His Games, Her Rules

Thirteen



“Okay, so I’m free to say Dominique Gray truly wants to fuck you?” Monique says on our way home that night.

She’s behind the wheel because I’m too frustrated to drive. I’ve been cursing, hissing, groaning ever since Monique started driving us back home. He’s succeeded. He’s succeeded in planting himself and his arrogance in my head and I just want to get him out.

“Please don’t say the F-word, it’s disgusting.” I groan, turning so that I’m leaning my back against the car window.

“Yeah? You say the F-word all the time, Madam Mary.”

I roll my eyes but smile.NôvelDrama.Org owns all content.

“He’s fucking disgusting,” I mutter under my breath, staring out the window at the nightlife.

“How so?”

“How could he want sex from me in exchange for his car that I smashed?” That must sound fucked up.

“So you’ve finally confessed you smashed his car?” Monique grins as she asks.

I shake my head, smiling. “You’re annoying.”

“So what makes you think he wants sex in exchange for his car? He’s not that loose. He’s a man with principles. I don’t think he’s that kind of man.”

“So what type of man do you think he is?” I ask Monique, with my full attention on her.

Monique sighs. “I don’t know what you want me to say though. I’ve never heard of it. That a man would want sex in exchange for a hit-and-run. Especially a man like Dominique Gray. This is something different. He’s a billionaire, a popular one at that. Do you know what people would think when all of this gets out?”

“I don’t care who he thinks he is, but he can go to hell for all I care.”

“I feel like he wants you to feel indebted to him.”

“For a scratched car? That’s just stupid.”

“Or maybe it’s something else. I don’t know the man so I don’t understand the way he thinks, but I can tell you that this isn’t for sex. He could simply get sex from anyone and from anywhere. A man like Dominique Gray doesn’t have to beg for sex or hold someone ransom for sex. Women would do anything to know what it feels like underneath or on top of him. So I can assure you, this isn’t about sex.”

“I know. I literally called him disgusting and pointed out that he wanted sex from me.”

“What?” Monique chuckles.

“I know. That was just stupid. But what do you expect from me? Ever since that party, he’s made it his mission to taunt me. Why me? Why can’t he just leave me alone? The annoying part is that he doesn’t want money.”

“He has money, you should already know that by now.”

“I know.”

“That’s why he wants you to pay for repairs without using cash. Because he has cash and your cash would mean nothing to him.”

“And you think I don’t know that?” I scowl at Monique as she shrugs.

“Maybe he likes you.” Monique blurts out, avoiding my gaze completely. “You know, maybe he finds you attractive. And all of this is part of his own scheme of wanting and getting you. You’re pretty hot yourself so that shouldn’t come as a shocker.”

I scoff, “I don’t care.”

“Yeah?” Monique chuckles. “Of course, you care. From what I saw a few minutes ago outside St. Jose, you obviously care.”

“Can we drop it?”

“Alright. Whatever you say, hon.”

I sigh, biting the tip of my red-painted nails.

“Fuck.” I groan under my breath.

“What?” Monique asks, without sparing me a glance.

“Is he like my boss now? Dominique Gray.”

“What, no. He owns PharmaCare and not St. Jose.”

“I still feel like he’s my boss, you know. He owns shares, remember?”

“You’ve already said it, he owns shares, not ownership of the hospital. That simply means Dominique Gray isn’t your boss, he just owns a percentage of shares in the hospital. He’s funding St. Jose and in turn, he gets paid a percentage for the money he’s invested.”

“How many percent do you think he owns? 40%?”

“Well, that’s a lot.”

“Well, he has money.”

“Yeah,” Monique says as she exhales. “Whatever percent he owns doesn’t mean shit to you. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah.”

“On second thought. Were you the one who offered to pay for the repairs?” Monique asks. She won’t drop it, of course. What was I thinking asking her to drop it?

“Yeah.”

“Why, when he didn’t ask you to? You brought this upon yourself.”

“What? I was just trying to be nice because I wanted him out of my hair.”

“Nice? Robyn, you hit the man’s car twice and ran away. That’s no definition of nice. You should have just apologized and heard what he had to say instead of just offering to pay.”

I groan for the millionth time. “Seriously, Monique, how do I get past this? How do I not see this man ever in my life?”

“Why so dramatic? Isn’t he a pleasant sight? The man is hotter in real life. Plus, I’d do anything to stare at him all day. He’s like a freaking sex symbol. With the swag, the abs, the face, goddamn, everything about him is hot as fuck.”

“Ew,” I scrunch my face at Monique. “That’s just disgusting.”

“Well, he’s hot.”

“I think everyone knows that. And he knows that.”

“Then why are you so hot and bothered like he’s shit? It’s obvious everything that’s happening between you two is just a mere coincidence. Just like that party and St. Jose. And maybe, just maybe, the universe wants you to finally get involved sexually with someone.”

“And the universe happened to choose Dominique Gray, is that so?”

“It’s a possibility, yeah.”

I throw my head over the car seat. “Oh, god, Monique, you’re not helping.”

“What? I’m just saying. That man is drop-dead gorgeous, which you’re aware of. I just don’t understand why you’re angered by him?”

“Because he’s disgusting. He’s arrogant, which I hate most about him, and his confidence, I hate that too. And god, the way he’s always so calm when he’s the devil, god, that despises me. And lastly, he can’t just throw it at my face that I’m indebted to him, that’s just bullshit. And the annoying part is that I know nothing about him. I’ve done my research online and nothing useful came back.”

“You googled him?” Monique asks, chuckling.

“Yeah. What?”

“Oh, my god. You’ve never googled anyone.”

“Yeah. I had to know who this man was.”

“Yeah?” Monique turns to smirk at me, with her eyebrows raised.

“God, I really hate it when you do that,” I say. She chuckles.

“From all the reasons that you listed, you know… on why you’re so angered by him, it sounds like you may be attracted to him.”

“Are you kidding me? I barely know this man.”

“I know. But that doesn’t matter and you know it.”

“If you know me very well, you would know men like Dominique are a total turn-off.”

“Hmm.”

I’ve seen men like Dominique Gray in Italy and trust me nothing good comes out of knowing them or getting involved with them. Men like Dominique are the kind of men I vowed to stay away from, no matter what. The wealth, the class, the stance, and the power remind me of home; a home that’s better off forgotten.

Deep down you know that’s not the only reason you despise him. It’s because he sets your body on fire without even touching you and you hate that about him.

Fuck it, I hate it when my subconscious is right.

Everything about Dominique Gray is a sin. I may not know the man, but I know him quite enough to know I should stay away, no matter how alluring he seems, how seductive his smirks can be, or how manipulative he is, and how much he taunts me and at the same time makes me question myself when he looks at me.

This is normal, I try to tell myself. I’m sexually repressed, I haven’t had sex with a man for a long time, and I’m talking about a year and a half, almost two years, so it’s okay to feel the way I’m feeling right now by just standing so close to Dominique Gray, a very attractive male.

It’s normal.

When I broke things off with Damien, I didn’t bother to date anyone as I may have mentioned quite often. I was a workaholic and I used that as an excuse to not get involved with men. I did hook up with a few guys and that was what it was. A one-time thing.

And as I said before, there are other ways to get off without letting a man stick his dick inside you. And that has been going pretty well for me until Dominique fucking Gray walked into my life.

“Okay, so I ran into Damien yesterday. I forgot to tell you, but boy, has he gotten hotter?”

“Damien?”

“Yeah. Damien, your ex-boyfriend. The one you broke things off with because you were not feeling the excitement that comes with most new relationships.”

“Wow. You’re a bitch.” I say, chuckling. Monique laughs. “You did see him?”

“Yeah, I did. He looked different, hotter actually. I didn’t know it was him until he called my name.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. He asked about you though.”

“Did he?”

“Yup. He wanted me to give him your number.”

“Wait, when were you gonna tell me about all this?”

“I was a little occupied. Please don’t get mad. I was gonna tell you, I planned on telling you actually, but then I forgot. But I’m telling you now.”

“Right.”

“I’m thinking he wants to try again with you. Maybe things may work out differently.”

“Is that what he told you?”

“No. I saw the look in his eyes. Damien still likes you.”

“Right,” I mutter, looking out the window. The last thing I need right now is drama from a past fling. Damien and I may have ended things on good terms, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to run back to him because he’s a better version of himself now.

There was no spark or any sort of connection between Damien and me. It took me a while to realize I was never sexually attracted to Damien, it was more like I cared for him like I would care for a friend. The only thing that was great in our relationship was the fact that he was good in bed. He did give me a few orgasms on multiple occasions and I appreciated it.

“If that’s your own way of bringing up my relationship life, you’ve failed. Miserably, might I add.”

“I’m not…” Monique sighs. “We all understand that you don’t want to give anyone a shot, and that’s okay. I’m just talking about you and Damien. I literally thought he was the one.”

“Well, he wasn’t the one.”

“You liked the sex.” Monique points out. I chuckle into the back of my palm, shaking my head at her.

When my laugh dies down, I breathe out through my mouth. “Well, he was pretty good at it. But who cares? I don’t want to talk about Damien or any man. I just want to go to bed and look forward to going to work on Monday.” And also get a particular ocean-eyed man out of my brain and how hot he makes me feel by just standing so close to me.

I groan and lean into the car seat.

“Cheers to that.”


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