Sweet Seduction

Chapter Four: Game On

                                                        Chapter Four: Game 

“You look sexy as fuck, lil ma,” Quinn said with his arm around my shoulder as he led me into the club.

I smiled up at him. “You don’t look bad yourself,” I said as the crowded room parted for us.

As we walked past many of the females in the room started giving me daggers which I took to mean he came here often. I looked at his grey eyes and decided to put some work into action. A nigga like him would never be interested in a girl who actually showed interest in him. I’d have to show him that he was just like any other nigga and that I could have whoever I wanted. It wouldn’t be too hard to hit his ego.

Ego was after all the key to getting to a man’s pride and getting past their façade. They didn’t like to be put to the side for other men. They didn’t like to be ignored, especially players. They had this idea that they were one of god’s greater creations and that women should just fall all over them just because they looked good and could spit game. I wouldn’t make it that simple for him. I was going to engage him in a lethal game of cat and mouse.

“A man could get used to this,” he said, “a dime piece that every man wants on my arm, her sole attention and the envy of every man in the room.”

At that comment I started scoping the room and taking note of the hottest guys in the room. I would use them to my advantage and it’d be on. I’d draw him into me and have him wishing that I was the girl in his life. He’d be wishing I was the main chick.

“Dime piece?” I asked rolling my eyes.

He grinned. “Hell yeah, you’re the hottest female in this room. Don’t you see it?” he asked leaning down close to my ear. “All eyes are on you. All these niggas want you and all these hos wanna be you.”

I laughed. “Cocky are we?” I asked.

He grinned with his dimples. “I wouldn’t call it that,” he said biting his bottom lip.

I leaned away, looking off in the distance as I rolled my eyes. “Alright,” I said as we walked up the stairs of the V.I.P section and went over to a table filled with niggas.

As we approached all eyes fell on me and I inwardly rolled my eyes.

“Whose shorty did you pick up, now?” one of them asked.

I laughed and looked at the guy. “He didn’t take anybody’s shorty, boy. I’m my own shorty and for the record I picked him up,” I said rolling my eyes.

They burst into laughter.

“You may have met your match, Quinn,” the same guy replied.

“Nah, nigga—“

I cut him off. “Of course I’m not his match,” I said. “I’m no niggas match. I like to think I’m in a class of my own.”

He looked down at me with a grin. “You’ve got spunk, ma. I’ll give you that but I’m willingly to bet money that you’re feeling the hell outta me right now. So you can quit with the tough talk.”

I arched an eyebrow. “How much money are you willing to put on it?” I asked.

He grinned. “A hundred,” he said reaching in his wallet and putting it on the table.

“Oh you balling, huh?” I asked as he closed his wallet full of hundreds and fifties.

I reached into the pocket of my black skinny jeans and pulled out my little miniature wallet. Reaching in, I tossed a hundred on the table.