His Games, Her Rules

“Voila, what do you think?” Monique appears in my room as she does a 360 and poses for me, a smirk gracing her lips.

I swivel around in my dresser chair as I look at her, glancing at the outfit and her look.

“Are you gonna say something anytime soon?”

“Don’t you think it’s a little slutty?”

“Great. That’s what I was going for.” She says as she smiles and walks toward my dresser mirror, standing beside me as she cleans the smear of lipstick on the corner of her lips and smacks her lips together.

“I thought we were going for hot-and-sexy today,” I say, running my fingers through my wavy hair as I stare at my reflection in the mirror.

“Ugh. I thought this looked good.”

“You look good, really. With the whole denim shorts and crop top and boots. I’m wearing a dress.”

“Yeah, you should fit that tight ass in a dress. You’re not gonna get some in some jeans anyway.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wearing jeans.”

“I know. But men stare at women in dresses more than they stare at women in jeans.”

I sigh, tucking my hair behind my ear as I stare at my reflection. Why the fuck am I backing out? I thought tonight was about getting laid.

“Why do I have a feeling you’re about to back out?” Monique asks, swiveling the chair around so we’re staring at each other.

I breathe out and stand up as I walk toward my closet. “I’m not. I’m just rethinking my life choices, that’s all.”

“Tonight should be about you getting your hands on a really sexy man and getting laid, but you’re not gonna achieve that by overthinking,” Monique says as she follows me into my walk-in closet.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

“Huh-uh.” I hum, skimming through the countless dresses on the rack as I pull out a burgundy dress and remove it from the hanger.

Why am I putting a lot of thought into this? I think I know why. It’s because I’ve had a few meaningless sex with men from clubs and I hated it the minute the deed was done. The sex was good, I was just not a fan of meaningless sex and sometimes it was pointless because I didn’t get an orgasm.

But with what’s going on in my head lately and the fact that I’ve been overworking myself, I feel like I owe myself this. You know, getting off without actually using my vibrators and my fingers.

“You’re afraid you’re gonna regret it.” Monique points out as I get out of my robe to put on the dress.

“Partially, yeah. And also because I feel like it wouldn’t be worth it, you know?”

“It’s sex, Robyn. It’s supposed to be pleasurable and not memorable. You’re not losing your virginity over again.”

“God, I hate you.” I groan, pulling up the dress and adjusting it until it’s perfect.

“Hot,” Monique says, referring to my dress as I walk past her to my full-length mirror to stare at my reflection.

“When did you get this?” Monique asks as I twirl a little to stare at the back of the dress.

“A month ago. I saw it online, and thought I should add it to my collection.”

“Online where?”

“Shein. And it’s pretty cheap.” I say.

The dress is a bodycon dress, mid-thigh, a deep cowl-neckline, and a halter neck. It’s silk, so it feels pretty great against my skin. I grab a clear, open-toe, four-inch stilettos and put it on.

“Wow. You look sexy as fuck. I’m a little jealous.”

“You could still wear a dress.” I wink at Monique as I check myself out in the mirror. “Don’t you think you should wear a jacket?” I ask as I walk toward my bag stand and grab a white purse.

“Nah, I’m good. I can handle a little cold.” Monique smirks at me.

“Ready to hit the club then?” I ask.

“Yup.”

***

There was a long line outside Club Rogue when we arrived, but Monique and I didn’t wait in line. Monique flashes the bouncer a gold card and he lets us through.

The interior looks better than the last time we were here. The walls are pristine with blue and red lights slowly fading in. There are two circular stages with two strippers already on the poles entertaining the men. On the left side is the dance floor, with a few people on it dancing and gyrating to the party music booming around the club. There are a few white circular booths and barstools surrounding the booth in a corner facing the dance floor.

The top is the VIP level, with glass panels barricading the edge of it so that people can lean over and watch the down level. Monique’s gold card could get us through but the real fun lies below. We head to the bar area and occupy the vacant seats.

“I guess I’m the DD tonight then,” Monique says, signaling at the bartender.

“We could get a cab or an Uber.”

“Then come back here to get my car when I’m supposed to be nursing a hangover?” Monique gives me a calculated look as she smirks. “Don’t worry, hon. I’m gonna be the designated driver today. I just need a few shots and water afterward.” She clicks her tongue as she drums her fingers on the bar top.

“Hello, beautiful ladies.” The tatted bartender greets us with a flirtatious smile.

“Hi. We’ll get one Negroni and ten Tequila shots, please.”

“Sure.” The bartender says as he leaves.

“Do all bartenders need to be flirtatious though?” I ask.

“Yeah. It’s part of being a bartender. How else are they gonna get tips?”

I chuckle, briefly scanning around the club. One of the perks of being one of the most popular clubs in the city is the customers that usually visit. Not just regular people, but wealthy and important men of society, and right now some of these important men are busy throwing cash at the strippers.

For a person who’s running away and always looking over her shoulders, I know I shouldn’t be partying in popular clubs, especially in a city like New York. Anyone from my past could see me and recognize me. But tonight is about having fun and forgetting, even if it’s for a second, that my life is not perfect.

I turn away from the men throwing money at strippers to stare at Monique who’s busy texting someone.

“Dave?” I ask as Monique looks up at once. I give her a knowing look as she blushes. “Oh, boy.”

“We may have exchanged numbers.” Monique bites her bottom lip.

I grin at her. “Of course.”

“He’s cool. I still have my fingers crossed. For now, he’s just a good fuck.”

“Right…” I drawl, smirking at her as I wiggle my eyebrows. Monique giggles. “You’re a sucker for romance and hot guys, everyone knows that. And that may be scary.”

“Oh, come on. As long as I’m not hurting anyone, I don’t see any harm. Also, a girl can only dream. Some people are made for love while others are made to keep on searching for love, I’m obviously the latter. I just need that baby treatment from a very attractive guy, you know what I mean?” Monique sighs, slipping her braid behind her ear.

“Yeah.” Sadly, the ones who truly deserve to be loved, the ones who really give love a shot, always get the wrong guy and the wrong woman.

Life’s fucked up.