One Night Only

The Club

The loud, heavy bass of the club sent tiny vibrations throughout your whole body as you sat in the tiny, dirty women's room of the club. This really wasn't your scene, and now that Kendra had gone home, you didn't really want to stay here, hottest club in the city or not.

Kendra was the more outgoing out of both of you, and you sort of just remained in the background, like a wallflower. She got the guys, and you got grades; not that you minded, as seeing your best friend go through so many messy break-ups had definitely put you off looking for love yourself.

Suddenly, angry loud thudding sounded on the door.
"Bitch, hurry the fuck up, this a bathroom, not a fucking waiting room", some angry chick shouted from the other side of the door. You quickly rinsed off your hands, and flushed to toilet, so it sounded like you'd actually been using it and not hiding out. After being cussed out by the crazy chick waiting to use the ladies room, you finally ventured into the club.

The music was much louder now, making your eardrums thrum in time to the bassline. The dancefloor was packed, with sweaty bodies grinding, which looked like a massive orgy to you. Avoiding the dancers, you made your way to the bar, and called up a rum and coke.

While waiting for your drink , you text Kendra, telling her she had major grafting to do to make up for misplacing her I.D. Just then, the bartender slid over your rum and coke, as well as two vodka shots.
"Um, I'm sorry but I didn't ask for these drinks," you say signalling to the shots. The bartender pointed over to the VIP area, where you could see a group of guys that you definitely recognized, but couldn't place where you'd seen them , or who they were. You smiled politely to the bartender as you rejected the drinks; you didn't need anymore alcohol in your system, especially as you were here alone. After downing your drink,  you decided that since up were already here, you may as well go dance; needless to say, the alcohol running through your veins gave you that little bit of courage you needed to step out of your comfort zone.

With DJ Mustard's newest collaboration with some upcoming rapper blaring through the speakers, you started getting into the whole club scene. You felt hands grip your hips, as you swung them in time to the music. You turned around quickly, and faced a tall, dark-skinned man. He had French braids that were gathered in a short ponytail, and his gold grills reflected the flashing strobe lights as he smirked at you. Going against your naturally shy personality, you put your hands on his shoulders, and looking into his dark eyes, pulled yourself even closer towards him, still moving in time to the bass line.

"Why did you reject the drinks I sent over, ma?"  His deep voice, that definitely had a Harlem accent rasped into your ear as his thumbs rubbed slow circles into your sides.
"I don't take drinks from men I don't know" You looked up through your eyelashes. He was really attractive, and didn't seem like a bad guy, after all not all men would still be this nice to a girl after she'd already initially rejected them.

"I'm Rakim Mayers, the prettiest nigga you gon ever meet in this lifetime." You smiled.
Cocky, much?
"That's cool, bruh," you said to him sassily, intentionally not giving your name.
"What's your name, baby girl?" As the words left Rakim's mouth, his hands went lower and squeezed your ass. Hard. You gasped and gripped his shoulders tightly as he brought up on your tippy toes and even closer to his body. You look up into his eyes again, but this time you see dominance and lust.

"I said, what's your name, baby girl?", his deep voice somehow becoming even deeper as his lips brushed your ear.
"Aaleeyah" you say, biting your lip as you look up at him. He smirked again at you, a low chuckle escaping his lips.
"Aaleeyah." He looked you over lazily, licking his lips as if he were a starving man and you were a banquet. You shivered unconsciously under his gaze. He chuckled again.
"How about we go someplace more quiet, ma?" Your head began to nod, and before your brain could fully comprehend what was happening, 'Rakim' had found the both of you a private room.
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               (Play song in media)

Heart thudding erraticly in your chest, you gripped Rakim's hand as he gently tugged you into the room. The room had deep purple walls and little oak tables that held small lampshades and burning incense sticks, which supplied very low and warm light to the room.

With Frank Ocean's 'Thinking About You' playing softly in the background, Rakim led you over to a large leather armchair that sat next to an even larger long leather chaise lounge.

He sunk into the armchair, then proceeded to light a blunt, all while looking at you. It was obvious he wanted you to sit in his lap, but you didn't want to give in to his wishes that quick. Instead, you had a look at the artwork on the walls. Somehow, you hadn't noticed them when you entered, but now that you were looking for something to keep you occupied (other than Rakim), you actually kinda liked them. They dipicted pictures of writhing bodies, caught up in each other. Limbs entangled with limbs, passion evident in their-

"Aaleeyah, I didn't being you here so you could look at pretty pictures." You inhaled sharply as Rakim nuzzled your neck from behind, his hands pulling you back into his chest.

You kept your eyes on the painting on the wall, not letting yourself get distracted by him. He began to kiss your neck slowly, muttering your name softly under his breath. You moan quietly, causing Rakim to press himself closer to you.

"Fuck".
Rakim growled as he suddenly turned you around, lifted you up and slammed you against the wall, his lips crashing into yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and reciprocated. Gripping your thighs and pushing himself even closer to you, he bit your bottom lip, causing you to let slip another moan, and allowing him to escalate the kiss.  His tongue pushed against yours  as he began grind his crotch into yours, making you feel things in certain places you haven't felt since -

"Yo man, Rocky, we gotta go. Some lame-ass snitch gone and told the paps that we here, and the club owner don't like it. Get yo' bust quick or take the broad home, we ain't got all night." A light skinned guy with a reddish birthmark covering part of his face slammed the door as he left, his words still echoing in your now stone-cold sober mind.

You looked up at Rakim, suspiciously "Paps?"
"I told you ma, I'm the jiggyest nigga you ever seen," Rakim in your ear. "I'm known as A$AP Rocky 'round here and, if you'll let me 'Leeyah, I'll give you the best night you ever done fucking imagined. You down?"

His dark eyes looked into yours. Every single part of your being wanted this, even if you still weren't quite sure who this 'A$AP Rocky' claimed to be. Ignoring your inner voices, you opened your mouth and told him...

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First proper chapter done:D I hope y'all like the way I've portrayed Rocky, and if you do ( and even if yes don't) let me know in the comments !! Also, I've decided to leave what'll happen next up to you guys. Comment whether or not Aaleeyah should go with Rocky to his crib, or  she should reject his offer like a good girl !!

- Sharon-Rose #yabitch