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"You sumbitchy, motherfucking, asshole. Who the hell do you think you are?" Danica Monroe yelled, and although the beats in the club pulsed around her like a living thing, her voice still carried on, heard by the bartender and the man she'd noticed staring at her.
Although she wasn't surprised. Men always looked at her, especially now in the little black satin dress, that clutched all her curves tightly. She didn't hate the attention or the stares. No. In fact, she revelled in it, taking in every last one of them, then picking the special man she always left with.
"Vodka soda," said a voice beside her - deep, smooth, deliberate.
She turned. The man who'd been staring at her. He was tall, tailored. Focused and too crisp. Commanding. He looked like he scheduled his orgasms in between meetings.
"Coming right up" The frail bartender said
She eyed him hard, "What the fuck do you mean by "coming right up"? She mimicked him "I asked for a dry martini, where the fuck is my dry martini?
The bartender was exhausted. In all honesty, he was frail, pale and pasty. He looked about 20. It wasn't nice that she yelled at him like that, but she didn't care. She came here to have fun and fun is what she would have
The bartender sighed, "Miss, our club has a policy of not drinking past a limit, and you've already exceeded that limit. I could lose my job."
"I don't fucking care. I came to the club to have fun and get drunk not follow rules"
"I'm sorry, no more drinks, but feel free to dance though"
"Hey-"
"I'll take a dry martini" the man who'd been watching the exchange silently said, the same vodka soda man. Commanding. That aura radiated off of him.
The bartender said nothing, then turned around to go fix the drinks.
They stayed there in silence, but Danica occasionally glanced at the man. The bartender brought back the drinks and placed them in front of him.
"Here you go" the man pushed the dry martini to Danica
"I don't need your charity" she pushed it back to him
"It's not charity. It's for you to shut up and stop making a scene." He pushed it back to her
"Listen ass-"
"I think what you mean to say is thank you. Now take it, and pay me back"
She reluctantly took it. He was facing forward sipping his vodka. She side-eyed him and his crisp suit
"You're overdressed," she said, raising an eyebrow.
"And you're underdressed"
"I'm dressed quite appropriately. You're dressed like you're begging not to get laid tonight"
He smiled. "You're underestimating me."
Danica smirked. "I don't do small talk."
"Good," he replied. "Neither do I."
They talked anyway. About nothing. About everything. His name was Ben. Hers, Danica, which she offered only after a pause. There was something about him - the way he listened, the way he didn't try too hard. It was unnerving. The air around him, that commanding aura.
Later, when they went to dance everything felt natural, the way he held her waist as she grinded on him. The way she pulled off his tie and mussed his hair. The kiss. That earth-shattering, soul-lifting kiss. It was explosive, hot. It was messy. The kiss felt as natural as Ben taking her to his home, as natural as peeling off every inch of clothes on her body, kissing her whole body and taking her, gently, roughly and sweetly almost like a lover. Breaking all the rules that she put in place. The rules that kept her safe.
Afterwards, Danica lay awake, watching the ceiling. Ben's arm rested across her waist, his breathing steady. She hated how her body still hummed. She hated how her mind kept replaying the way he looked at her, touching her - like she was more than just a moment.
She slipped out of bed, dressed quietly, and walked towards the door
"Leaving already?" came his voice, low and half-asleep. She paused
"I don't stay," she said, not turning around.
"Maybe you should," he replied.
She didn't answer. Just walked out, heels clicking against marble, heart heavier than she expected.
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Hi everyone!
I'm so excited to share this book. It's something I've been working on, and I'm truly grateful for anyone who takes the time to read it. Please be kind and respectful with your feedback. This story and its characters are part of a journey, and their arcs are meant to reflect growth and complexity. I'm learning as I go, and I appreciate your support! 💛
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"Earned It" - The Weeknd
ANDA SEDANG MEMBACA
ONLY Her Name
Cinta28-year-old Danica Monroe lives unapologetically. Her days blur into nights of neon lights, reckless freedom, and fleeting pleasures. She's not chasing love - she's chasing experience. With a sharp tongue and a guarded heart, Danica has mastered the...
