“Would you be on stage?” I ask quietly.
“No. I will be behind the scenes. My intention is to be purely backstage – managing and owning and shit.”
“And shit,” I laugh.
“Sorry, unprofessional of me. If the situation arises that I have to be on stage, it would most likely be for an exclusive event, purely to drum up business. I want off the stage; I want to run it. I will do some choreographing and I will also encourage the dancers to create their own routines, so I would still be involved in the aspect. However, as mentioned, that will be still behind the scenes,” he explains while I nod.
“And where do you see me in all this?”
“I don’t say this to scare you off, but as the other half of me.”
“The other half? Please elaborate.”
“You have experience in office settings, whereas I do not. I need someone to manage the business side of things.”
“So, would I have decision making powers?”
“You will have all the power you want and need.”
“How flexible would you be with suggestions for improvement, if I see something needed?”
“Extremely. You want it, we can make it happen.”
“You and I are together. What does this mean?”
“I’m not following?” He quirks his head and folds his hands together.
“Do we continue our relationship?”
“Why wouldn’t we?”
“Relationships and work sometimes don’t mix.”
“We will do everything in our power to create a harmonious working and romantic relationship,” he says confidently.
“How will we be able to separate the two?”
“Who’s saying that we have to? We can remain professional and we can be however we normally are. We have the capacity to choose.”
“What about if we don’t work out?” I ask quietly.
“I don’t foresee that being a possibility. I wouldn’t ask any of this of you if I wasn’t sure.”
“Wasn’t sure of what?”
“Us.”
He’s so confident and I love that about him. He goes into things with his arms wide open and I think that is the most amazing characteristic for someone to have. I’m sucked into his confidence in our relationship, in his vision and what the future could hold.
“You haven’t even seen my resume,” I say.
“I don’t have to in order to know that you are who I want.”
“While I’m flattered, I feel that it would be better business for you to at least know what I can and cannot do.”
“Are you willing to learn?”
“Of course.”
“Can you operate a computer? Speak to vendors and dole out orders?”
“Can I order you around?” I counter.
“Yup, it will be mutual ordering around, I’m sure.” He smirks.
“You make this sound like a bonafide proposition. Are there any catches?”
“Some late nights, but in the plan, I have someone who would be willing to be on-site on the nights I won’t be there. I’ll have a partner to lessen the amount of time that I will be there in the evening time.”
“So this is the catch?”
“It will be a testament of how strong we are together,” he says quietly.
“Why not look into a business partner?” I ask. “Someone who would take some of the load off of you and help you with start-up costs?”
“I have a silent partner.”
“How come this is the first I’m hearing of this? That should have been part of your lead in.”
“He doesn’t want to be announced until we have full confirmation of starting.”
“Can you tell me who it is? Will he be a part of business meetings? How will he be silent if he would be doing some of the evenings?”
“Jacks. He doesn’t want it to be known right away that he’s leaving the company.”
“In case word gets back to Exposed Men that he’s looking to leave?”
“Something like that.”
“Okay, so you and Jacks split up the off-stage yet still somewhat on-stage duties?”
“That’s the general idea, yes.”
“How soon are you looking to get up and running?”
“I have approval from the banks as of the other day. I have a location off-Strip and am interviewing for marketing and promotions starting next week, with full intention to open within few months.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I think it’s fucking risky that you want to hire me without knowing my qualifications, but I’m curious and might as well. But I want to discuss money. I hate to, but you know a girl’s gotta eat.”
“My girl will always be fed.” He winks.
“Get your mind out of the gutter.” I shove at his shoulder.
“I can’t help it. So, money. Name your price?”
“Well, in your budget” — I flip to the pages mentioning income for staff — “you have a range. I would like to be within the range, however, not at the bottom of it.”
“So demanding,” he jokes.
Malcolm
I was willing to give her whatever she wanted financially. I had projected salaries built into my proposal and would give her whatever she wanted, especially if that meant she would come work with me. I wasn’t kidding when I said I want her to be the other half of me. I want that and in more than just one way.
I watch her thumb through the folder again. She alternates between biting her lower lip and biting the inside of her cheek as she scans over the text. She studies the images of the location that I had planned out, as well as the schedule of proposed events, which reflects that I have some inkling about what each night will bring. She goes back to the page indicating salaries and finds the silent partner mention and then nods her head.
“I think that a median of the range you propose is justifiable. If I have the power that you say I will have, then it should be adequate enough.”
“Do you want to make sure, do a job study or something?”
“It looks like the amount you’re offering is comparable to the market, at least from my experience. It’s graciously higher than my last position; however, this position you are offering me means more work, and in a far different industry that I’m used to working in.”
“All right, so you accept?” I’m trying to do everything in my power to not show my true level of excitement.
“I accept.”
I let out the breath I was holding and smile.
“Thank fucking god. Can we celebrate now? Quit with the business shit and get naked?”
“I’m not sure my boss would like that?”
“Oh no, baby, your boss will very much like that. In fact, he rather demands it.”
“Suddenly you are all whip.” She smiles.
“Do you understand how stressful it was, proposing this to you? I need to hurry up and take off these tight clothes before I lose my street cred.” I loosen my necktie.
“For someone who is planning to quit the stage to be the owner and shit, you may have to get used to those things.”
“Nah, the atmosphere will be relaxed. I mean, you’ll have to wear tall, bright red, fuck me shoes and skirts daily just so I can make it through the day. But I won’t be wearing these monkey suits every day.” My hand slides up her thigh.
“I like you in these monkey suits,” she whispers leaning towards me. Her hand guides mine to the apex of her thighs as she opens her legs.
“Then I’ll be wearing them daily if that’s what you want.”
“Make them tear away. So much easier to get you out of.”
“On it.” I claim her lips as she leans back on the couch, my body over hers. Our mouths fuse together and my tongue seeks hers.
She’s trying to remove my jacket as we kiss and it’s becoming a struggle. As her hands tug at my shoulders, I start to laugh. My forehead hits her shoulder as I can’t contain my laughter.
“I really must get on that tear-away suit idea immediately,” I say in-between breaths of laughter.
“We should probably clue Jacks in on the new business developments.”
“Oh, he already knew you would say yes,” I say, standing to remove my jacket.
“He did, did he?” She quirks her eyebrow as she leans up on her elbows.
“He had a hunch that you would.”
“I don’t want to talk about Jacks anymore.”
“You brought him up,” I retort.
“I had work mode switched on.”
“Then can you get on those red fuck-me shoes?” I halt in the middle of removing my shirt to see her reaction. She gives me a playful, yet slightly evil, look that says not tonight, bucko. “Fair enough,” I say, continuing the removal of clothing.
***
“So, a few more months of you dancing. When are you going to tell the club?”
“Soon. I want to open up my time a lot more to do some meetings, some hiring, and some add-ins for the location. I also want to do a few more shows since I have been working on something new. Think I can talk you into attending another show?” I ask.
We’re lying in her bed after waking up from a nap. Her body is halfway resting on mine, her leg is thrown across mine, her head is on my chest, her fingers are dragging softly across my abdomen.
“I’ll think about it.”
Chapter 12
Rebeckha
One Month Later
I don’t know how I got roped into going to another show and I can't believe Deena agreed to come with me so soon after she got married. However, you typically wouldn’t need to twist anyone’s arm to come to one of these shows.
So, here we are sitting almost front and center.
How will I feel seeing Malcolm up on that stage, thrusting his hips, or seeing other women touch him, unaware that he’s a taken man?
This is part of acceptance though, and I promised that I will keep an open mind about this part of his life for the time being and that I will trust him. Plus, we’re moving forward quickly on the new club, so this attention from women won’t be a nightly thing much longer.
I do trust him. There’s no reason to not trust him.
So here I am, back at the show.
It hasn't even begun yet and my palms are sweaty. Deena tries her best to keep me distracted but, while her attempts are appreciated, my mind is racing. Malcolm got us these particular seats and I’m hoping it’s because this will be his section.
When the lights go down, the MC boasts on about how much fun will be had and how hot and sexy everyone is, then he walks backwards and out of sight.
Smoke billows out onto the floor and five guys appear on stage. I’m not sure who the five guys are, but I can definitely say that Malcolm isn’t one of them. Spotlights shine on each guy and I see Jacks front and center. The guys are dressed like they’re part of the SWAT team and while that’s hot and all, I’m suddenly eager for Malcolm to come out and dance instead. I don’t want to ogle his friends. I’d rather ogle him and in private.
The SWAT guys come out in the audience and I freeze instantly, I hope that they will bypass me, but as Jacks is about to walk by, he stops in front of me with a smile, and starts to dance seductively but not overtly.
“Mal instructed everyone that we have to leave you alone,” he says with a laugh, leaning in to speak into my ear.
“This isn’t leaving me alone, Jacks,” I remind him, laughing.
“I know, he’s probably watching the audience feed and popping a vein or something. He’s up next, love, don’t worry. Also, congrats on the new job if I haven’t mentioned it yet. I’m stoked to start something new.” Jacks kisses my cheek and then retreats, moving on to another audience member.
When the number is over, I can finally breathe again, but then instantly, I hold that breath as the lights go out in the entire place. R. Kelly’s “Bump n’ Grind” starts pumping through the sound system, then I see a chair in the middle of the stage and a shadow walking to the edge of the stage. Mal stands there with his hands in his pockets wearing a white shirt and black slacks. The same oufit that he wore for the first dance he gave me on that very stage. Then the light catches his face. He’s wearing a fedora, which blocks my view of his eyes, but I know they’re on me. I can feel them and goosebumps rise on my skin. He palms the hat, twirls it off of his head, and then rolls his hips and pushes out his leg. Then he acts as if he’s looking out into the audience for his chosen woman. The audience goes wild as the music remixes and Malcolm raises his hand and points to women in the audience with the hat.
But then he locks eyes with me and I can see his devilish smile as he methodically moves to the steps and lowers himself onto the floor. He maneuvers his body around outstretched hands, while his eyes remain fixed on me. He slows his approach and spins in the center of the walkway, then runs and slides on his knees until he’s in front of me. He pushes my legs apart so he can get in between them, as the women in the crowd go wild. He slowly stands, all the while pressing his body against me. He places the hat on my head and then, with his forefinger and thumb, tips my head to the side to graze his nose against the slope of my neck.
I’m more excited than I’m letting show and pretty damn scared, knowing that he’s going to take me on that stage again. As soon as I finish that thought, he grabs my hand and pulls me from my seat. I look back to Deena and she’s laughing and clapping and shouting encouragement.
“Don’t worry, baby, I got you,” he says from behind me as he pushes me up the stairs by my hips.
He directs me to the chair and then he slips out of sight. I feel his hands on my shoulders and he moves my chair to face him. He braces himself into position and then his body jumps into the air and he performs a perfect backflip and now I’m intrigued for what comes next.
He stands over me and then leans to the side, then turns the chair again so I’m facing the audience. He turns his back to me and does some slow dancing in front of me, enticing the audience, his hands go to his shirt and he tears it open, making buttons fly everywhere.
Workplace hazard.
He gets down on the ground, rolls his hips seductively along the floor, and pounds on the floor with his fist a few times before coming back up onto his knees with ease.
He then stands with his back to me, pops and locks for a few beats, then kicks his feet back on either side of the chair. With his hands on the floor, he’s in a wheelbarrow position and uses his legs to pull the chair closer to him so his crotch is in my face. He begins pumping his hips and I’m unsure what to do with my hands, so I move them to his outer thighs. I feel the muscles in his thighs, so tight and powerful as he uses his lower body to do some pretty fucking sexy moves on me. After a few moments, he pushes up with his hands and then flops back down on the ground where his thighs push the chair back and he’s standing a moment later, rolling his hips again to the beat.
He sits on my lap and takes my hand. He runs it down from his neck while looking out to the screaming audience, across his washboard abs and down to his groin where his hand covers mine and squeezes. I’m unsure of what the look on his face is but the audience is going insane right now.
He then stands and turns to face me, leans down and pushes his face against my chest and moves up.
“This isn’t my normal routine, don’t worry,” he promises as he stands fully removing his shirt.
Once he’s shirtless, he turns and rides his shirt like a broomstick then throws it into the crowd. Then he stops his movements and looks back at me with a grin. He quickly turns back to the crowd, moving so fast in front of me that I’m startled a little bit. He’s on his knees again, spreading my knees to get in between them.
“Put your hands on my shoulders, babe,” he says.
Like I’m hypnotized, I do as he asks. His head goes towards my center and he nuzzles against each thigh, then at their apex, mimicking that he’s dining downtown. I’m thoroughly embarrassed over this
part but then my discomfiture is gone as his hand brushes against my center and then he taps me where I ache for him.
With a lopsided smile, he leans back,, stands up straight and then shakes his ass. The audience is rapt as he reaches to his hips, grabs the fabric of his pants and tears it away. He is wearing only a smile and some briefs that are obviously a size too small because I can see the shape of his cock. I discreetly wipe away the drool that has begun to escape the side of my mouth.
He moves to his knees and begins humping the floor again, then grabs the legs of the chair I’m in, lifts himself up and stands over me. I’m at eye-level with his cock and it’s taking every ounce of my control not to lean forward and grab him.
He takes my hands instead and places them on his ass.
“Just go with it,” he says, before his hips begin rolling again and then he’s thrusting towards my face. As an audience member, this part would always make me uncomfortable. Now, as the lucky girl in the hot seat, said cock-thrusting is kinda sexy, I won’t lie.
Moments later, the crowd is cheering and Malcolm is taking a quick bow. He turns to me, lifts my hand and kisses it. He wraps me in a sweaty hug, lifting my feet off the floor.
“I have one more group number that I’m in. It’s the last one of the night.”
“The show just began,” I say, shocked that he’s barely performing tonight.
“Remember, I’m taking a step back,” he says, as he deposits me back on the floor. With a wink, he disappears off the stage.
“Do you understand how fucking hot that was?” Deena gushes.
“From my point of view, it was pretty damn good.”
“I felt like a voyeur, or like I was watching porn.”
“That’s because you know we’re together.”
“Probably, but damn. That wasn’t like any of the other solos.”
“Really? It all happened so fast.”
“That was a lot more… personal.”
The stage lights begin bouncing, signally a new group of guys to go on stage. Soon the lights turn into flashing reds and blues with the standard police siren – a cop routine. After that, there are several group numbers and then two more solos. All of which are sexy, but I can see how Deena could say that the dance Malcolm gave me was more personal, as no one else’s solo was as seductive.
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