2. Cleo
Ithank my Uber driver and hope Nitro will have my car fixed soon. I walk inside the club, ignoring the leering men. Shawn is here again. Lately, he spends more time here than he does at our place. I didn’t sign up to be a roommate. Hell, I don’t know what I signed up for. When I met Shawn two months ago, he said all the right things. He did all the right things. I made decisions with my pussy instead of my head. Thinking that sort of way is supposed to be a guy thing.
Three blissful weeks of nonstop fucking then the honeymoon stage was over. Rent was due and that dick I thought was so magical, turned its attention elsewhere. To the Fuzzy Peach. He claims it’s not the women. Claims he’s handling business, making moves. I’m calling bullshit. Nothing keeps a man away from a pussy as good as mine except for another pussy.
The woman on the stage dances seductively, cupping her tits and rubbing her nipples. The asshole could get more than this at home, but no. He leaves me with my vibrator and comes here for a look-but-don’t-touch show.
I spot Shawn with a few of his buddies, waving the damn rent money in front of him. I make my way over to a bouncer, slipping him a twenty so he doesn’t cart my ass off stage.
All my life I’ve been different from other girls. I’ve been called cold, heartless. I don’t swoon over men. Don’t get my heart caught up with feelings. Don’t give a flying fuck what people think of me. Seeing your mother get shot in the face right in front of you will change how you see everything.
The dancer exits the stage and the bouncer gives me a nod of approval. He’s grinning, ready to enjoy the show and I’m going to give him, Shawn, and everyone else in here a damn good one.
Shawn hasn’t broken my heart. I miss getting dick on a regular basis, not him. But I won’t be made a fool of. And I’m about to show him exactly what he’s lost.