Tied to the Mafia man 4: Matteo

Genie walked into the club checking her wristwatch. Eleven o'clock on the dot. 

Goddamn traffic, she should have been here earlier, her solo starts in fifteen minutes.

She hurried to the private dressing room where the other girls were, walked up to a locker and quickly removed her coat. 

She would have to make do with less make-up today because the time it took to do a full makeover had been lost on the road, while she was stuck in traffic.

Quickly shrugging off her sweatpants and tee shirt, there was no need to dress fancy since she wasn't going to wear it up on stage, she changed into a midnight shimmering blue mini gown that flared a little at the waist and stopped just below her butt.

Then she wore her fishnet stockings and slipped on heels.

She stood in front of the full mirror and looked at her outfit and smiled.

She wasn't going thong and bras like the other girls but she didn't share the stage with them either.

She had her own show and because she was very good at what she did, chose her own outfits too.

"You're late, Genie", a buxom woman with extremely painted face and fake blond hair, wearing a bustier top and ridiculous high heels came tottering towards her.

"I know, Clarissa. The traffic was a bitch today", Genie replied her.

"Well, you're on in five. Go work your magic"

"Sure thing. Is Max around? I need to talk to him about a couple of things once I'm done". 

Max was the co owner of the club.

"You know where to find him, sugar. He'll be down Graciela's throat. You know how he is with the new girls", Clarissa replied.

"Yeah. Okay"

Genie walked to the backstage and waited till the girls who were currently dancing left.

Then she took the stage, aware that almost every eyes were on her.

It was usually like that. She knew she had her stuff nailed to the teeth and that she was really good.

So when she came out on stage, she expected that everyone was watching her.

She walked up to the pole, and began doing a slow leg curve routine.

Her right leg around the pole like an arc, and her left leg in semi split.

Then she straightened, curved both legs around the pole and pushed her body upwards, slowly moving her waist to the beat of the slow music that was playing in the background.

The men seemed to love it , as usual, craning their necks forward, the look in their eyes as though they already had their hands on her ass.

Then she upturned and did a split, this tine only her hands holding the pole.

Shimmying, she slid to the floor, her legs still wide apart.

Some of the men in front were reaching out to her and she playfully batted their hands away.

It was expected anyways. She was a dancer and they were drunk customers.

It would only pose a problem if they became too touchy or pushy.

She did a little bit more of the leg curve pole routine, carefully to add a little whining, seductive winks and smiles.

She even blew a kiss at one of the men who tried to get his drunk self up on stage to touch her.

The kiss seemed to calm him down because he sat back, a content expression on his face.

She slid to the floor and bent on all four, arching her back to keep her ass in the air and did a little wiggle, then added more intensity and finally slid down amidst the whistles she could clearly hear from the men.

She stood up, hugging the pole and moving her body around it slowly and seductively like it was a lover while looking at the men that sat around the stage in their various states of inebriation when she suddenly felt a gaze on her.

It was...intense. The gaze, even before she searched the crowd to find out who it was, felt extremely intense and probing.

It was surprising. She was used to the men staring at her, leering with lust in their eyes, outstretched hands or promising words of how good they were in bed but this was different.

Determined to find out who affected her so much, she adjusted her eyes to the dimness and looked through the numerous faces till her eyes landed on a man sitting at the corner, just at the edge of the stage she was dancing on, staring straight at her.

In the dim light she couldn't really see his face, but she was sure he was wearing a suit.

Which was odd because the club wasn't the high brow elite kind and this guy was wearing a suit, one of his legs carefully crossed over the other, his arms folded and damn, she could feel his gaze on her.

She continued dancing, her eyes watching him for a few moments before she took to stare at something else.

But she could not shake off the way she felt under his gaze, because he was still watching her.

She felt, open, his gaze making her feel like she wasn't putting on even a stitch.

Like he could see past what everybody was seeing and she did not like it one fucking bit.

After she was done, ignoring the patronising cat calls she walked back to the dressing room to change.

Unlike some of the other girls who took time to entertain or flirt with the men, Genie preferred to leave for home immediately.

She was there to dance and not to patronise.

She removed her costume, wiped her make up off and slipped into her comfortable clothes.

Nothing she loved more than clothes that made her feel secure and warm.

She carried her bag, where she kept her essentials and was about to leave the room when she ran into Clarissa.

"There is someone looking for you outside. Says he needs to talk to you", Clarissa informed her.

Probably one of the newcomers that didn't know about her strict rule. She did not get involved with men from the club, not ever.

"Tell him I'm not interested. Maybe one of the other girls will be, he should ask them"

"I told him, your strict rule and all. He insisted he had to see you and Max asked me to tell you to come out and see him. Seems like he's an important friend of his"

Genie sighed.

She would have said no and gone home, but she wasn't ready to have words with Max. Besides, Max had never asked her to see any of the customers before so this guy had to be pretty important.

"Alright, tell the guy I'll be out in a minute", Genie said and Clarissa nodded, tottering away on her heels.

Genie walked out of the dressing room, wondering who exactly would be so important that Max would tell her to wait when she felt the same gaze earlier, on her.

She looked and saw Max standing with a guy at the bar. The guy's eyes were trained on her and Genie could feel it again, the same intense, stripping feeling.

She took a minute to assess him. He was wearing a black tailored suit with  polished, neat, expensive looking shoes.

His hair was jet black, at least from the distance she was, and as he walked closer, she saw that he had a full mouth. The sensual kind that made you wonder how it would feel when you kissed it. 

But she was more concerned about his eyes, the eyes that did not waver in their gaze, that undressed her unashamedly.

She finally caught up to them.

"Max"

"Genie. How's my favourite stage magician", Max greeted her.

Genie rolled her eyes.

Although she had no bad blood with him, Max had never greeted her this fondly.

She sensed he was trying to pacify her for breaking her one and only rule.

"Good. You wanted to see me", she replied.

It was good to keep answers like that short and curt. That way she could indirectly tell him that he was nowhere out of the loop yet.

Max turned to the guy beside him. The guy whose eyes had not left Genie the whole time. The guy whose eyes, Genie could now tell, were pitch black except for his iris.

"I want you to meet a friend of mine. He is in country for a while and decided to drop in"

"And?", Genie asked, one eyebrow raised.

" Well, he said he wanted to see our star dancer and I figured, why not? He'll be out of the country in a few days time"

Genie turned to look at the man and met his gaze, stare for stare.

" And?"

" Well, I'll leave you two to it, I have to go take care of a few things", Max said and hurried away.

Genie stood in front of the man, whose name Max had not bothered telling her and waited for him to say something.

After a few moments had passed and it was clear he wasn't going to say the first word, she spoke up.