The Bet

27) Too Well

I did a happy dance as Camila stood up from the choke hold she tapped out of.

"Told you that trick works on anyone," she chuckled as I boogied. "Even people that invented it," She mumbled under her breath with a had raised to rub her neck.

"You were right!" I celebrated, panting over the effort it took the win the match and execute my happy dance. "Is your neck okay?" I asked after I sobered up a bit, the grin on my lips turning shy.

She nodded with an easy smile. "No worries, Angel. I'm all good," she threw the reassurance over her shoulder as she sauntered off the mat to grab a sip of water. "You're getting better. I think you're officially back at full capacity," she called as she gestured me over to take a rest.

I followed her excitedly until we were standing face to face. "Oh my goodness, really?" I've felt back at full capacity for a few days now, but hearing she thinks so too makes my stomach burst with butterflies.

"Yes," she smirked, somewhat evilly. "Which means I won't be going easy on you anymore."

I was about to whine and pout about how I don't like to lose, but Camila distracted me with an arm wrapped around my waist that tugged me flush against her chest. It made the complaints get caught on my tongue.

"In any way," she reiterated with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Oh... that was an innuendo. Suddenly, it's twice as hard to make eye contact with the goddess and my thighs are clenched for their life.

"Speaking of fucking —" she started like she was just struck by inspiration.

Giggles erupted from me. "I can't with you," I shook my head fondly at her antics.

Camila promptly ignored my teasing and continued with what will undoubtably be an exceptionally lewd sentiment.

She leisurely leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Would you like to spend the night at my place and get fucked over every piece of furniture in sight?"

Oh boy, she's got a lot of furniture.

The words 'Yes, Mommy' were on the tip of my tongue, but then I remembered the date. I sighed, feeling a little disappointed and a smidge guilty. "Sorry, Mickey's award ceremony is today. I'm gonna watch and then take him to dinner with his friend, Carter." I admitted and then waited with bated breath for the other shoe to drop. I've had to turn her down a couple of times this week, because now that I am back at full capacity, life is too, and I can't help but feel like this is the time the big explosion happens. The big explosion that sends shrapnel flying in all directions, but especially mine.

  Of course, like every other time I couldn't give Camila her way, there was no explosion and no shrapnel, and I am left holding my breath over nothing, like an idiot, again.

  "Oh, right! I remember you mentioning that last week. No worries."

  Though, I have to admit I've never been happier to feel like an idiot.

  "Maybe I could just go with you?"

Cue what I imagine is the physical sensation of a record scratch. "Oh. . . Uh." What if she doesn't like where Mickey wants to eat? Or what I'm going to wear? Or Mickey's friend Cart —

  "Never mind," she suddenly chuckled. "I need to work on not inviting myself places."

I wanted to correct her. Tell her that she's perfect and should never change. . . But are we there yet? Are we at going to my little brother's award ceremony and celebratory dinner together level? Mickey has already met her, under unfortunate circumstances, but he still seemed to like her.

He called her to come into his house and nurse me back to health for crying out loud.

He would probably be okay with her coming along. . . But am I? This feels so intense so fast. Am I falling too hard, too quickly?

  "C'mon, Angel. Let's grab smoothies and then I can take you home." She threw a casual arm over my shoulder that made a warm gooey feeling seep through me, leaving me content and very agreeable.

Her understanding has spared me the trouble of going down a rabbit hole of doubt and worry and confusion. Who could blame me for being a little obsessed with her?

Camila's POV

  As bummed as I am that I can't fuck Samira into next week tonight, it has freed up some time to get to business.

"I don't care about some break in at the warehouse, Roy. It's your job to take care of things like that. I care about the fact that the first Cortez sibling has been back for weeks and no one bothered to tell me until now," I fumed after Roy told me the news.

  Not that you could really consider it NEWS anymore. It's more like olds.

This is not what I wanted to hear about when I walked into 'The Cave' this evening.

I wanted to be told, "Hey, Ma'am! Look how much money you made this month," not "Cortez 1.0 is back and causing trouble."

This is horrible olds, because a former gang leader coming to town and wreaking havoc means it's officially my job to do something about it, personally. And doing something about him takes away time from doting on Samira and making money, which are really the only two things I'm actually interested in at the moment. The rest is just for show.

For the rotten cherry on top of a painfully unappetizing cake, he's also picking on my business partner, Cortez 2.0. A woman that is the definition of a lose cannon under all that ice and steel, especially after her breakup with her little girlfriend.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. This is going to be a shit show.

"What should we do, Ma'am?" I heard Roy's stupid voice pipe up over my contemplation.

"Shut up and go away," I snapped.

I need time to think, and I know he'll be no help. If he had a solution, he would have opened with it. I've trained him well in that regard.

"Yes, Ma'am." He gave a curt nod and left without another word, leaving 'The Cave's' profits on a near by table on his way out.

  I leaned against the wall and rubbed my temples with a groan. I should have known things wouldn't keep going this well for long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note

It's short and uneventful, but I had to post SOMETHING. I've been getting creative writing withdrawals.

So sorry about the wait. I recently got a job that is VERY academic reading and writing intensive, and my major is the same way, so now even looking at words feels very much like a job.

  I REFUSE to stop creative writing though, so even though it might take a little longer, this isn't the last you'll see of me, or The Bet, or kinky lesbian smut.

  Thanks for sticking around<3

  And happy new year! Better late than never:)

~ Pepper