Rocket to Love - Part 1 (of 3)

ROCKET TO LOVE Chapter 1 Part 1

Present Day - Navigating the Oberon Outlaw to The Big Rig Fuel and Casino

Don’t get me wrong; usually, I’m as happy as a Martian in a mosh pit sitting alone in my garbage hauler. It’s nice to get a break from being chased by loan sharks and bill collectors. But driving space transport is a lonely job, and I’d love some friendly company. In fact, I’m getting desperate enough to try that new dating show because – here I am again –a week alone in this stinky ship, and getting older by the lightyear.

My crackling radio provides a black market uplink to Churchill Downs back on the home planet.

And Streakin’ For Love comes in last, the ninety-nine to one long shot not surprising anyone today in the three hundredth running of the Kentucky Derby!

Slamming my hand down on the console, I mutter, “Streakin’ For Last, more like it.”

There goes all of my advance on this dodgy job. Streakin’ for Love was supposed to be a sure thing, according to Doran, my favorite bartender. I told the drink slinger that I’d go on a real date with him if the horse won and his tip paid off.

(Okay, maybe I’m a tiny bit relieved the horse lost. Doran has a bad reputation with the ladies, even though I have a crush on the guy. What woman doesn’t? Once I almost let him have his way with me…)

BANG.

My hauler gets hit by a bit of space debris, and the cargo in the hold clunks like an old transmission. I grit my teeth, and the dehydrated noodles I had for lunch slither in my belly. I’m not sure those heavy boxes filled with bags of ‘I-don't-wanna-know' in my hold are legal. If things go sideways on delivery, it’d be nice to have some backup. Another good reason to find a companion. I let myself daydream for a moment...

I see myself cuddling up with a muscled grease monkey with an ear for betting tips. Or maybe an astro-engineer – a man as handy with a wrench as he is with designing new spaceships. Perhaps, a quantum philosopher who would regale me with deep insights into the universe. Better yet, if I’m wishing for things, why not a sugar daddy quintillionaire tycoon, and I’ll never have to labor again?

Nah. I like keeping busy. Being a kept Jam Tart would never work for me. What I really want is a fun friend. Just a reliable guy to keep me out of trouble –most of time –except when I want him to get INTO trouble with me. Speaking of busy, I better pay attention to my flying!

BANG BANG.

Two meteoroids bounce off the hood, and the ship lists dangerously to the right. More thunking from below. My gut twists. I’ve done enough hauling to identify cargo by how it slides around my hold. If I’m a betting woman –and I am –I’m putting my money on packets of EtherBliss. Very expensive and highly illegal. Makes users feel like every particle in their body is floating around their heads. I tried it once, but it's not my favorite drug. This job requires a clear head and quick wit.

Peering out the viewport for more floating junk, I catch a glimpse of my reflection: wild black hair and violet eyes with just a few crow’s feet crinkling the corners. Hey, I should look way worse after a week in this duct-taped tin can that smells like old sandwiches and rancid grease. Ten years ago, I could have been a glamour influencer or an astral model, but apparently my personality is as prickly as those little spindlecrabs that scuttle around on Oberon. Anyhow, I gambled away my college money.

Not my smartest financial move.

My Pappy not only refused to give me more cash but also kicked me out of the house. Rent on Earth is nuts, so I relocated to Oberon. It’s an armpit planet, but I’m traveling the astro-routes most of the time. Plus, it’s home to my favorite gambling parlor and pub, The Big Rig Fuel and Casino. Apparently, it’s also home to a lying bartender and his bad betting tips. Dang Doran. There’s something about that man that drives me crazy. Whew! I’ve got to stop thinking about that night last month. One weak moment…

I do love playing the ponies, though.

So here I am at thirty. Uneducated, underpaid, and single. The only things I own are my garbage hauler and my gambling problem.

You’d think it’d be easy to find a boyfriend in an industry dominated by men. Very few women in this rough, shitty profession. But who wants to date the dregs of the galaxy? And trust me, the men ain’t saints in the racing parlors I like to hang out at. What I need is a loyal and smart companion. A guy I can depend on when life gets hairy.

That’s why I decided to try the reality speed dating show, Rocket to Love. I got a few friends who’ve found their life mates on it –rumored to be the best matchmaking service in the galaxy. I saw the call for contestants on SPACE TV and you can just show up. It’s also being filmed on my home planet right in the best pub in the universe. I hemmed and hawed about going –but, like I told you –I’m getting kind of lonely.

It’s a gamble, right? Who knows if Cupid’s arrow will find me on a dratted TV show but there are only so many convos a lady can have with herself. This dodgy load doesn’t need to be delivered for a day, so I swallow my nerves and set the autopilot to Oberon. Meanwhile, I close my eyes and remember my first intimate encounter with Doran… A whole month ago. And I haven’t been able to get this man out of my mind since.

The next chapter drops on Wednesday, August 13th! For this week’s 🌶🌶🌶, keep reading below. (Note: This is the kind of content I am going to be keeping behind the paywall. But for a month, it’s free!!!)

One Month Ago - The Big Rig Fuel & Casino

It’s one of those hot nights, the kind that makes the sweat drip between my boobs and your thighs stick to vinyl chairs. Kind of like how my legs were glued right now at the Big Rig Oil and Casino. Bare thighs stuck to the cheap plastic of the seat. But that wasn’t why I was stuck to the bar.

Damn Doran. Why does he have to be so sexy?

It was late, and I was exhausted after delivering that last load. I knew I should get my butt off this stool and head back my space hauler, but there was something about the bartender’s green eyes that has me riveted. Doran’s eyes are deep and calming. God, this guy is so sexy. I don’t normally go for mixed race aliens, but this man is hotter than any human man. Though there is plenty of what I like in my species about him. That thick dark hair, well-toned body, strong jaw line, big powerful hands.

My breath quickens just thinking about what he could do with those hands.

He’s half human, and perhaps… Oberian? His skin has that golden tint that comes from the planet’s two suns. My mouth goes dry as his enormous biceps flex when he picks up the icy vodka bottle. But then his eyes narrow and he put my favorite poison back on the shelf.

Instead he fills a champagne flute with sparkling water.

I clear my throat and ask, “What are you doing? The Oberon Outlaw is parked just outside the Casino. I can get as smashed as I like tonight. No drinking and flying.”

Doran leans onto the counter, almost tickling my nose with the dark hairs peeking out of his shirt. He has the top two buttons undone, revealing a stretch of tanned skin and more than your average amount of hair. I wonder how much hair he has all over his body…

“Maybe I don’t want you smashed tonight. Maybe I need you to have a clear mind.”

“Why’s that?”

He gave me a saucy grin. “Maybe… you won’t be sleeping in your garbage hauler tonight, Roxie.”

“Oh ya?” I could hear the little squeak in my voice as my pulse quickened. Lord what was this man proposing? “Presumptuous, aren’t you?”

“I prefer confidently hopeful.” He leaned forward, his mint-flavored breath tickling my ear. “I thought you might want to spend the night with me.”

Oh god. He smells so good. “Whatever gave you that idea.”

I licked my lips. Of course I knew what was giving him the idea.

Doran gave a low chuckle and didn’t bother to answer. Instead he gently brushed his full lips against mine. Not kissing me, just touching me. Every cell in my body screamed that I wanted him. I leaned in and flicked out my tongue, just touching his lower lip.

He groaned, holding still. I did it again, and he pulled me over the bar, two arms around my shoulders and two around my waist. He sat me down gently on the counter –facing him and kneed my legs apart.

I blushed and looked around the bar… it was empty. Somehow all the late night drinkers had left without me noticing. Okay. Not somehow. I was obviously so enraptured with the bartender that the rest of the galaxy was invisible.

My skirt, which was short and tight, wouldn’t spread wide enough for him to slip in close to me, so I put my hands on the bar and hauled myself up an inch.

Doran groaned, pushed my skirt up to my hips, and I gave a private thanks that I’d chosen a nice pair of underwear before going out. A lacey black thong that wouldn’t disturb the lines of my skirt. Doran gave a low curse as he paused. “We should at least go on a few official dates, Roxie. Let me take you to dinner tomorrow.”

I leaned forward and kissed him, ever so gently. “Well, we’ve already done drinks.” I nodded to my empty shot glass.

He backed up a step and I saw a noticeable bulge in his jeans. “You know what I mean,” he growled.

I bit my lower lip and didn’t say anything. Of course, I knew what he meant. Doran was constantly asking me out and I was just as constantly turning him down. Though I found him wildly attractive, dating the most notorious player this side of the Earth sun was a sure way to heartbreak.

I murmured, “I know you’re not the kind to get tied down.” I gave him another gentle kiss, just feathering my lips on his.

“Lord, Roxie, you’ve always driven me crazy.” He crushed his lips onto mine and the kiss sent a shock through me right down to my belly. “I’ve wanted you for so long…”

For a moment, I let myself lean into his kiss. Enjoying it. Imagining what it would be like to slide his jeans over his hips. But then I pushed him away and flipped my legs over to the customer side of the bar. “I’ve got to get an early start tomorrow.”

Doran turned on the soda water and sprayed his thick black hair with it, cool water sprinkled on my face as he shook like an oversized dog. “Roxie, you will be the death of me.”

I laughed, my blood cooling as the fizzy water dripped onto my shirt. “I’m far more dangerous in your bed than out of it. This is doing you a favor.” With that, I gave him a wink and walked out of the bar before I could change my mind.

His deep, voice followed me out of the bar. “Until next time Roxie Vega!?”