His Games, Her Rules

DOMINIQUE

“Aren’t we gonna address the elephant in the room?” Camilla asks, turning around in her seat with her judgmental look.

“And if I may ask, what elephant is that?”

“Dom, you know what I’m talking about.”

Oh, I know what she’s talking about, I’m just not willing to talk about it with her.

I turn to look at her, eyebrows furrowing as I run my gaze over my sister. Camilla takes after our mother, brown eyes, olive skin, chestnut brown hair, and she’s petite just like our mother.

“You two seemed like you were having a heated argument.”

“Are you gonna drop it or should I be forced to ignore you?”

“God, you’re an asshole,” Camilla says, shaking her head as she crosses her arms against her chest.

“Why exactly are you in New York anyway? Shouldn’t you be back in LA preparing for your wedding?” I ask.

It was a shocker when Camilla visited New York a few months ago with a diamond ring on her finger and a man by her side. We all thought Camilla was never going to get married, at least anytime soon, but then she surprised us. Camilla is an actress, a regular face in Hollywood these past years, but then she took a break to invest her time in something else. That was how she met Anthony, the man she was getting married to.

Anthony isn’t all that wealthy but he’s doing well for himself. Camilla said he’s a Tech engineer who works for a company that I know too well. I’m happy for her. My brother and I aren’t ready to settle down, it’s nice someone from the Gray family is finally settling down.

“Just here for wedding shopping.”

“You could always go wedding shopping in California, Cam.”

“Well, it’s more fun in New York.” She says as she shrugs a shoulder, avoiding my gaze on purpose.

She’s lying, but I’m gonna drop it.

My car pulls to a stop outside my house and Camilla and I step out from the backseat. We shut the door as my driver drives the car toward the garage to park it.

Camilla walks ahead of me, climbing the steps as she pushes open the double doors. Inside, my house help, Helen, greets me. I give her a small nod in return as I head toward the living room.

“I’m gonna call it a night,” Camilla says as she stops by the foot of the spiral staircase.

“Sure. Just don’t wander to my lounge though. You don’t wanna see things that you’re not supposed to see.”Original from NôvelDrama.Org.

“God, you’re a pig,” Camilla says as she starts to climb the stairs.

I chuckle as I turn around and head toward my lounge. I’m in desperate need of a drink, and maybe a cigarette to get through this night in one piece. I pour myself a glass of bourbon as I sit down on the red couch, gazing at the long swimming pool through the translucent wall at the end of the room.

This lounge is like my safe haven, with the right amount of alcohol and the soundproofed walls. I come here when I want to get my head straight, work from home, and on rare occasions – fuck. And tonight is one of those rare occasions.

There’s a soft knock on the slightly open door as I turn my head from the translucent wall to the open door. Helen stands by the door with her hand on the knob and I wave her in. Helen is in her mid-forties. She’s been working for me for at least five years and she’s in charge of taking care of my house. I have a male cook who comes by four times every week to cook. Helen stays with me, but on weekends I send her home to be with her family.

“You ready to leave?”

“Yes, sir. I picked up your dry cleaning earlier today and they’re perfectly stored in your closet, sir.”

“Thank you, Helen. How’s your daughter doing?”

“Gabriella is doing okay, sir. Thanks to you.” Helen says, smiling.

Helen’s daughter has been sick for quite some time now and I was not aware. About two weeks ago, I had to confront her because she wasn’t her usual self. That was when she told me her daughter was ill and the hospital bill was too expensive and she couldn’t afford it. Helen is an immigrant without medical insurance and I offered to pay for her daughter’s medical bills. Her gratitude was so genuine it took me by surprise. She even offered to work for me for free for at least a few months but I didn’t let her. I told her she didn’t owe me anything and I was happy to help.

I slip my hand inside my suit jacket and pull a bundle of notes as I stretch it toward Helen. “You can have that.”

“Mr. Gray, you don’t have to…”

“Helen, please take it.”

Her lips quiver, a big smile on her face as she slowly walks toward me.

“Go on, have it. It’s for you and your family.” I say to Helen. With her knees nearly touching the ground, Helen receives the cash from my hand. “Come on, Helen, you don’t need to do that. You deserve it. Please stand up.”

“Thank you so much, sir.”

“That’s okay. Terrance will drive you home.”

“Thank you so much, sir. I really appreciate your help.”

I give Helen a small smile and wave her off. She nods, her knees nearly touching the ground as she turns around to leave, leaving the door slightly open.

I slowly stand up, placing the empty glass of bourbon on the counter as I take off my suit jacket and toss it on the couch behind me. I pour myself another glass of bourbon and walk toward the translucent wall to stare at the night.

My mind drifted to earlier today when I saw her with that Doctor. I’m not blind, he obviously wants to fuck her, and I don’t know if she’s too blind to notice that or she doesn’t really care.

It’s probably the latter.

I was irritated and angered by the intimate nature of their dinner. It might look like a friendly dinner, but the doctor’s intention is anything but friendly. He wants what I want and that just annoys me the most. I want her, I want everything that she’s willing to give, and I don’t mind going to any length to get it.

When you’re rich, a lot of people hate you or want to be you. And in my world, it’s mostly the former. The opposite sex wants a piece of you because of money or connections, oftentimes, it’s both. As a man with power and wealth and a man who knows what people want, I don’t have to try hard to get what I want, especially women.

It takes a lot of effort to get my attention and that includes men and women. But Robyn Denver didn’t have to try, she only had to hit my car and run away, and just like that she had my attention.

One look at her in that tight red dress that night at that party and she grabbed my attention by the balls and I made it my mission to know who she is. To know what she was and who she belonged to. But Robyn belonged to no one. She played by her own rules and she doesn’t fail to remind you that.

And right now, I think I’m playing by her rules even though I like to tell myself it’s the other way around. She’s got my full attention and I’m not walking away anytime soon, not until I’ve had a taste of her.

As strange as it may sound, I’ve never been this sexually attracted to a woman as much as I’m attracted to Robyn.

Robyn…

Sly, sexy, mysterious, feisty, and a hothead, all of which make her undeniably irresistible.

Her fiery gaze can bring any man to his knees and I don’t think she knows that, because one look at her and all I want to do is ruin her, to break her, and to show her there’s so much I’m willing to give if she just let me have her. Even if it’s for a night.

She makes me want to do things to her. Dirty, filthy things.

I want her so bad I hate myself for it.

I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want Robyn and I fucking hate that. I’d never had to go any length just for sex, but Robyn has made it clear that she’s not an easy catch. She’s a challenge, and one thing I love more is a challenge.

She’s like fire and she’s going to burn me. And as fucked up as it sounds, I want her to burn me.

I barely know the woman but all I think about is her. Her smile, and her pouty lips that I want more than anything to please my cock.

Fuck.

The first day we properly met at that party, she was just another pretty face in the crowd, not until I approached her and I discovered she wasn’t just a pretty face, there was something more. Something that I can’t quite put my fingers on.

Then the night at St. Jose when we had a heated conversation and she pointed out the fact that I wanted to fuck her, I guess that was when I knew I really wanted her, especially when she made it clear that she didn’t give a fuck about me or who I was.

If that didn’t turn me on more.

In my 32 years of living, I can count the number of women who have proven to be stubborn and even turned me down on one hand, that’s how little in number they are. And in the end, they always succumbed.

Everyone has a price, and the easiest way to get what you want is by having the right price that you’re willing to offer. Women like to play hard so they don’t come off as cheap, but with the right amount I can get anyone to do my bidding. And oftentimes, I don’t have to offer anything and these women are already on their knees begging to have my cock in their mouth and inside them.

And when it comes to the matters of sex, every woman wants to feel pleasure especially when orgasm is assured.

“Dom.” A voice calls in a quiet whisper behind me.

I turn around, coming face to face with Sara Hudson, the Hollywood actress who’s ever willing to satisfy my dick. On the big screens and to the world, Sara is a big star, with different men standing in a long queue to have a taste of her. But in my bedroom, she’s a little slut who would do anything to get me off.

“You’re late,” I say in a hoarse voice, striding toward her.

“Sorry. I came as fast as I got your text.”

“Mmm.” I bring my gaze down her body, taking note of her little green dress and how she looks good in it.

The little chat I had with Robyn tonight gave me a hard-on and I desperately needed to get off. I could have taken care of it myself but I needed to feel something, someone, anything that is close to being Robyn. But Sara Hudson is anything but Robyn. She’s my little whore, and whenever or wherever I am, she’s always willing to deliver.

I sidestep her and sit down on the couch as I look up at her. She’s beautiful, with fair skin, long red hair, and the perfect ass, tits, and the perfect hip to match. She’d gone under the knife a couple of times to acquire this look, but I don’t give a shit as long as she’s capable of doing what she’s required of.

With my arms splayed on the couch and my right hand holding my glass of bourbon, I spread my legs for Sara.

“I have had a hectic day…” I begin, bringing the glass of bourbon to my lips as I empty the glass and reach forward to set it on the coffee table. “Why don’t you get to work?”

Sara smirks, a vibrant and seductive smirk as she licks her bottom lip at my erection. She reaches for the zip at the corner of her dress and slowly pulls it down, dragging the dress down her body and to her ankles as she steps out of it.

She’s not wearing a bra but a white lace panties. Her tits are round, her nipples pink. As she slowly takes off her panties with her gaze fixed on me, I only wish Sara was somebody else. Someone with dark olive skin, brown eyes, long wavy brown hair, pouty red lips, and a little waist with the perfect curves to match. Robyn fucking Denver.

I groan, trying to push her to the back of my perverted mind, but failing miserably. Sara goes on her knees, slowly crawling toward me as she kneels in between my thighs. I stare down at her with lidded eyelids as she unbuttons my pants and slowly drags the zip down, freeing my throbbing length from the depths of my boxers.

As she drags her slender fingers down my shaft and tastes my aching head that’s coated with precum with her lips, I throw my head back and shut my eyes, with my thoughts filled with filthy things that I want to do to Robyn and only her.

I guess the minute I locked eyes with her in that tight little red dress, I knew I was fucked.