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.
The show continues and when it comes to the last number, I know Malcolm is due back up on stage. The opening theme song from The Avengers comes on, while a replica of the logo is proected onto screens around the room. On stage is a pretty good replica – at least, the stripper version – of Iron Man. There is also a shirtless Thor and a Captain America, as well as a shirtless Malcolm, painted green like the Incredible Hulk.
My eyes go wide and I gasp, before quickly covering my mouth.
My mind goes back to the conversation we had about our not-hot celebrity crushes and I begin to giggle. When Deena looks over at me, she seems confused but quickly turns her attention back to the stage where the “Stripper Avengers” slowly begin to remove their clothes. There are even some makeshift props on the stage that Malcolm – a.k.a The Hulk! – smashes, which is entertaining.
Then, as the other Avengers begin going into the crowd, I see Malcolm is still up on stage. He slowly removes his belt, then bends at the waist, grabs his pants and tears them away, as some in the audience yell, “Smash!” With his eyes on me, he smiles and then makes his way down to the floor wearing only purple briefs.
All the guys climb atop one of the tables placed throughout the room and continue their hip thrusting and dancing. Malcolm is standing on a table close to us, and Jacks is on the table where Deena and I are seated.
This is definitely not what I was expecting tonight.
That sneaky bastard!
Malcolm
I have been choreographing the routine for an Avengers-themed number since the day she mentioned Mark Ruffalo as the Hulk. The guys thought a part of me was insane when I first brought up the concept, but when I explained to them that women secretly like to flock to superhero movies to see their crushes in tights, they understood where I was going with it. We have worked on the routine for weeks and tonight’s unveiling will be perfect. The audience will love it and it just so happened to be the one performance that I really want Beck to watch.
The moment the DJ cues up our music, knowing my girl is in the audience, is exciting and a little nerve-wracking. I watch the expression on her face as she takes in all of us. I see the moment she puts two and two together, remembering the conversation we’d had when we first began dating. I see the laughter in her eyes as Jacks takes his Captain America shield and rolls it against his hips. When she looks over to Micah, he uses Thor’s hammer to bring down the thunder. I see all the laughter turn into seriousness and lust when she zeroes in on me. Her eyes take in my skin painted green, my old pirate shirt tied at the back to make it look like I am bulging through it, and my brown, cut-off slacks. Knowing I have her full attention, I grip at the sides and tear the pants away as women in the audience yelled “Hulk Smash!”
I stand proudly in my purple briefs with my eyes on the prize, and my prize looks at me like I am her last meal with her lower lip in between her teeth.
***
Beck, Jacks and I have plans to hold an early morning breakfast meeting to discuss business stuff, along with our exit plan regarding Exposed Men will be like for the next few months until we open. We need to be upfront and honest with the company that took a chance on two foreigners, especially now that we are leaving together. We need a solid timeline to make sure we don’t fuck ourselves, or the brand we are building. We need to make sure that we amend the business plan to include specifics about what Beck will bring to the table. We’re grateful for it and I want to be sure she gets full credit. For the last month, she has taken her new job seriously and has been researching the entertainment business fiercely. I let her borrow the books I used to do my research. I’d gathered them for myself because it would be near impossible to start up a club like this based on having the stage experience alone.
“So this may sound like a really dumb question, but how do we go about hiring? Do you guys interview? Do you just hold auditions? How does it go?” Beck asks innocently as I kiss behind her ear.
“We’ll hold open auditions. Once we pick a bunch of girls and guys who can dance, we’ll interview them to see who might be the best fit and then select those who we want on our lineup. They’ll be hired by the company and not as independent contractors like in standard strip clubs. Since we’re a coed revue, the plan is to have those faces be exclusive to our club.”
“And does this club have a name?”
“The Essentials.” Jacks smiles.
“The Essentials?” she questions.
“Like, we have all the essentials covered,” I say, as further explanation.
“Okay. Next question I have is what is a club dime?”
I start to choke on the juice I just tried to swallow. While Beck slaps my back, I wipe away the juice that dribbled out of my mouth. Proud of her for doing her research, even if she did catch me off guard.
“In the industry, a club dime is an individual who is one of two things, either your dancer who pulls a lot of private dances or one of your most attractive. They are the people who leave the biggest impressions on customers and bring in repeat business. We hope to have all our dancers embody the club dime type,” Jacks explains with a smile. “You been reading up on stripping, love?”
“Mal loaned me some books, plus I’ve read things on the Internet. And I may have watched some movies since we began dating.” She shrugs.
“Movies?”
“Striptease, Flashdance, Magic Mike, Showgirls, Full Monty – you know, all the standard stripper-themed movies,” she says casually.
“So, we need to discuss the plan for the remainder of our time at Exposed Men,” I say, bringing us back on subject and smiling proudly.
“Right. Right. So I’m silent,” Jacks says, as he leans back in his chair as if to take himself out of the conversation.
“Technically, while you’re silent, you won’t be at the club. But even before it opens, you’ll be at the club, you’ll be putting in hours and doing stuff there, not just giving Mal money,” explains Beck.
“Okay, so I’m not silent once we begin, but leading up, I’m silent. Man, you sure did read up on all this!” Jacks laughs slapping the table.
“I wanted to know what I was getting into.” Her smile reflects pride in her job well done.
I move on to another topic. “So, next week I have contractors building out a new stage and adding tiled floors that don’t belong in the 1970’s.”
“What’s that costing us?” Jacks asks, gripping his pen.
“It won’t break the bank by any means. I have a neighbor hooking it up.”
“We need to set out a timeline of what we’re planning. I want the last month leading up to the opening to be focused on publicity.”
“I can take that on,” Beck chimes in. “I have some contacts with newspapers and the local news.”
“I once hooked up with a blogger; she and I are on good terms still,” Jacks adds.
“As long as it’s not negative or personal, we’ll take whatever we can get.”
“I can look into marketing materials. Deena is a graphic designer. I will set something up with her for next week. I just need to know both your schedules so I don’t schedule something with her when you guys have rehearsal or a show,” Beck says before sipping her coffee.
“My time is the same as Mal’s. Mondays are the best, I like the ideas of a whole work week happening, so we don’t lose any steam with a weekend in the middle of when we start. But wait, refresh my memory here, who is Deena? Do I know her?”
“Deena is Beck’s best friend, the one who invited me to her wedding and got me in the good graces of my girl, here. And remember the ice luge night?” Mal answers.
We all see the light bulb go on over Jacks’s head. “Oh, yeah. So she’s not just a work friend, she’s your mate,” Jacks acknowledges and Beck nods.
Planning flows easily for the three of us as we all make plans for the next few months, including tentative plans for the final month, along with ending our employment at Exposed Men. I am planning to end my employment there sooner rather than later, so I can focus on the new club and spend more time with Beck. I also want to take Beck away for a weekend or maybe longer depending on our schedules and the last of the planning.