Chapter 3
Chapter three
Caitlyn
As the elevator ascends to the twenty-ninth floor, I bite my lip and try to calm the butterflies erupting in my stomach.
I glance briefly at the security camera hidden in the ceiling, wondering if security is watching.
As far as he knows, I'm heading up to the high-roller suites to help out a guest. There are strict rules about casino staff fraternizing with guests, but the policy is a little gray when it comes to spa employees.
As a member of management, I am skating a thin line.
I should turn around and head home. Call off this indecent proposal and protect my job, but I couldn't stop this runaway train if I tried.
I eye my reflection in the mirrored doors and tuck my hair behind my ear.
My makeup is on point thanks to Monica freshening me up, but I've been in the same outfit all day.
I briefly considered buying something at one of the hotel shops, but I don't want to wear Golden Palm merchandise on a date, or whatever this is, and anything else is beyond my paycheck.
So I head up to Alistair's high-roller suite in my fitted skirt and blouse, looking like a hotel employee.
My heart is in my throat as I walk down the hallway, my heels sinking into the plush carpet. Alistair answers the door immediately, and I wonder if he was watching for me out the peephole.
"Hi," I say, the sight of him making me as giddy as a teenager.
"Hello." Alistair's tone is as formal as always, but his gaze makes a slow perusal of my body, and there is no mistaking his intention tonight. He steps back and gestures for me to enter.
I pause in the living room space, gazing around the two-story high-roller suite in awe.
I've been in these before, of course, helping clients get ready for a night out.
Alistair never comes down to the spa for his haircuts, so I've been in this exact suite a number of times.
Always in a professional capacity; except for the night of the bet, of course.
Alistair strides past me, throwing the double-doors open to the guest suite and stepping back to look at me.
"I've prepared a bath for you." He motions for me to join him and then leads me to the bathroom.
As I near the doors, I gasp. The entire room is filled with flowers. Daisies, roses, lilies, and a variety of flowers I can't even name. Soft music plays from the speakers, and candles create a soft glow.
I turn around to look at him in disbelief. I'm speechless.
"After you're done, pick something comfortable." He gestures to the other side of the bed where a rack of clothes waits in the corner. The dresser drawers are partially open, revealing even more options.
I blink, a smile growing on my face. "Thank you."
He gives me one more long look and then turns and leaves me alone.
After a luxurious bath with top of the line skincare products, I pad over to the rack and run my hand over the soft fabrics.
A red silk dress, a green cotton flannel, a blue blouse.
There are so many options to choose from, and they are all in my size.
It's like a fantasy come true, and yet, I have no clue what to wear.
I turn and stride to the double-doors of the guest suite and throw them open.
“Alistair?" I call out to him.
He looks up from the couch, a pile of papers surrounding him. His dark eyes hold an intensity that heats my skin from the inside out. It's as if I'm completely naked, and not wearing a plush terrycloth robe that covers almost my entire body.
"You're going with the robe?" he asks without a trace of surprise or judgment.
"Um, no." I grin as I realize he doesn't care what I wear. He really meant it when he said to pick something that made me comfortable. I bite my lip. But, he won the bet, so shouldn't he get to pick something he wants to see me in too?
"Could you come here a minute," I ask, and then hesitate. "If you're not too busy, that is."
Alistair stands immediately, striding over to the bedroom doors. My heartbeat quickens when he stops next to me. He's so tall. A fact that is even more pronounced when I'm barefoot.
"What's wrong? Do I need to get different sizes?
I had Ms. Holmes visit you at the spa today, but I suppose that was not the most accurate way to gauge your measurements.
" Alistair looks visibly irritated with himself, and my heart squeezes.
This sweet man has gone out of his way to make tonight special for me, and he's worried it's not good enough.
I take his hand, and the jolt of electricity that sizzles between us causes me to gasp. He stares down at our hands and then looks into my eyes. I have to blink twice before continuing.
"I'll pick the clothes, but…" I pause, pulling him toward the selection of lingerie. "You pick what you want me to wear underneath."
Alistair's eyes swivel to the pile of silk and lace, staring intently.
He reaches out rubbing the fabric of each, and I wait patiently while he decides.
His scent washes over me—a musk and apple scent that is imprinted in my brain from all of his haircuts.
I want to bottle it up to smell like a crazy stalker later.
I briefly wonder if it might be possible to steal one of his T-shirts, but decide against it when I think of him catching me with said shirt and demanding I hand it over.
He most definitely knows how many shirts he brings with him.
"These." I focus on the moment again and realize he's holding a black cotton thong. Simple and comfortable. I smile. They are the pair I would have chosen for myself.
I reach for them, but he doesn't let them go. Alistair stares into my eyes and the sexual tension is so charged between us, I almost can't breathe. His gaze drops to my lips, and I prepare for him to kiss me. And then he releases the underwear and walks out of the room.
"I'll be out in a moment," I call out weakly, but the doors are already closed.
After a moment of consideration, I select a black knit dress that hugs my curves. He seems to like what I've got, so I decide to flaunt it. He didn't pick out a bra, so I go without and slip on the black cotton thong that he chose for me.
When I open the doors to the master bedroom, Alistair is standing near the dining table where a candlelit dinner is all laid out.
"Wow, this is incredible." I breathe.
"You like it?" he asks, watching me carefully.
I like how he looks at me. Like I'm a puzzle, and he wants to take the time to figure me out.
"I love it, and I'm starving," I admit, eyeing the basket of bread hungrily.
He walks over to the table and holds out the chair for me. He leans down as I sit to push the seat beneath me, and I swear, he sniffs my hair.
"Thank you for joining me tonight, Caitlyn," he says after a moment, and then he walks around the table to sit across from me.
"Thank you for inviting me, Alistair." I grin, and he removes the cloches on the dishes.
"Oh my goodness, this smells so good. Thank you."
"I got it from Pepper Glint. I wasn't sure what your favorite was, and I didn't want to ask anyone."
"I don't usually eat there. It's unofficially reserved for guests."
Alistair's eyes narrow briefly, and then he gestures toward my plate. "Go ahead. Eat up."
He takes a bite of his meal, chewing thoughtfully. "What is your favorite meal at the hotel?"
I pick up my fork. "Sometimes I'll get a sandwich from the pool. They have this Asian chicken wrap that is delicious."
Alistair watches me, nodding.
I take a bite and close my eyes. "Wow." I open them to find Alistair watching me. He looks pleased that I'm enjoying the food.
"Thank you for doing this." I bite my lip. As hungry as I am, the way he looks at me has made me ready to move on to what I'm hoping is the real main event tonight.
Alistair takes another bite of his food, and I manage a sip of my water. I'm flustered under his attention.
"Do you usually eat at the hotel when you stay here?"
Alistair nods. "I do. If I have friends in town, sometimes we'll go to other places. But I like everything contained in one spot. It's why I spend so much money in the casino. I like the perks."
He makes it sound so practical. Like spending hundreds of thousands of dollars for hotel perks is a reasonable use of his money.
"It seems like you're able to come out once a month. Is that going to continue into the new year?" I cut his hair every month when he comes in. But I don't know much about him, including where he spends the rest of his time.
"The future is uncertain." He glances at me with heat in his eyes, and my skin flushes under his attention. "Is that all you're going to eat?"
"Honestly, I'm a little nervous," I admit. And horny. Oh, so very horny.
Alistair puts his fork down. "I make you uncomfortable."
"No, no," I say hurriedly. "I'm very comfortable with you." I reach across the table and rub his hand. "I thought the night..." I swallow hard, before starting again. "I thought the night we made the bet...well, you obviously got started. But I just... I've been waiting...for you."
Alistair nods. "I needed to get some things in order first. I'm sorry for making you wait."
I wave him off, even as I try to figure out what he means about getting things in order.
"Caitlyn, I know we had a bet. But if you do not want to go through with it, I will completely understand." He eyes me seriously, and a horrible thought suddenly occurs to me.
"Do you not want to go through with it?" I ask, embarrassed and self-conscious.
Men don't typically unravel me like this.
I have always been driven and confident.
Previous boyfriends who have commented on my weight, or asked me to change for them, have been kicked to the curb before they had a chance to realize they'd lost me forever.
But the thought of Alistair changing his mind ignites a desperate neediness deep in my bones that is completely foreign to me.
Before I can spiral, Alistair stands and walks over to my seat. He reaches for my hand and pulls me up to my feet. He continues to hold one hand, and I wrap the other one around his neck. Alistair places my hand over his heart. It's beating fast under my fingertips.
"Caitlyn...." He lowers my hand, running it past his stomach, and down to the top of his thigh. He then moves it over so that I'm cupping the hard bulge through his pants, and my eyes go wide.
"Does it feel like I don't want this to happen?" His eyes are hungry, and he closes them when I squeeze gently but firmly.
I lift on my tiptoes and plant my lips to his. No more worry or self-conscious hesitation. Once he put my hand on his cock, all bets were off. Or, on, rather.
Alistair freezes for a second and then melts against me. His hands are everywhere, sliding along my curves like he owns them. Our tongues clash, our kisses erratic and intense, and I don't care. Because he’s mine.
I gasp for air as he breaks away, licking and sucking down my neck as I melt like putty in his hands.
He finds a spot below my ear, and I swallow hard, my hands making quick work of his buttons as I tear his shirt off his body. Alistair walks me backward, toward the master suite, and my core throbs in anticipation of his talented tongue revisiting my pussy. She's been lonely without him.
I moan as Alistair pushes me against the door, holding both hands above my head with one of his as he continues to suck along my neck. My chest heaves, and my panties are soaked. This man owns me.
"Caitlyn, this is your last chance to run. After tonight. You are mine."