Suppressed Mate

Gentleman’s Place

Saturday nights at Gentleman’s Place is a busy night. Even though it’s only my second weekend working here, it’s obvious Saturdays are the nights to make the most money. Almost every table in the place is taken, with the exception of one VIP booth located next to the runway off the main stage.

“Hey Curtis, is it normal for a VIP table to stay empty for so long?” I ask the bartender.

He’s tall and lean with dark brown eyes and milk chocolate brown skin. His head is as smooth and shiny under the flashing lights of the blue.

Curtis glances at the table and responds, “The group that reserved that table paid a big enough deposit that it can stay empty all night and it still wouldn’t be a financial loss for us. Don’t worry, if they don’t show you’ll get a small cut of the deposit so you don’t loose out on money.”

I shrug as I put the last drink on my try to take to a table of waiting men. There were six of them sitting at the table, cat-calling the current dancer as she did a strip tease while sliding down to squat with her back against the pole in front of them.

“Hey sweet cheeks,”one of the guys says to me as I began putting their drinks in front of them. “You gonna give us a show too?” He asks while indicating towards the current dancer.

He’s got purposely ruffled blond hair, blue eyes, and a button up shirt with the top couple of buttons undone. His shirt is tight around his biceps as he leans closer to me. He looks to be in his mid to late twenties. I peg him as the group ring leader and someone who’s used to getting his way, judging by the sneer on his face.

I smile as sweetly as I can manage and respond, “no sir, I’m not a dancer but Fire, the dancer performing now, she’s one of our best.”

“Yea, we will see if you give us a show or not.” He says before he takes a drink of his beer and turns his attention back to Fire, leaning back in his seat.

I quickly put the rest of the drinks in front of the other men at his table and get away from them. I don’t like the ring leader and get bad vibes from his entire group.

Filling my tray with drinks again from the bar for other patrons, I feel someone approach me from behind. I turn and am face to face with Pablo, the club owner. Even though he’s only about 5’5”, we are the same height since I have high heels on.

“Jerrica,” he says. “The group for the reserved VIP table in your section just showed up. One of them is Kane Black. He’s a high profile client. You give him the absolute best service. One word of complaint from him or his group and you’ll be out of a job faster than it would take for you to unzip your dress. Do you understand me?”

“Aye aye, sir.” I respond, barely stopping myself from rolling my eyes. I know how to do my job and I’m good at it. I’ll give this Kane Black person the same service I give everyone. Plenty of cleavage and a smile.

Narrowing his eyes at me, Pablo says, “see to it.”

Turning to Curtis, he says, “Erica is to take over Jerricas tables with the exception of the two VIP next to each other. I want her to focus as much as possible on the Kane Black table without it looking like she is hovering.”

“I’ll let Erica know,” Curtis responds as he continues opening beers.

I inwardly groan as I realize that besides loosing five tables and the tips with them, the one other table I will continue to serve is the six men I get the bad vibes from. Go freaking figure.

“Erica will split the tips from the other tables with you, Jerrica. Now go, Blacks group is starting to sit down,” Pablo says before turning and going back into his office where I’m certain he will be watching the cameras for any sign that this high profile client isn’t happy.

Sighing, I turn to approach and greet the new table of men and oh my gosh. Did my panties just hit the ground? The six men are all seated at the half circle booth. I can’t take my eyes on the one at the end. He looks to be in his late twenties, slicked back dark hair, a jaw line that could cut glass, short trimmed facial hair, and at least six feet tall. He’s dressed in black dress slacks and a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He’s gorgeous.

Taking a breathe, I walk across the room to the booth. As I get closer, I see they are talking to the group next to them, the other VIP table. It looks like the conversation is growing heated between the ring leader and super sexy.

They see me approaching and all I hear is super sexy say “don’t step out of line, Clay.”

Clay, the ringleader of the other group, responds with a predator like smile and says, “Wouldn’t dream of it, Black,” before turning back to his group.

I mentally take note that super sexy is Kane Black and creepy dude ring leader is Clay. Reaching the new table, I take quick stock of the five other men seated with Black. All in their mid to late twenties and all are good looking. Not as hot as Black but a girl can still appreciate them. Smiling to myself, I wonder if there is a criteria of being attractive to associate yourself with Kane Black.

Trying to make quick eye contact with each of them, I introduce myself and ask what drinks I can get for them, going over the house specials for the night. My eyes land on Black, who is watching me intensely. I am taken off guard by the intensity of his stare and stumble for a moment on my words.

“Um. Uh. We also have several wine selections and I would be happy to bring you a wine list or provide recommendations,” I say.

“You don’t need to go over all of that, miss,” the man next to Black says with a slight southern drawl. “Just bring us a bottle of good scotch or whiskey and some glasses and we will be alright.”

The man has short dark hair, medium brown eyes, and is clean shaven. Despite his southern drawl and easy smile, I immediately peg him as current or prior military.

“I think the best we have is Johnny Walker Blue, is that ok?” I ask.

“It’s good enough,” Black answers, his intense dark eyes still burning into me.

I say, “ok, great. I’ll be back in a few.” Before turning and trying not to run to the bar.

“Hows it going so far?” Curtis asks as he pulls out glasses and an unopened bottle of the Johnny Walker Blue.

“Good enough, I guess,” I respond. “If they just want their own bottle and to pour their own drinks, it makes my job easier. Hopefully they’ll still tip well.”

“Jeriiiiiiii” I hear in a whiny voice and turn to see Erica pouting next to me. “Why do you get to have the two best VIP tables and I get stuck picking up your other tables? It’s not fair!”

Erica is dressed in black biker shorts that could almost be classified as a thong, red lace bralette that barely covers her n*****s, and red stilettos. Her long blonde hair is pulled up into a tight ponytail high on her head and the smokey black makeup around her blue eyes makes them stand out brightly.

I sigh, “Erica, I didn’t have a choice. Pablo make the call. If you have a problem, take it up with him.

With a huff, Erica takes her tray and saunters off.

Taking my own tray with the bottle of whisky and six tumblers, I make my way back over to the VIP booth Black and his group are seated at.

Black remains seated on the end closest to Clay in the adjacent VIP booth. The men at Black’s table are talking low as I approach and begin setting their glasses in front of them.

“We confirmed what we were looking for. We will discuss how to address it later, this is not the place,” Black says as I approach.

“Agreed,” the man on the opposite end of the table from Black says as he glances at me, ‘Let’s just enjoy the evening now and have some drinks.”

He’s got long, sandy blond hair pulled into a low ponytail at the back of his neck, sky blue eyes, and clean shaven.

“I couldn’t agree more, Carter,” the man with the southern drawl next to Black says.

I observe each of the men as I set the glasses down and I realize, they are all huge. Even sitting down, they all must be at least 6’ and taller. Each of their biceps are pressed against the the sleeves of their shirts, some short sleeve while others were long sleeve button up shirts. Thinking about it, I realize the same could be said for my other VIP table, Clay and his group. They are all large and muscular men.

“Anything else I can get you guys for now?” I ask Blacks table.

“No, thank you. We are good with this,” Black responds.

Leaning over I set the last tumbler in front of Black. I watch his nostrils flare as he inhales, like he’s scenting me. His pupils dilate as his eyes meet mine. I’m taken aback by the intensity of his eyes. They are so dark that I can barely tell where his pupils end and his iris begins.

My heart starts racing as a jolt of intense need and attraction shoots through me.