KING : Children of Wolves Book 1 - MC Romance Series | Dark Romance

Chapter Seventeen - Serafina

m e m o r y

Standing in front of the mirror, I'm drowning in a sea of pink. I tug down my blush wig, tucking my dark baby hairs up into it. We all wear the same thing here. That's the thing about The Black Garter Burlesque Performers. All women wear the same outfits- the same heels- the same wigs.

We change things up every night, but this time we've got baby pink bobs and black bodysuits that look like lace one pieces. We are the largest club in Tampa. Some call us a strip club, but we cater to all varieties.

I work on the third floor, strictly burlesque. One floor below, that is the strip club. As soon as you enter, there's a black onyx runner that divides the lower level in two. Right side is the Gentlemen's Club. The left side is full nude.

Upstairs, where I am, there's actually a balcony where you can overlook both sides, and the nightclub below that. The floor that the dancers use is two-way glass. If you're up in the box, you've got a bird's-eye view of every piece of action happening in the club. When it isn't used for private parties, Papa and his men hang out up there.

"Ten minutes," Cherry barks, stepping into the dressing room with her little clipboard. She presses her head set into her ear and murmurs something. "No. That's not the lineup." She slams her clipboard down on the table and flings off her headset. "If you want anything done right in this fucking place, you have to do it yourself," she mutters. Our club manager storms off, heels clicking and red hair swinging.

Cherry keeps everything in this club in line. She's the only person here as much as Papa.

We each get to perform a seven-minute solo routine. There are eight of us, so we work in a rotation. We only perform to one song each shift, but usually by the time you circle back around, the men are too drunk to care.

I'm the last one to go on. Always. I watch each girl stride out of the dressing room, ready to work their magic. It can get catty being around women all night long, but the group that's here tonight is a good one. Most girls don't stay for long anyway, this place is a revolving door. If you don't like one bitch, she's gone in a few weeks so it doesn't really matter.

Tatiana, or Tati, as she's known on stage, is up first. She's I guess what I would consider my closest friend here. "You look gorgeous," she drawls with her thick Ukranian accent.

"Spasibo, malishka," I say, blowing her a kiss. Her long blonde hair swings down to her ass. She flips her head over, blonde hair disappearing beneath her pink wig and swishes away.

Tati was born in Ukraine. She came here when she married Drogo, one of the club's members. She started dancing almost immediately. A lot of guys like her accent. American men want something exotic, and the eastern Europeans who come to the club want a taste of home. Tati works six days a week- both floors. And she's got the Mercedes Benz to prove it.

I have a similar advantage, only I can turn my accent on and off. I can speak with my American accent easily- it's mostly how I talk. But having Russian parents means I know the language and can perfectly imitate an accent if I think it will suit my customers.

Before Tati comes back, Diamond and Chastity walk out together. They must be doing a combined routine tonight. We cater to every type of fantasy here. Looking around the room, it's like the United Nations of body types. Women with hourglass figures, some with huge asses and no tits, some with all tits and no ass. Turning to survey my own figure in the mirror, I guess I'm supposed to be for the men who prefer little boys.

Running my hands down my non existent curves, I stop once I reach my thighs. I have plump red lips and baby doll-like eyes. Those are the biggest parts of me, I think.

Tati comes in. Her face is always serious, but I can see the excitement in her eyes. "Hot men are here," she says, giving me a wink. "You will get big tip."

"Oh, she's gonna get more than the tip," Bunny swats my ass playfully as she leaves for her routine.

We've all been known to fuck a hot customer or two. Perks of being in this business. We aren't some grimy strip joint. This is The Black Garter, where the city's elite come to party. The guys who come in are often pro athletes or businessmen who want to entertain their clients. Young, rich, sexy... that's my type.

Finally, it's my turn to go on stage and I understand what Tatiana meant. The balcony is an open air box above us. And standing with his arms stretched on the railing is a man who looks like a vicious king. His chestnut brown hair is swept back away from his face that looks like it's been chiseled from stone. Thin lips form some kind of menacing snarl and he watches me on stage like I'm his prey.

Dressed in all black, he looks like a vampire. He might think he's hunting me, but little does he know that he's in my sights. I know men like him. I learned to spot that hungry look a long time ago. Gripping the edge of the little black chair, I spin it around in the middle of the stage, straddling it, letting the back press against my chest.

Closing my eyes, I wait for the music to start. The bass pumps and it's like my heart matches its rhythm. Nina Simone sings Fever and as soon as my eyes lock on his, I know it's over.

It wasn't over in the way I thought it would be though. My plan was to sleep with him. I won't lie about it. Sultry music playing, it was like we were the only two people in the world when he watched me dance. Now though, I know he was feeling something different- possession of another kind.