Tropical Temptation Read online

  “We’ve been over this—”

  “I know,” Saric interrupted in agitation. He was fully aware of his mate’s insistence to not bring a female into their relationship. He didn’t want to hear Duran repeat himself—again.

  “I don’t think you understand,” Duran argued. “My thoughts on the matter haven’t changed.”

  Saric got up from the bed and began pulling on his own clothes, while agitation swirled in his chest.

  “You haven’t even given her a chance,” Saric accused. Duran sighed, and held out his hands in a placating gesture.

  “Saric, I like her, I honestly do. She’s incredibly beautiful, and kind. If we were looking for a female, she’d be at the top of my list too, but we aren’t.”

  Saric moved past him into the small kitchen area, and began plating their breakfast—just for something to do, and so that he didn’t have to look at Duran at the moment. His mate followed him and continued talking.

  “I don’t want a female mate. This isn’t something new, or something that I kept hidden from you. I’ve been telling you this for years, well before we agreed to bond ourselves together.”

  Saric spun to face him, his agitation turning into full-blown frustration.

  “No, you told me that you’d think about it,” Saric corrected. “You never said it’d just be the two of us forever.” Now Duran was addled too.

  “Do you want to bring in a third? Is that it? Because I’d be alright with that.” He waved his hand towards their front door. “Find an Earther male you like. If not here, we can go back to being active in the Defense, and you can look for another Arathian. But not a female.”

  Saric threw his hands up in exasperation. “I don’t understand… you like females, I know you do,” he argued. “Why, after all these years, are you still so determined to draw this line?”

  Duran’s expression hardened further, and Saric knew he was thinking of his childhood. A pang of regret tolled in his mind for forcing his mate to think about that unpleasant time of his life.

  “I don’t want children,” Duran stated coldly. Saric nodded. He knew this; it was the heart of the issue.

  “We can have a female in our lives and not have children,” Saric insisted. Duran scoffed.

  “Of course we can’t. Females lead to babies; it’s the natural order of things.”

  Saric shook his head in denial. “It doesn’t have to be. There are simple ways to prevent conception.”

  “I know that, but all females want babies.”

  Way to paint an entire gender with one big brush. Saric tried to calm his frustration, but Duran was making it impossible.

  “That’s a horrible excuse. Not every woman wants kids,” Saric argued. “Have you even bothered to ask Adrianna? Maybe she can’t have a baby… have you ever thought of that?”

  Duran walked past him to finish plating their food, then brought the two plates to their small table.

  “Be serious, Saric. They all want kids. Look at the Arathian females—it’s all they can talk about.”

  “That’s because they’re infertile!” Saric exclaimed to his mate’s back. “Don’t you see the difference? Our species is going extinct—of course it’s all we can talk about. So much of our resources have gone to finding a cure, and once they do, the topic will settle down. Things will eventually go back to normal.”

  Saric took a deep breath to regain his calm, and moved to sit at the table. He stabbed a fork into his food.

  “It’s a moot point anyway—we’re not leaving Aeonas anytime soon, but Adi is.” That made Duran pause, his fork mid-air.

  “What do you mean?”

  Saric finally looked up into his eyes. “She’s made the choice to move to Arath.”

  Duran didn’t immediately reply. He took a bite, chewed, and swallowed before telling Saric, “You should let her go, if that’s what she wants.”

  “It’s not what she wants,” Saric argued, shaking his head.

  “You can’t know that,” Duran insisted.

  “I can tell. She’s been unhappy and withdrawn, ever since…” Saric couldn’t finish the sentence. Thinking about what he’d told Adrianna—about how he’d rebuffed her—brought back the ache to his chest. He didn’t know if it was lingering pain of that night, or if he was remembering the pain he’d felt in the moment. Either way, it sucked.

  “Ever since she told you she loves you, and you turned her away,” Duran finished for him.

  Saric cringed back from his blunt words. Leave it to Duran to remove all emotion from the conversation and strip it to its bare bones. At least he noticed that his words had bothered Saric.

  “Look, I’m sorry,” Duran apologized. “I know you like her, and that telling her no must have been hard on you, but it was necessary.”

  “Was it?” Saric retorted icily, then softened his tone. “Once she leaves for Arath, she’s gone. All I’m asking is that you get to know her. Take the subject of kids off of the table for now, and see what happens. You might be surprised.”

  They spent a moment just looking into each other’s eyes. Saric knew that his expression was pleading, but he couldn’t help it. It was important to him—Adrianna was important to him—and what he’d said was true: once she left for Arath, there was very little chance they’d ever see her again.

  “Please do this for me,” Saric added. To his immense relief, Duran sighed deeply in acceptance.

  “I could never deny you anything,” Duran admitted, digging back into his meal. A wide smile broke out over Saric’s face.

  “Good. That’s the way I like it.”

  *****

  What the hell am I going to say to her? Duran asked himself as he headed to dinner that night. He’d been thinking about his and Saric’s argument the entire day while fishing, and had to admit that his mate had a few good points. Only a few. No need to go overboard.

  He also had to admit that he (begrudgingly) liked Adrianna. She wasn’t high-strung like other females, which he sincerely appreciated. In the short interactions they’d had over the years, she seemed kind and thoughtful; and there was also no denying the fact that he found her attractive. Her lush petite body with curves in all the right places… perfection—and a dangerous temptation.

  Duran hadn’t told his mate that he was also drawn to Adrianna, because he didn’t want to encourage him with a temptation they could never have. But everything had changed three months ago when Saric had come home and told him about his conversation with her. Saric had been completely dejected. Duran wasn’t blind: he knew that his mate had liked the Earther for a long time, and that rebuffing her had been hard on him. It’d taken Saric several days to get out of the funk he’d been in after that encounter. He’d let the subject of Adrianna drop, until that morning.

  Part of Duran was frustrated—they’d been over the subject of females time and time again! Saric was well aware of the fact that he didn’t want children. Duran’d made that clear well before they’d agreed to be mates, and his feelings on the matter hadn’t changed. Saric had said he was okay with it, but now it seemed that he’d changed his mind. It was frustrating.

  It wasn’t that Duran didn’t like kids (although it was partly because he didn’t like kids), it was that he’d had a difficult childhood, and didn’t want anyone else to go through what he’d endured.

  Duran had been born with a genetic disease which had harshly impacted his childhood. Arathian genetic diseases were rare, but this one was especially tenacious and devastating to its victims. The Earthers called it sickle cell anemia. To Duran, it was a nightmare that brought on long episodes of pain, swelling, and infections, which led to numerous hospital visits during his early years.

  Once he’d beaten the disease as a teenager (after a painful bone marrow transplant), he knew that he never wanted anyone to go through what he had. His illness had been attributed to the luck of genetics, so had vowed to himself that he’d never pass on his genetic code and risk his child having to go through the same
ordeal. It didn’t matter how far Arathian medicine had come since then… some things weren’t worth the risk.

  The easiest way to prevent children was to not have sexual relationships with females. His plan had been easier to enact than he’d imagined.

  He’d been fifteen years old when he’d recovered from his illness: a teenager who’d been homeschooled between his time in and out of the hospital. When he’d finally been able to attend a normal school, he’d been socially awkward and unsure of himself. To top it all off, he’d grown a full twelve-inches taller in just a few months, making him uncoordinated in his new body. He tripped constantly, was too skinny, and didn’t fit in—an easy target for ridicule. It’d taken a couple of years before he’d felt like he belonged amongst his peers, and a few more after that to come into his own.

  Duran hadn’t dated at all during those early teenage years, and only dated males once he’d gone to vocational training to become an engineer.

  After being recruited into the Arathian Defense (his way of seeing the universe) and getting assigned to the Adastra, he’d met Saric, and quickly fallen in love with the male. He’d stayed away from females completely—first out of awkwardness, then out of a refusal to be tempted into having children. The Arathians may have been infertile at the time, but he was certain that science would find a way to cure their race. Whatever female he was with, he was sure she’d want kids. So, when he and Saric were dating, he’d made it crystal clear that he wasn’t interested in females.

  That hadn’t been exactly true. He liked members of the opposite sex—a lot… Maybe a bit too much. Even his own mate, the person he was closest to in the universe, didn’t know how much he longed to be close to a female. They were a sort of enigma to him, since he’d been so determined to not grow any sort of romantic attachment to one that he hadn’t even had any female friends. Even now… living on the colony, he worked on a fishing boat that was crewed entirely by males. He spent his free time with Saric and some of his fellow fishermen, but never with females.

  He knew his habits were strange for an Arathian (or any other bi-sexual person), but to give in to his desire for a female was to open himself up to changing his mind about children. He wasn’t willing to risk it… Until now.

  Duran had promised his mate that he’d make an effort to talk to Adrianna; but would she want to talk to him. That was the real question. He saw her down the beach, and apprehension grew in his chest the closer he got. What was he supposed to talk to her about anyway? The weather? Lame, he scoffed.

  He watched her chop vegetables that she’d probably gathered herself, and admired her appeal. It was obvious what Saric saw in her. She had glossy black hair that was currently wound in a bun atop her head to keep it out of the way. Her eyes were brown, much darker than her skin, which was close to his own dark tan. She was quick to smile and laugh, and had an infectious brightness about her.

  He watched her interact with Ian Fletcher, a colonist who’d recently mated with an Arathian male and Earther female. He said something to her, which caused Adrianna to laugh heartily.

  Was she always so happy? Duran asked himself, but quickly corrected his thoughts. No, she hadn’t always been this happy. She’d only just regained some of her joviality.

  He’d seen her the day after she’d bared her heart to Saric, and she’d looked completely dejected. Duran remembered the moment well, since he’d never felt so much guilt. She’d looked at him with tears gathering in her eyes, and Duran could feel it just from her look; she’d known that he was the real reason Saric had broken her heart. It was just as bad as if he’d done it himself. And now, here he was, walking towards her with the intention of striking up a conversation.

  To his horror, he felt like he was an awkward teenager again. His heart began beating a staccato rhythm as anxiety whipped through him. Winged creatures beat in his stomach, and he was forced to wipe his sweaty palms on his cargo shorts.

  What the hell am I thinking?! This was a side of himself that he tried fervently to hide from the outside world. He’d come a long way since those first years after his recovery (and subsequent emergence into the “real world”), but he was now in danger of taking a massive back-slide into awkward-ville.

  But, he’d promised Saric—the most important person in the universe to him—that he’d try. It wasn’t an option to let his mate down. So, Duran found himself walking up to the Earther female. He stopped across the table from her, and took a deep breath to steady himself. She didn’t immediately look up, so he cleared his throat.

  Her eyes shot to his chest, then continued up (and up) to his face. Her automatic smile immediately fell.

  Shit. Not a good start.

  “Good evening, Adrianna,” he greeted, forcing a tight smile. He knew his expression was lacking, but it was the best he could manage at the moment.

  “Hello, Duran,” she acknowledged, then refocused on the vegetables she was cutting.

  She didn’t ask me to leave, or completely ignore me. That’s got to be something, right?

  “How are you?” he asked. It was the only thing he could think to say.

  “Fine. Thank you,” she answered in a soft voice, then resumed chopping. Silence stretched out between them. He had to plant his feet in place to prevent himself from fidgeting back and forth, but he did readjust the baseball hat he wore. (The Earther fashion was useful while fishing, and now he never left the cabin without it.)

  “May I… ahh… help you cut something?” Duran offered. That made her pause. She looked up at him with a slight v forming between her brows.

  “You’ve never helped before.”

  “True,” he admitted, a little ashamed that he’d never offered. But in his defense, each person living at the colony had their role, and his was to fish and provide food. He never prepared it—that was other people’s job.

  It’s not Adrianna’s job either, and yet, here she is. His thoughts made him feel even more guilty. He cleared his throat.

  “I’d like to help now, if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind,” she answered, to his relief, then scooted over to make room for him at the large cutting board. He moved around the table to her side, and she handed him a knife, handle-first.

  “Thanks.”

  He took a root vegetable out of the basket at their feet and began chopping, careful to keep the pieces relatively the same size as hers. They stood side-by-side chopping silently for several minutes, while the bustle of community buzzed around them. People began setting up seating, others laid fish on the racks to get it cooking, and some arrived on the beach to socialize. Down the beach beyond the fires, kids had gathered to play a quick game of futbol before dinner.

  He and Adrianna continued to work, and let the other noises flow over them. The lack of conversation between them didn’t bother Duran—he’d spent the vast majority of his youth alone and was used to it—but he wouldn’t get anywhere with Adrianna by them remaining silent.

  “How was your day?” he asked. His sudden inquiry made her pause for a couple of heartbeats before she resumed cutting.

  “It was fine. Yours?”

  “Very good. We caught an eel-shark,” he couldn’t keep the tinge of excitement from his voice.

  She nodded. “Yes, I saw it as it was being hauled onto the pier. Very impressive.”

  The compliment warmed him. Eel-sharks were large fish, around one-thousand pounds, that had a mouth full of teeth, and elongated bodies which made them resemble eels from Earth. They lived in the deeper part of the ocean. It was rare to come across one, and more rare to catch it.

  “Thank you. It certainly put up a good fight, but it was worth any sore muscles I’ll have tomorrow.”

  “Did you catch it yourself?” Adi asked. There was a tinge of surprise and (he hoped) appreciation in her tone.

  “I’m the one who hooked it, but it took so long to reel the bastard in that I had to let others take over a couple of times so that I could rest.”

 
She nodded her head and continued to chop. Keep the conversation going, he thought to himself.

  “How’s the gathering been going?” he asked.

  “Better than last season,” she replied. “I’m not sure if the gatherers are getting better at our jobs, or if the jungle is providing us with more food, but I’m grateful.”

  “Why?”

  “Gathering keeps me busy.”

  He wasn’t sure how to reply, so they fell back into comfortable silence.

  “You’re not too bad at that,” Adi commented. When Duran looked up in question, she gestured to the vegetables in front of him with her knife. He shrugged and continued chopping.

  “I learned out of necessity. Saric’s cooking is abysmal, so I realized early on that if I wanted to eat, I needed to make it myself.” She chuckled softly.

  “It’s good to know that he’s not perfect.”

  Duran snorted. “Perfect? Far from it; although I suppose none of us are perfect.”

  “True. I know I’ve made my fair share of mistakes.”

  Before he could question her further, their relative privacy was interrupted by others arriving at their table to help prepare dinner. Adrianna chatted merrily with each of them, finished chopping her portion of the vegetables, and began to move off to help somewhere else.

  “I’ll see you later, Duran. Thanks for helping,” she told him before she left. At least she gave him a small smile. That was something, right?

  Duran concentrated on finishing his task, but every so often he snuck glances at Adrianna kneading bread dough a few feet away at another table. No one could say she wasn’t a hard worker. Most people on the colony stuck to their assigned job, and only helped when asked. She seemed to jump in with whatever was going on. Either she liked to keep busy, or she was really just that hard of a worker.

  Either way, Duran learned a lot about her that evening. He learned that she was well-liked (although he already knew that), and that she knew everyone and was able to greet them each by name as they walked by. He’d also learned that she believed Saric to be perfect. Duran was sure she’d been exaggerating, but still, he’d seen the light in her eyes change when Saric’s name had been mentioned. It was clear that she’d been honest in her feelings: she loved him, and was currently nursing a broken heart.