Chapter 10
Rebeckha
2 Days Ago
I was going through scenarios about how my life would be with Malcolm and without Malcolm. I wasn’t happy with the latter. I was angry and sad at the same time, and couldn’t keep still with the worry in my head. I paced my small living room, I tried to busy myself with cleaning, and even I tried to rearrange my furniture to get my head cleared, but I knew I needed to think about what Malcolm said and really give our relationship some thought.
I called Deena while she was waiting to board her plane to go on her honeymoon and broke down my dilemma for her to help me make sense of the mess I’d made. She asked me the hard questions, like if I could handle other women groping him on a regular basis and put up with the late nights.
The groping could be an issue, but if I trust him completely then I could just think of it as a standard job function. Sure, I won’t like it, but it’s not like he’ll be dancing forever, right? I need to trust him. He’s made it clear that he’s not interested in other women, and I just need to believe him on that. Can I?
Wait, he mentioned a new direction that he’s trying to figure out.
Then Deena made me think about how it would be without Malcolm in my life and I just got ridiculously pouty. Granted, I’ve only known him a short time and we began on the wrong foot with him damaging Boxy and all. But he has been different from anyone else I’ve ever dated.
He did make up for it, by basically building you a new Boxy.
I’ve never had very much luck in the romance category of my life, and while I have tried to connect with men, he is the first one to come along in a while who I’ve let past my threshold. He did do it being persistent with getting me to hang out with him, but that’s how I realized that I really did like him.
I’ve thought long and hard about the relationship that we’ve started and it didn’t take me very long to conclude that I can accept him for who he is. Whether he is a male stripper or a successful business man, he is still Malcolm. He is sweet, funny, dirty and hard-working. His job doesn’t define him – sure it gives him that amazing body and some pretty good moves in the bedroom – and he’s still all those things with or without having to take off his clothes.
The next morning, while my first instinct was to run to Mal and tell him that I accept him for the person he is, I recall that he mentioned he would be busy, so I hold off. Instead I use the extra time to learn about the life of a male dancer. so I watched several movies, read article after article, and even read parts of some romance novels based around the subject. I watched a few documentaries on the profession and by the end of my day as well. With a combination of experiences and just plain fiction, which hopefully was well researched, I feel like I potentially have a better grasp on the profession. Hopefully.
Day has turned into night, and I feel that I now have a better grasp on what Malcolm does. I also understand that if the life of a male dancer is anything like what I’ve read and watched, though it may seem like it’s all smoke, G-strings and horny women, there’s a divide between stage life and normal everyday life. That’s the point that I need to keep in mind. That even though he takes off his clothes several times a week for audiences of women, that is part of his job. When we’re together, he doesn’t give off a sleazy stripper vibe, he’s a regular guy. Stripping is what he does, not who he is.
Is he on a billboard, all shirtless and looking sexy? Yes, but that is business.
Is he considerate, funny and selfless? Yes, because that’s who he is.
I can’t wait to go see him to tell him that I accept him, for everything he is male dancer and my boyfriend. Sure, my mom may have seen my boyfriend in a G-string, that’s just something that I will have to live with. Maybe it’s even something that she and I will joke about one day. One day in the very distant future.
***
The morning rays are shining through the windows and at first I’m not exactly sure where I am because the bed I’m in is definitely a lot softer than mine. I blink a few times and my eyes settle on the mirrored closet doors beside the bed. I see myself in the reflection and the bed, my own eyes staring back at me. I see the muscular arm draped around my middle and feel the in and out of breaths whispering against my shoulder. I smile and slowly straighten my legs, stretching without moving too much, trying not to wake Malcolm. I want to cherish this moment, this embrace, and this feeling.
“I can feel you thinking,” he mumbles against me.
I look at his form in the mirror/ He hasn’t moved to indicate that he’s awake, but I know I’m not hearing things.
“I’m just relishing the moment,” I reply quietly.
“And what moment would that be?” he asks, lifting his head and kissing my bare shoulder.
“The quietness of a morning with you.”
“I hate to burst your bubble, but it’s afternoon, peach.”
“Well, whatever, still a moment.” I smile.
“We never did get to talking last night,” he says, all the playfulness gone from his tone.
“We were busy,” I say, repositioning myself so I’m on my back. His arms bracket my shoulders as he leans over me. He lowers his face to mine and gently kisses me.
“While I would give anything to fuck you right now, I think it’s smart if we do have this conversation. I am feeling pretty lucky and I’m thinking that wasn’t just a last time shag, but to be smart, we should talk about it,” he says carefully.
“I choose you,” I blurt out.
“You choose me?” he repeats.
“I thought about how my life would be with you in it and then with you not in it.”
“All right.”
“I liked the option with you in it a lot more.”
“My job, the dancing?”
“It’s a job, right? You said it yourself that I’m your girl and that’s all I should take into account. So I did.”
“Right.”
“I might get jealous, but that’s natural for anyone when someone else is pawing their person. But I need to trust you and that’s what I plan to do.”
“So I’m your person?” he asks with a devilish smile.
“As long as I’m yours.” I return his smile.
He lowers his head and peppers soft kisses along my exposed neck. My chest begins to heave as I realize where this is going, while his mouth makes its way down to my nipples and scoots his body down the bed.
“You have been my person since my car first wanted to mate with your car. I’m in love with you, Beck. I love you. There’s no question as to whether you’re my person or not,” he says, looking up at me and then kissing my navel before he goes even lower to between my legs.
His tongue lashes against my hot center, then we moan simultaneously. He spreads me with his fingers and I feel the tip of his tongue against my pussy. He gives me a long lick and then inserts a finger, then another. I shamelessly ride his fingers, pushing my pelvis against his hand. Malcolm growls as my hand connects with his head and I push him even closer to me. I can hear him lapping up my wetness, I can feel his fingers moving within me, curling up and pressing against the spot just inside my pussy. I can feel the tingles alerting me that he’s going to make me come. I ride his fingers and his face with abandon and come so hard that I go both deaf and blind in an instant. The grinding of my pelvis against his face slows, and my arched back slowly meets the bed again as I feel his fingers leave my body.
“That was by far the hottest shit I’ve ever taken part of,” he says, as he wipes his mouth.
I blush and melt into the bed. My toes beginning to uncurl and I feel more relaxed than I do after a hot bath.
“I love you too.”
Malcolm
Beck refused to shower with me. Instead she decided to lay in bed and bask in the aftermath of her orgasm. Understandable since it was so strong that her juices actually dripped down my chin. She pushed and pulled at my head and thrust herself into me. Watching her, feeling her come was hands down the most intense moment of my life, well, that I can remember anyhow. When I walk back into the bedroom, she’s sitting on the bed looking at her phone. She’s scrolling on the screen with a small smile.
“Whatcha looking at, love?” I ask her as I stand before the bed and lose the towel.
She catches sight of my semi-hard cock, looks away, and then blushes.
“Deena has already posted some honeymoon photos. She looks so happy.”
“Cool,” I say, sliding in behind her and putting my arms around her to pull her back to me. I place a kiss just below her ear and smile. “I have something that I want to share with you. I wanted to tell you the other day, but I was giving you your space and didn’t want to interfere with your thought process.”
I know I have her attention as her body twists and faces me. The look in her eyes tells me she is eager to hear what I have to say.
“So, I told you that I was working on something. Well, I had a meeting with a few people and it looks like that something will be coming to fruition sooner rather than later.”
“I’m not following.”
“I will be going from being on stage to being behind it. It won’t be an overnight thing, but it’s something that’s in the process of happening.”
“So what does that mean?” she asks.
“I’m opening my own club. I’ll still be in the entertainment business, but not where you will have to worry anymore.”
“Your own club?” she repeats.
“It’s been in the works for a little over a year. I slowly began to pay attention to the inner workings of clubs, the things that get women to react during performances, scouting around at other clubs, and I think my concept will work.”
“And what’s your concept?”
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you. I like you too much to want to do that,” I tease her, kissing the tip of her nose.
“Babe, you killed me with the excellent head earlier. I think it’s safe to say that I’m not totally alive yet. I mean, I’m even giving up a shower with you if that means anything about the level of dead I am right now.”
I laugh at her as she tries to keep a straight face and rub my hands together.
“All right, so I had my financial advisor backing me up. I’ve zeroed in on a building off the Strip. My plan is that it will have something for everyone. It will be a mixture of men and women dancers, choreographed numbers, and none of that cheesy crap. Yes, characters will be made from the fantasies of the general audience, but it won’t be the typical fireman and military-style routines all the time. I’m going to have three-piece suits, athletes, librarians, mechanics, and everyday people fantasies.”
“Isn’t the whole idea behind a strip club that it’s giving people those fireman, military fantasies?”
“Yes and no. I want guests to feel this shit is attainable, that they can have that type of person in their life. Or if they are a librarian, a mechanic or a businessman, that there is no reason for them to not shed their inhibitions and be nasty.”
“Nasty,” she repeats.
“Sexy. That’s a better word.” I smile knowingly.
“Okay, so what’s your plan?”
“Well, I need to just get the rest figured out.”
“You already have a crazy schedule and there’s only one of you. You have to sleep, you know,” she teases.
“That’s where you come in,” I say, watching the confusion cross her face.
“Come again?” she says.
“I will later. We both will.” I smirk playfully as she hits my arm.
“You having any luck finding a new job?” I hope that I’m not overstepping, but she shakes her head and I smile. “I need help, lots of it – marketing, hiring, organization, accounting, you name it.”
“Um. I’ve never worked in the entertainment business. I don’t know how I would be able to help. Plus, you don’t know my work ethic; that’s kinda irresponsible.”
“Take away the fact that it’s in entertainment, it’s just a business. It’s the same as almost any other job. We put a product out there that people want, and there are people behind the curtain who are making it happen.” It’s true, the people who work at the club now are the standard people that no one would assume are working in the industry.
“But if I say yes, the fact that we’re together would look bad, wouldn’t it?”
“I’m the owner, you’re the owner’s woman. You’ll be my partner in this one hundred percent. We’ll be a powerhouse!”
“So I won’t get in trouble with HR for fucking the boss?”
“Not at all. In fact, I highly encourage you to.” I smile.
“Can I think about this? I mean, this is so outside my wheelhouse, far from property management.”
“That it is. But not too far off. Give it a thought for a few days, I have time.”
“Have you told the club about this?”
“No, not yet. I didn’t want to say it out loud until now. I need to make sure I have my ducks in a square first.”
“Row,” she says.
“What’s that?”
“Row. Your ducks need to be in a row.”
“Oh, love. Square, like a present. So that way once it’s ready, I can fucking unwrap it.”
“You make no sense sometimes.” She shakes her head.
“I make perfect sense,” I say, tackling her to the bed.
“We need to leave this room!” she says, just as her stomach growls loudly. “I need to be fed.”
“What my baby wants, my baby gets.” I stand from the bed.
“Baby wants a breakfast burrito.” She smiles, standing up from the bed with a little boost from me.