Movement beside me prompted me to open my eyes. Brightness flooded my sight. I blinked once, twice, three times before realizing I'd been sleeping on my side, facing the window. Sunlight poured into the room, filling me with warmth, comfort—and memories.

"Oh, shit," I said, abruptly sitting up, my senses fuzzy. I glanced to my right and found the source of the movement that had woken me: the delicious stranger who'd fucked me against a window last night. Then on the floor, because we couldn't make it to the bed in time. Then on the bed, before collapsing in exhaustion and delight.

There he was, squinting towards the window, noticing me as I leaned forward and blocked the sunlight before it swarmed his face. "Hi there," he said, voice raspy with sleep, smacking his lips as he peered at my uncovered backside.

"Hi," I said, shame slithering into me. I tugged the blanket up over my chest and winced. "Uh, good morning."

He smiled; one of those sly smirks that indicated he was also recalling everything we'd done the night before. All the times we'd come together and screamed with pleasure. All the kisses, the exploring, the thrusting. My thighs burned as I tried to move them, turning to the bedside table where I'd apparently plugged in her phone.

She didn't remember doing that.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind," said Mystery man, stretching. Had we been cuddling? His warm body was close to mine, curled sideways as if he'd been spooning me. "I got up to go to the bathroom and saw your phone on the floor, and had a charger for it, so I plugged it in."

He has random chargers for all kinds of phones? Sheesh, money is nice.

"Thanks, I appreciate that, with the day I have ahead of me." I stiffened, jolting towards the table to snatch my cell and verify the time. "Phew," my shoulders relaxed, "it's only seven-thirty."

"So you're not much of a sleeping in late kind of gal, are you?" He fluffed his pillow and rested his elbow on the mattress, keeping his front-side facing me. The cover barely reached up to below his navel. I gulped remembering the incredible body he'd hidden under his clothes.

"I'm not a sleeping kind of gal," I laughed, "more of a sleep whenever you're able to kind of person." I sighed, unplugging my cell and creeping out of bed to approach the window. The sun's rays caressing the gentle water below offered a splendid view that I doubted my own room would allow. "Do you mind if I...?" I gestured at the glass pane with my phone.

"Go for it. One of the most beautiful views ever." Mystery man watched as I padded to the window, snapped a few photos, then returned to bed. I was naked, and only remembered that fact as I spotted his eyes roving over my body, his tongue swiping over his lips.

"Oh, yeah?" I grinned at him, my lower half waking up, growing wet with sudden desire for him. No matter my exhaustion, I could be ready for another round in seconds, if needed. And staring at the blankets, beneath which I knew his erection would be throbbing for me, my arousal grew.

He reached out a hand to pull me closer to him, his eyes narrowed on my breasts as my nipples pricked with anticipation. As he opened his mouth—probably to say something dirty, as seemed to be his thing, I'd noticed—a different sound came out.

A ringtone.

"Fuck," he said, swerving to his bedside table to pick up his phone. He glared at the screen, then groaned, falling onto his back. "I'm sorry, no-name beauty, but I have to take this." He hopped out of bed, giving me two seconds to admire his rounded, firm ass as he hurried out into the living area.

With a huff, I dropped my head onto the pillow, glancing up at the patterned ceiling. I could have dipped my finger into my wetness now to fix my issue—my pulsating clit—but maybe it was for the best that Fantasy man had cut things short. It was supposed to be a one-night stand, not a three-times-in-one-night plus a morning round stand.

I got up, threw on my undergarments, snatched my phone. Creeping out into the living room, I expected to find him pacing in the nude in front of the window, but he wasn't there. Other doors on the opposite end of the room indicated other areas; he'd be in one of those for privacy. My heart jumped at the notion that he might have been married, and I hurried to locate the rest of my clothes, snag my purse, and sneak out before he returned.

I'd never see him again, with how busy the next three days would be for me.

Flushing in shame—but also swollen with a wicked pride at my naughty night—I took the stairs down to the ground floor and retreated to my room. A fresh linen scent welcomed me, and I giggled at the bed I hadn't used, at the outfit I'd laid out over the blankets to wear today.

I showered—struggling not to touch myself as I pictured him showering with me—dressed, dabbed some light makeup on my face, and made for the door, to go find something to eat and a large cup of coffee.

As I opened the door, Chi was standing there, arm raised and fist clenched to knock.

"Oh, hey," they said, cocking their head, analyzing my surprised features. Their patterned leggings and cream-colored tunic gave them the airs of a hippie tourist.

"Good morning," I said, sliding by Chi and closing the door behind me. "Breakfast?"

Chi caught a quick glance inside the room before I sealed it from view. "Did you sleep in your bed?" They set a palm on my cheek, staring deep into my eyes. "Did you sleep at all?"

"Wow, do I look that bad?" I snatched her purse and clipboard, then brushed them off as I hastened in the direction of the lobby.

Chi's heeled loafers clicked on the marble floors as they caught up with me. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, hang on there, dirty girl." Their voice was tinted with curiosity. "Are you going to tell me about last night? You left looking pretty ready to jump each other's bones, so...did you?"

I sped up, passing a few other patrons, my stomach growling. "It'll eat you on the inside if I don't tell you, won't it?"

Chi snorted. "I need a yes or no; did you fuck him?"

I thought it was more the other way around, that he fucked me, but sex was sex. "Yes." I scanned the lobby's lounge, ensuring Mystery man wasn't hanging out there, waiting. "Three times."

"Damn," Chi whistled, "well, are you good now? Is Olivia out of your head? Are we in your boy-era?"

I elbowed them and scurried over to the restaurant, lining up for the breakfast buffet. Scents of bacon and maple and freshly brewed coffee reached my nostrils. I pressed a hand to my gut, telling it to calm down.

We ate in silence, though Chi's pointed looks—begging for more details—prompted me to chortle every few bites, enjoying retaining the precious information for myself. I usually would share my sexcapades with Chi, but the moment I'd left Mystery man's room, I was in work-mode. And in work-mode, I didn't talk about my sex life with anyone. Chi knew that, and still, it drove them nuts to not know if I orgasmed and how big the man's dick was.

When I was on her second cup of coffee, my phone buzzed.

"Oh," I guzzled down the rest of my beverage and put the mug down, "they're coming."

I'd set up an alert system with the airport shuttle drivers, to notify me when the VIP guests and bridal party started showing up. The first round was on their way now, soon to pull up in the courtyard.

I tossed a breath mint into my mouth, fixed my hair, and hastened into the lobby to await the group.

The groom's parents were the first to burst into the lobby, with the groom himself—Reece White—between them.

Shock and awe was written all over their faces. While the groom had that permanent surfer dude vibe about him, with the golden blond beach hair and the permanently tanned skin, his parents were something else. His mother wore a dress straight out of a Real Housewives TV show, and his dad was a literal cowboy, complete with the boots, the hat, the leather jacket.

When he greeted me, saying "Howdy!" I cringed so hard my face hurt. Chi snorted beside me, turning away to laugh under their breath at the sight.

Not that either of us had any issue with these folk's choice of attire or lifestyle; but I knew Mr. and Mrs. White would stick out like sore thumbs. They were the exuberant, obnoxiously kind types, curious and probing and loud. From the way Violet had once spoken of the parents, I doubted the bride was all-too-pleased with their demeanors.

"Hi," said Reece, wincing as his parents fluttered about the lobby, exclaiming at the luxurious details in every piece of furniture. He shook my hand with a firm grip, and pointed towards the check-in desk. "Have you seen Violet today? She was, uh," he sucked in his lips and exhaled, "stressed when we talked on the phone after I landed."

Despite his beachy shorts and flip-flops, and rumors about him being an air-brained man-boy glued to Violet's arm for clout, I thought Reece was a well-behaved, kind young gentleman. When I'd met him for the first time, I'd been impressed by his wit and his charm—but not so impressed by the boys he'd selected as his groomsmen. They were the air-brained ones, for sure.

"I'm betting it was nerves," I said, steering Reece and his posse towards the check-in clerk. "Get settled and relax until tonight, yeah? Welcome to the Villa des Tropiques."

I inhaled, exhaled, and moments later, the doors opened again to reveal the groomsmen, with their sandals and baseball hats and excessive cologne, spilling into the space as if it belonged to them, and disregarding Chi and I as we waited to greet them.

"Cool dudes," said Chi, rolling their eyes.

The attitude didn't shock me in the least. Violet had warned me about these dudes when she first gave me her guest list and bridal party information.

The rowdy men all stormed up to Reece and high fived him, clapping his back, whooping as they mocked him for tying the knot.

Typical.

Another round of guests arrived, these ones more reserved, but all the more intimidating—the bridesmaids. They were copies of Violet with their oversized sunglasses and sundresses, but with different hair colors and purse styles. All with designer hats and accessories, platform sandals that cost half of my salary, and their noses in the air as they bypassed me. One of them looked me up and down, pursed her lips, and led the way to the check-in clerk.

"Wow, rude," whispered Chi, turning to glare at the women's backsides. "Have you met them before?"

I shrugged; again, this wasn't an attitude that took me by surprise. "The best man and the maid-of-honor, yes." I craned my neck to glimpse the group, trying not to snicker. "The one that sized me up was the maid-of-honor, actually."

Maisie. I'd found her annoying and pushy from the get-go. But she was Violet's best friend, supposedly, and who was I to tell her how to set up her bridal party?

Three more people showed up as I flipped back to the doors—the bride's other brother, her sister, and her sister's girlfriend.

"Hello," I said, nearing them with a warm smile, dismissing my earlier feelings of disgust towards the maid-of-honor. "I'm Vivienne Clarke, the wedding planner, here to greet you and thank you for attending."

The brother, Harvey, oddly reminded me of someone, but I couldn't place who. Maybe a bit of Ed Sheeran with his reddish hair? He inclined his head politely and wandered into the restaurant, avoiding the crowded check-in space loaded with yelling men and squeaking ladies. Reece lingered, making jokes with his boys. The bridesmaids were headed upstairs at last.

"Don't mind him," said Estelle, Violet's older sister. From what I'd heard from Violet, Estelle was twenty-six and in charge of her own line of gourmet restaurants. Her girlfriend, Mollie, was her business associate, and together they were planning to open a few more spots along the west coast. "He's a bit socially awkward. It's nice to meet you, Vivienne, and..." She peered at Chi, inquisitive.

"Chi," they said, shaking her hand. "Pleasure to meet more queer folk at this shindig."

Mollie laughed, sliding her dark brown hand into Chi's. "Hell yes," she whispered, smiling wide.

I didn't say it—as the lead organizer I preferred to not reveal too much about myself—but I was happy for the representation, too.

As the couple sauntered off to the check-in desk, picking up their keys—I had pre-checked everyone in—the area grew quiet, at last. The beach boys had taken off to their rooms, and the bridesmaid's frou-frou perfumes no longer saturated the lobby.

"Thank fuck that's over," said Chi, unleashing a heavy breath of relief. "Are there any more?"

I inspected my phone. "No more VIPs. A few more guests will show up throughout the day, but I wasn't asked to welcome them personally. We're off the hook until a few vendors check in with me in about an hour; and then later this afternoon, when we have to help organize the cocktail party."

Sliding my cell into my jacket pocket, I spun to the check-in desk, planning on making sure everyone had received their keys—and froze.

Violet, much more relaxed than yesterday in leggings and an off-the-shoulder shirt, was embracing someone near the check-in desk, a few steps away from the main stairs. Someone who looked strangely familiar to me; someone I felt like I'd seen recently, or met recently, or—

"Oh, fuck," Chi and I said in unison, when the man's face became visible.

It was him. Him, the mysterious but gorgeous man from last night. My one-night-stand that I'd snuck off from earlier that morning, the one I hadn't said goodbye to. There was no way to miss him, to not recognize that dimpled smile, those bright teeth, that gingery scruff on his squared jawline.

He was hugging Violet? He knew Violet? Why did he know Violet?

"Is he a guest at the wedding?" Chi's arm joined with mine, and I sensed them trembling. If they were worried, how was I supposed to feel?

As the man pulled away and kissed Violet's forehead, something jumped in my stomach. Something bulky, spiky, prickling my extremities. Some hunch that shouted at me that the entire event was about to be turned upside down.

"Hi there," said Chi, barreling forward to interrupt the sweet episode between Violet and Mystery man. "Did we miss greeting this gentleman here? Is he on the VIP list?"

Violet's eyes went wide as she gaped at Chi, then at me. "You weren't introduced?"

I pinched Chi in the side—a warning that they'd spoken too fast without giving me a moment to formulate a plan, to approach Violet with caution. If I'd missed a guest, if I'd forgotten to check someone in...

But then again, this man already had a room, didn't he? He'd showed up before me, before anyone else on the guest list.

Who the fuck is he?

When the man's gaze encountered mine, his face went blank. Not in surprise, not in repulsion, but in utter neutrality. As if he'd never seen me before, or somehow didn't recognize me after waking up next to me a few hours ago.

"Have we not met?" I extended my hand to him, hoping he wouldn't notice how my arm shook.

Shit, shit, shit.

"Not officially," he said, grasping my hand, squeezing it in a way that showed me he did recognize me; but he wasn't ready to admit we'd been acquainted with one another so privately. He was stern, almost grumpy as he cleared his throat. "I'm actually the one paying for all this. This," he signaled towards the lobby, "is my hotel."

Suddenly everything made sense—the ridiculously huge room, the exquisite outfits, the fancy watch, the shiny shoes, his classy but business-like demeanor. The fact that he'd been here before me, and his ease with navigating the place. It was his.

"This is my oldest brother," said Violet, beaming as she patted her brother's shoulder. "Axel Levine."

Ice filled my veins as I rooted to the spot.

Axel Levine. Violet's brother. CEO of Levine Luxury Group, and...my employer.

☼☼☼