Thilza’s upper arm.“Are you and Fincros related?”
Thilza was aware of the breasts. He accidentally-on-purpose moved his arm so that they rested against him.
“Not by blood. Although I think my sire did nail Fincros’mother back when she first came to us. Does it make us brothers of a sort?”
Rosamma’s insides twisted.
Thilza wasn’t saying that for shock value. No, he was merely sharing a fact of their life on Sir-Sar, and doing so indifferently at that.
“Wow,” Fawn said.“Did the Striker, like, avenge his mother?”
“The Striker,” Thilza chuckled.“A fledgling then. What could he do? It took him years to mature into what he is today. Hard years. Long…”
Thilza inhaled from the pipe.
Rosamma shivered, uncomfortable.
That planet, Sir-Sar, had been a netherworld unlit by a single virtue. As the pirates’birthplace, it explained so much of their behavior.
“We worked side by side at Metalworks, Fincros and I,” Thilza continued.“Been through a lot together, and sometimes at each other’s throats. More like that, yeah. Old story, nothing special. Now everyone’s dead. Blown up by the defenders. Bloop—and gone. Like bad seed.”
“Bro, that’s so harsh.”There were real tears in Fawn’s eyes.
Thilza grinned then and blew smoke into their faces.
“I dunno. Being supervised by Nud while cleaning oil buildup on all fours is pretty damn harsh, too, if you ask me.”
He made Fawn laugh.
They shared the pipe again. He openly placed a hand high on her firm thigh. She didn’t mind.
Rosamma rose, tugging Fawn’s stretchy shirt to make her move.
“We should go back to the Cargo Hold.”
The tugging accidentally revealed the top of one white, round breast, almost to the nipple.
Flushing, Rosamma promptly let go of the fabric.
Thilza seemed absorbed by the breast.
“What’s at the Cargo Hold?” Fawn pouted, making no effort to adjust her shirt.
Her eyes grew bleary and shiny at the same time. Bright pink tinted her sweet, dimpled cheeks.
She was brazenly leaning against Thilza.
“Actually, you go,” she said.“I’ll be back in a few.”
“Fawn, I don’t think you should…” Rosamma switched to their language.
“Should what?” Fawn snapped.“Go! I’m so bored with you all.”
