Chapitre 10: Third time's the charm

I sigh as I reluctantly agree to go out for the night. It's not like I have anything better to do in my hotel room than work or think about that damn blonde omega who's been on my mind all week. The urge to drive back to that little town and claim him is almost overwhelming, but instead, I opt for a night out at a high-class bar and club.

I arrive at the club and am greeted by a guy with bushy eyebrows, who seems a bit too eager to be friendly. I avoid his attempts at physical contact, finding him more annoying than anything. He leads me to a VIP lounge on the third level, reserved for VVIPs, where I take a seat and quickly get served drinks by some attractive waitstaff vying for my attention.

I sigh inwardly, regretting my decision to come out tonight. But then, in a stroke of surreal coincidence, I see him. Dancing on a table, looking just as captivating as the first time I saw him. I can't help but scoff a laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Before I can fully process the sight, bushy eyebrows is by my side again, rambling on about some uncle and contract. I interrupt him, my eyes fixed on the dancing figure that has captured my attention.

"Sure, send the documents to my hotel room tomorrow morning," I say firmly, cutting through his chatter. "But I need you to do something for me." My gaze remains fixed on the captivating omega, unable to tear myself away.

Today marks the end of my impulsive week off, and as I observe the alphas around me, I realize they're attractive, but they're not what I'm looking for. I can't quite put my finger on what exactly I am looking for.

Stepping down from the table that served as my impromptu dance floor, I make my way through the crowded club. Contrary to what most people might assume, I'm not wasted. Sure, I'm slightly buzzed, but I have all my senses intact.

The allure of the bathroom calls to me, and I step inside to fix my makeup and hair. I glance at my interesting choice of shoes, already feeling the strain from their height. But as they say, pretty hurts.

Emerging from the bathroom, I'm greeted by a waiter waiting for me. His professional demeanor doesn't hide the fact that he's just another guy trying to get lucky.

"Somebody wants to speak to you, in the VIP section. I can guide you there," he says.

I give him a polite smile and decline, sidestepping him gracefully. It's on brand for some rich alpha to do something like this. Instead, I head straight for the dance floor. The pulsing music envelops me, and I let myself get lost in the rhythm, my high platform heels clicking against the floor as I move.

I watch him dance to the pulsating beat of the music, taking a sip from my drink. It's bitter, but I need the liquid courage for what I'm about to do. I've made up my mind; I'm going to go down to that dance floor and drag him back to my hotel room with me.

His outfit is scandalous, even by this club's standards. Those fishnet pantyhose cling to his legs, the little shorts leaving very little to the imagination. And that black t-shirt, boldly proclaiming "touch me if you dare," is very on brand with the image I have of him.

Leaning back into my chair, I signal a waiter to bring him the most expensive drink they have here. Might as well make his night memorable, right? I put all his expenses on my tab, feeling a rush of anticipation.

I watch as the waiter approaches him, informing him of the drink and motioning to my VIP lounge. I'm shrouded in darkness, hidden from his view, but I can see him clearly. I catch the sultry wink he sends my way, and suddenly, it feels like the temperature in the club has risen several degrees.

As we dance, he leads and I follow, the music and alcohol swirling around us in a heady mix. His hands are on my waist, pulling me close, and I let myself be swept away in the moment. I catch glimpses of admiration and desire in his eyes, and it fuels the fire burning within me.

But then, he disappears from the dance floor. Panic starts to rise in me as I scan the crowded room, not willing to lose him again. Just as I'm about to stand and search for him, he suddenly appears in front of me, mere feet away.

I make eye contact with bushy eyebrows, the club owner, and the rest of the staff and guests begin to evacuate the area.

"Isn't my big buyer a big shot? You literally just evacuated the owner too," he remarks, walking towards me. My eyes are glued to those legs, my brain not thinking logically amidst the buzz of alcohol and adrenaline.

"I wanted some privacy," I manage to say over the music, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Fucking hell, you're sexy," he says as he stands directly in front of me. His voice is low, sending shivers down my spine. The air between us crackles with electricity, and I can feel the heat radiating off his body.

"I hope that's a good thing," I reply, a hint of amusement in my voice. I've always known I'm attractive, but seeing the way he looks at me, has me thankful for genetic lottery I won.

"Had I known this was what was waiting for me, not a disgusting old man, I would have been here sooner," He confesses and plops down next to me. His suppressants is doing its job a little too well, masking his natural aroma. But I can still sense the underlying sweetness that draws me in.

"You smell like a certain someone that left me a generous tip a week ago," He says, moving closer to me. I can feel the tension between us, a magnetic pull that I can't resist.

"I don't know, enlightened me" I reply, leaning further back into the chair. I can see the desire in his eyes, a hunger that mirrors my own.

"Then again, I might be mistaken," He says when he suddenly jumps onto my lap. He wraps his arms around my waist, and I can feel the heat of his body against mine. It's intoxicating, overwhelming.

I make the mistake of looking up into his eyes, and I'm done for. I never stood a chance against him. Sooner or later, I knew I was going to find myself wrapped around his finger. And here I am, mere minutes in his presence, already completely under his spell.

Dear universe, you'd have to pry this omega out of my dead arms before I let him go.