15. Bet

fifteen

Cam

I've never been a confident person.

Decisive? Yeah. Straightforward? Sure. But confident may as well be a foreign word.

Not concerning my appearance, I've truly never cared too much about that. I can't change how I look, not without surgery, and besides, I have my father's nose.

My insecurities appear more on the social side of things. My dad never liked the term "introvert." He always said that people used it like it was a dirty word, like it meant you were cold or miserable. He also said it completely defeated the purpose of my middle name, "felicity," which means happiness. Sorry, Dad.

So, he called me his Wallflower. I've come to learn in recent years that the term isn't much better. But that's beside the point. The point is: I've always had trouble saying the right things. But Violet? Words flow out of her mouth like she's a poet. During sex, at least. Otherwise, she's more of a parrot.

7"Your pussy is so fucking wet for me, isn't it?" Violet mumbles, her fingers pumping inside of me.

They glide in and out effortlessly. I roll my hips, my clit brushing against the top of her thigh as I ride her small, calloused fingers. I groan. "Don't stop."

Violet's eyes shoot open, pure purpose written across her face in the form of a taunting smirk.

"When are you going to stop telling me what to do?" she asks. Her legs hook around the backside of mine, and she rolls her body over until my back lands on my worn jersey sheets.

"What was that?" I huff, blowing a strand of hair off my forehead. "Krav Maga?"

"Jiu jitsu," Violet answers, dropping the information so casually. Her fingers wrap around my waist and slowly pull until I have turned onto my side. Then, she grabs my thigh, tugging on it gently until it forms into an arch. A hesitant feeling grows in my gut, my stomach twisting nervously, but I comply. Violet stays at the foot of the bed, slowly pulling her legs out from under her.

"Um, I don't—" I swallow, worried I might say all the right things to ruin this situation. Violet's gaze focuses onto me, her head tilting slightly to the left.

"Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?"

There is no question as to what my answer is. No. I might not have any idea what she's planning to do, but still. Positively and definitively "no."

I shake my head, and a sly smirk creeps across Violet's lips.

"Use your words, Princess," she mocks but still doesn't place her hands back on me. I roll my eyes.

"No," I say, making sure my voice comes off more confident than I actually feel. Violet nods, settling herself between my legs.

"Okay, well if you want me to stop, let me know, okay? Should we set a safe word?"

"I think ‘stop' is a good one," I say snarkily.

Violet's brows raise for just a beat before falling again. "You'd be surprised," she murmurs, her cheeks flushing. "Alright. Just tell me to stop, and I will."

I nod and watch as Violet slips her leg underneath my left one, the skin on her thigh softer than the sheets we're laying on. Then, her other leg begins to move, gliding over the top of that very same leg. Her hips move forward, heat radiating between us as she presses herself against me. Even though she hasn't done anything yet, a needy pulse thrums from my clit, begging for friction. I swear I could come just from the contact of her wet pussy on mine.

"Fuck," I mutter.

Violet quirks an eyebrow. "That is the idea, yes."

I ignore her because her hand grips my arm, and she slowly begins to roll her hips, her slick pussy grinding against my clit. Holy shit.

Why did I think this was a myth? Maybe it is because this feels too fucking good to be true. A soft suction forms between us as Violet continues rotating her hips. My breath hitches, my fingers gripping the sheets desperately as Violet's head rolls ba—

"Stop!"

I don't even realize that the word came out of my mouth until Violet's head snaps forward. Her eyes grow wide. My chest heaves, my head shaking, as I try to figure out where the fuck that word even came from.

"Wait no-don't stop," I say, completely tripping over every word in the sentence. Violet's grip on my arm loosens but doesn't quite let go. I swallow. "I just, I haven't done this before. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

The concern on Violet's face is quickly washed over with relief, then a hint of amusement.

"You're on the bottom, sweetheart." She smirks. "You just lay there and look pretty. Cheer me on, maybe."

My brows furrow, and I look up at her. God, she's fucking gorgeous. The tattoos on her arms aren't nearly her only ones. Earthy artwork is painted across her entire body, waves outlining the curves of her perfect, luscious tits, and forests climbing each muscular tanned leg. Vines wrap around her torso like a jungle, and fuck, just call me George. Her facial piercings aren't the only ones she has either. No, not there. But silver bars pierce through each brown nipple, and a little green gem rests at the gap of her navel. I don't know how I hadn't noticed them before. And now that I know they're there, I don't think I'll ever be able to think about anything else.

But none of those things are what makes Violet beautiful. All of that is sexy, sure. But there's more to her than the artwork painted on her body and the silver embedded in her skin.

It's her dark lashes, those mossy hazel eyes. The freckle sitting on the bridge of her nose that I'm just now noticing. The curve of her waist, the prominent bulge of her muscles underneath her skin. But the thing that makes Violet the most beautiful is the fact that she cares if I'm okay. If I'm enjoying myself. If I'm comfortable.

Cody sure as hell never did that.

"So, what? I'm just a Pillow Princess?" I ask, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Isn't that your royal duty, as the Ice Princess?" she teases. Her hips budge subtly, just once, as if to ask for permission. I can't think of anything I want more than for her to keep going. I nod, and Violet presses herself back against me, the warm wet friction gliding between us.

Moans fill the air, Violet's grip on my bicep tightening, my fingers around a fistful of sheets doing the same. Though some might say this is a ticket to hell, something about it feels so heavenly. Like white-hot energy. Sweat beads on the crown of Violet's forehead, as she rolls her hips in heated desperation. I swear she's glowing, her head tilted back as a string of curses leave her pretty little mouth.

"Fuck, Cam," she moans, and the sound of my name coming out of her mouth in such a hungry plea is almost enough to tip me over the edge.

"God, Violet, please," I whine, though I can't say for sure that it's audible. That's fine. She doesn't need the ego boost. Her hips buck, her fingers sinking into my arm so hard I'm sure it will leave bruises, but I don't care. I don't care about anything that isn't the wet pressure between us. I start to roll my hips too, thrusting upward as the friction between us tightens. Violet's head tosses back, her eyes rolling and her lip quivering as she lets out a loud moan.

"Fuck, I'm—" I stutter, my face hot, my pulse thready. I close my eyes. "I—"

I can't get my vocal cords to work in the way I want them to, but Violet knows exactly what I'm trying to communicate.

"Look at me," she commands, somehow gaining enough composure to hold her head upright. My stomach shakes, and I don't know how my body can be so malleable and so tense at the same time. Through my furrowed brows and flickering lashes, my eyes dart up to hers. I close them again.

"I can't—" She pushes, this time the top of her thigh rubbing against my swollen clit.

"You either look me in the eye, or you watch me fuck this tight, wet pussy of yours. But you aren't going to stare at the back of your eyelids while you beg for me. You aren't going to miss a single moment of this."

Jesus fucking Christ.

At this point, I'm so desperate I can't argue with her. My eyes flutter open, landing back on hers as she grinds against me, her supple breasts bouncing against her ribcage.

Pressure builds inside of me, a tight coil forming in my stomach as the heavy thrum between my thighs heats up even further, Violet's eyes holding mine hostage. She sucks her lower lip between her teeth, watching me like she's on a mission. To be fair, she is.

I can hear my own heartbeat, pounding in my head as an unbridled moan forces its way out of me. Who knew trying new things could feel so fucking good?

"Fuck, Violet!"

The corner of her lip turns upward, and she leans over, maintaining eye contact as her teeth sink into the skin of my knee.

My legs shake uncontrollably, my knuckles turning white as a wave of heat washes over me. My toes curl against the sheets. Violet's voice, begging me to come.

"Come on baby," she whispers. "Just like that."

My back arches like the curve of a crescent moon, moonlight crashing over me in a sweaty, panting heap.

The tension in my body releases, and my muscles slowly ease. The unsteady flow of air in my lungs finds its natural rhythm, and I exhale slowly, controlled.*

Violet slides off me and rests against the bed, pulling the thin white sheet over only half of her body. I pull myself up, so my back rests against the creaky headboard.

"Good new or bad new?" she asks breathily, like her lungs still haven't caught up with her. My face flushes as I glance at her, then to the ceiling.

"Good."

I'm not looking at Violet, but I just know she's smirking. She takes a steadying breath, tracing up my calf with her finger.

"So, are you going bowling on Monday?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "You waste no time making conversation."

She shrugs. "Life is short."

There's an unofficial, optional "team meetup" next week at Pacific Pins Bowling Alley. Optional for everyone, except me. Adrian is lucky they have a very cute pouty face.

"Unfortunately," I mumble, peeling a piece of lint off the damp bedsheet. Violet's finger pokes my leg, making my thigh jiggle.

"Well, at least you'll have me." She wiggles her eyebrows, a goofy grin spread across her face. I roll my eyes.

"Double unfortunate."

Violet lets out a bright laugh, and if that is the only sound I ever get to hear again, I won't be mad. She might be annoying, with her constant talking and permanent smile. But that laugh is something I couldn't hate if I tried. I know, because I have tried.

"Shut up." She shoves my knee gently. "You like me."

My brows drop, my eyes snapping over to her.

"Do not," I bark, pulling my leg away so it no longer makes contact with hers. Violet props herself up on her forearm, her nipples peeking out from under the thin white sheet.

"I've never hate-fucked someone before," she says, shooting me an unconvinced glance. "But I'm pretty sure that wasn't it."

I shake my head, like the words will fly out of my ears if I try hard enough.

"No," I say convincingly, but I'm starting to wonder who it is I'm trying to persuade. I don't like Violet in any way, shape, or form. Other than physically, of course. She pushes my buttons and pisses me off. She never stops talking and always has that stupid smirk glued to her face. "I don't like you. You bother me, actually. Like, a lot."

Violet's tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth once. "And here I was, thinking we were in the makes of a beautiful friendship."

I know she's joking. The slight curve of her lips and the jade-toned sparkle in her eye gives it away. Still, a strange feeling forces its way into my stomach, settling uncomfortably between my ribcage.

She's testing me. Seeing if she can push me to the point of admitting something that simply isn't true. Seeing if she can get me to break my own rules. While I may follow her commands during sex, I won't have her push me around in the real world.

"Violet, I like two people." I put a finger up. "Adrian." And then another. "And Hayden. You…" I poke her with a little more force than she had poked me with, and her head falls to the side in a curious stare. "You have not yet made your way onto that list."

Those warm, full lips part into a smile.

"Yet," she repeats, dragging out the word to torture me. I huff.

"God, your ego really is huge, isn't it?"

Violet quirks an eyebrow, her head tilting slightly. "It's not ego, it's optimism."

I roll my eyes.

"You can call a horse a carrot, but it doesn't make it true."

Violet cackles, clutching her chest and kicking her feet.

"What kind of saying is that?"

"The point is, you need to be put into your place. God, I can't wait to go bowling."

This grabs Violet's attention, her interest piqued. I can tell by the way she looks at me, curiosity filling her eyes.

"Huh?"

"I'm going to kick your ass," I say boldly. Very boldly actually because I haven't been bowling a day in my life. But I had to say something to curb Violet's ego. "I think you need a little humility."

Violet snorts.

"Me? You should hear yourself Little Miss I'm-Gonna-Kick-Your-Ass." Just as she says it, something flickers in Violet's eyes, and I'm terrified as to what twisted thought has just entered her mind. She smiles devilishly, her pupils dilating enough to hide most of her irises. Why do I feel like I've just made a mistake?

"Hmm," she says, acting as if she is deep in thought. I'm sure whatever it is will be a rather testy epiphany.

"What?" I grumble, ready to get it over with. Her eyes dance around the room slowly, until they finally land on me.

"What if—" Her gaze darts to my lips, then back up to my eyes. "What if we make a bet?"

Here we fucking go.

"A bet?"

She nods. "Yes, a bet."

I roll my eyes, holding my hands out in a "why-are-you-like-this" gesture.

"For what?"

"For fun? I know it isn't your thing—" I scowl. "But most people actually want to have fun. Myself included."

"I can have fun," I snap, completely proving her point.

"Oh yeah," she says sarcastically. "You're a real bundle of joy."

I cross my arms defensively. I can have fun. I have fun all the time. That night in the storage closet? Fun. I'm fun.

"Try me."

I know I'm falling for it. I'm stepping right into her trap. But I can't help it.

"A bet then," she declares, holding out her hand.

I scoff loudly, putting extra emphasis behind the "umph" as I eye her hand suspiciously.

"I'm not making a bet with you."

Violet nods expectantly, drawing her hand back. Something about the gesture just irritates me more. She was waiting for me to decline. Expecting it. Like I couldn't have fun even if I tried.

This isn't about fun. It's about safety. I wouldn't put it past Violet to let something stupid slip out of her mouth in front of everyone.

"That's a terrible idea. You can hardly keep your mouth shut as it is. Plus, that has to violate the contract in some way." I shake my head, a dryness forming in the bottom of my throat. I know it doesn't violate the contract because I wrote it. But I needed to say something to get this idea out of her head.

"Nothing in the contract prohibits a bet. What?" Violet asks sweetly. "Scared you're going to lose?"

Yes, actually. I don't know exactly how I got myself into this situation, and I have no idea how I'm going to get out of it.

If I say no, Violet wins. Her point is proven that I'm no fun. But if I say yes, I will also probably lose. And I don't want to have to listen to her boasting about it for the next however long. I need to find a way out of this. And I need to be strategic. My eyes scan the room, nothing really catching my attention until they land on something that would make a little lightbulb appear above my head if we were in a cartoon. This might just be my one-way ticket out of this.

"What's the prize?"

Violet looks at me, her brow raised in a weary expression. "What?"

"The prize. Aren't you supposed to win something?" I ask.

Her smile turns devilish.

"If I win, you have to admit you like me."

I look at her, unimpressed. I can work with that. "Really? That's your prize? I thought bets were supposed to be high stakes," I taunt.

Violet frowns. "You have a short list, and I want to be on it. What, do you have a better one?"

I lean forward, tapping the empty space on her forearm where the tattoos suddenly stop.

"That," I say confidently. "If I win, I get to choose what goes there."

Violet tugs her arm away, faster than I'd expected.

"You want to pick my tattoo?" Her eyes are wide and round. "No way!"

"Fine," I say shrugging. "No bet."

Cam: One. Violet: Zero.

Violet's brows furrow, then turn pleading. "Can't you pick something else? Something less permanent?"

I shake my head.

"Sounds like the pleas of someone who's scared to lose," I tease. But the second I say it, I know I made a massive mistake. She clears her throat, sits up straight, then stretches out her small, calloused hand.

"Deal," she says firmly. I choke.

"What?"

"Let's do it. If you win, you get to pick my next tattoo. But—" She looks at me earnestly. "It can't be some stupid, random thing. It has to tie into the sleeve. I don't need a fucking transformer or some shit ruining thousands of dollars of work."

My lips part, my mouth agape. This wasn't part of the plan. My hand trembles as it grips hers and gives a meaningful shake.

"Deal," I say. Because I'm fucking fun.