Checkmate

She tipped her head back, chuckling huskily. "Dollface, if you're a girl, I'm a baboon. And having been all naked together and everything, we both know neither statement is true. Besides, you're put together too nicely to be a girl." One fingernail moved over his neck and down his chest as her hips gave a rock and a twist.

She leaned her face close, not tall enough even in her heels to reach to a point of cheek to cheek, but she's close enough that she can speak in his ear. "What song you gonna sing for karaoke? Or are you going to make me do some cheesy duet?" She asked, laughter couched in her voice.

She set her steps, and then gave his hand a tug, pulling him close. She took his other hand, and instead of keeping them in hers, she placed either at her hips and led him through the crowd in that fashion. It was a sea of gyrating bodies, but Dominica seemed at ease flowing through it. She made it closer to the middle before the next song played. Here, she turned in his arms.

A familiar guitar rift played. And then the Latina moved. The crowd pressed them close, but it didn't bother the girl. Arms around his neck, she coaxed him to move to her rhythm. And waited to see how he'd decide to deal with this. Some men knew how to hold a woman while they danced together, and others didn't. Should be fascinating to see if he could move with her.

She tossed hers back with not even a shudder. And proceeded to pour another for the both of them. And downed the shot with the same ease. Crown always went down smooth. She stood up, the two shots settling themselves just fine in her stomach, warming her easily.

She braced her hands on Dante's knees, leaning down to look him in the eye. All signs of the troublemaker are there in her eyes. "So, what do I have to bribe you with to get you to dance with me." Even if he's a man that dances, she's still more than willing to play this game.

A barmaid bustled up, ready to take their order. Dominica settled her eyes on the woman, greeting her in Spanish. After the greeting, she swithced back to English in deference to Dante's not knowing what she's saying. "I'd like a bottle of Crown Royal, and a bottle of Cabo. Limes and glasses of water, as well." The girl didn't even write, she just nodded and melted off back into the crowd.

"I'm a regular here, dollface. I've been coming here for about...5 years now. Plus, this is my neighborhood. Grew up two blocks over. I had my first job serving here." She said as she leaned her arms on the table. "Now, once this liquor gets here, we're gonna have to make this a challenge. Make it interesting. There's pool for later, and karaoke will be starting up." She leaned close, inches from him. "But, I want to see if you can keep up with me. And a big man like you should be able to drink with me. But how do we make it worthwhile? Tell me what you'd want to win."

He'd wanted to go out and drink with her. Experience the sort of fun she found her way into. She could make that happen, but he'd have to step out of his comfort zone. He might even look at it as slumming, but the street rat knew her roots. This was where she'd grown up. Already, the smells were all too familiar. Spice, heat in the air. It had been a cool day, so the streets weren't unbearably hot.

Her heels clicked  in the rhythm of her steps, and to the faint drum on the air. On a balcony above them, someone had set up a rhythm, and another coaxed the strings of a guitar to play a plaintive chord. Babies cried, the faint blare of T.V.s could be heard. The streets were a little dirty. The various individuals that skulked and leaned against walls appeared unsavory.

Still, the Spanish chiquita strolled. The leather pants hugged her hips and thighs lovingly, yet easily concealed all but the toe and heel of her boot. The top, a black slinky fabric, had lacing at the sides that showed peaks of skin, the same sort of pattern down her spine. Skin was covered, yet curves were on display.

Despite rough appearances, none of the men were stupid enough to catcall or comment, though eyes followed the girl. Here, the Black Butterfly didn't exist. But Dominica Cruzas had her own reputation. Likely a few wondered about the blonde pretty boy beside her, though.

"Spanish Harlem. I won't say she'll welcome you, but if you stick with me, you'll find all the places worth knowing." She said lightly, voice a purr, contralto from the clove she currently smoked.

That flinching is noted. It gave the answer she'd been looking for. Her foot carefully, surreptitiously moved away from his leg, tucked against her own body. He scooted closer, and she barely supressed the automatic urge to follow his first reaction. To keep the distance between them.

Lashes still lowered while he spoke, she listened quietly to what he said. It took her long moments before she gave her own opinion. Still, she kept those indigo eyes hidden. "I don't want things to change, and I don't want us to act differently with one another. I suppose the next question is this. Does this shift anything for us? Do we keep things this way, or do we pretend we didn't do this?" She gestured to her bare form. 

Her lips parted almost in the same fashion his did. There was a certain amount of relief she found that they could still look at one another. Her hair was a tangled nimbus around her head. She finally bit the bullet, speaking with hesitation, softly.

"I...have no idea what I should be saying. What needs saying. I just know something has to be said. Madre de Dios. I'm making a mess of this." She groaned quietly, releasing his eyes to bury her face in her arms.

Clothing was strewn through 2 rooms and the hallway. Somehow, playful became way more than it had ever been, and impulse became the name of the game. Two adults doing what adults did, yet they were friends that didn't do that. At least not before.

Now, there was little denying that they did, they had and...wow. Dominica laid flat on her back, body still buzzing faintly. The sweat on her skin was beginning to cool, her breath had long since evened out, and one hand remained flung out toward the edge of the very big bed she swam in currently.

Dante's warm body was close, yet not too much so. She slid her eyes to her right carefully, not really wanting to be caught looking. She really did try to focus on the ceiling above her. It didn't work.

Did that seriously just happen? I didn't realize... Dio, I hope this doesn't completely **** this friendship up. Does he want me to go? Should I just get dressed as if nothing happened? Is this all he wanted from me? Best goddamn sex you've ever had, and you ended up in bed with a good friend. Smooth, Nica. Real smart. Self destructive much?****.