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MAKAYLA

I give Bryan a good-night hug before he finally leaves me for the night.

“Thanks for everything, Bry.”

“Don’t mention it, Kay. I’m glad you’re here,” he says.

“Me, too. Just tell me there’s a Swedish buffet involved for breakfast in the morning.”

He chuckles. “You’re going to love it.”

Once he’s gone and I’m left alone, I take a moment to settle into the space and my new circumstances.

If I’m lucky, I’ll get a few hours of sleep before my suitemates wake up. I duck into my bedroom and discover that it’s everything I’d hoped for. There’s plenty of space. I grab my laptop bag from the suitcase and place it on the desk. I’m out of a job, so I’m not even sure why I brought it.

“I can still hunt for jobs,” I mutter, refusing to consider anything I brought with me as dead weight.

I head for the shower after, desiring to get clean from all the unavoidable musty airplane odor. Knowing that the triplets are so close gets me all fired up. I’ve been stressed out for nearly twenty hours; I deserve to savor the news.

I turn on the shower and undress, standing in front of the mirror and giving myself a once-over.

I’m curvy in all the right places. My hair is a tangled mess right now, but a thorough wash and a heavy dollop of conditioner will fix that.

The moment the hot water hits my skin, a wave of pleasure sweeps through me.

It feels so good. I let out a long sigh, closing my eyes to better appreciate the sensation.

I draw a deep, slow breath, basking in the steamy heat. “That’s the stuff.”

The thought of those three hunks sleeping right next door sends my libido into overdrive.

I feel a little bit embarrassed. What would Alex, Kellan, and Oscar think if they knew I was fantasizing about them?

They probably still think of me as Bryan’s little sister—not a grown woman capable of a real, live hookup.

That’s okay, because at the moment, they’re none the wiser.

I tilt my head back, leaning up against the shower wall and letting the water pummel my belly.

Cupping my breast in one hand, I imagine Alex first. He played baseball and football in high school.

I remember seeing him in his baseball uniform, dusty from sliding across home plate.

His sweet brown eyes lit up when he smiled, sending shivers down my preteen spine. They send shivers through me even now.

Now I imagine him all grown up. Alex 2.0 is all lean, sculpted muscle—broader shoulders, stronger arms that beckon me. What if he corners me on one of those leather sofas and kisses me? That would be crazy—especially if I kissed him back with equal hunger.

“Hey,” he might say. “What’s this?”

“I’ve always fantasized about you,” I’d confess.

“Really?” He toys with my hair, his smoldering gaze already stripping me bare. “I’ve known you since you were a little girl.”

“I’m not a little girl anymore,” I say, lifting my chin.

He leans in, his voice a husky dare. “Prove it.”

“With pleasure,” I respond.

His lips would taste like heaven, his jaw covered in that prickly, early-morning stubble. I would straddle him, grinding down while my hands splay across his rippling pecs. In my dream, he doesn’t object. In fact, he pulls me closer, sliding two fingers beneath my bra strap to expose my shoulder.

“This is starting to feel like an excellent idea with each passing minute,” Alex says, his breath ragged with arousal.

I meet his gaze, unflinching. “I’m everything you ever dreamed of—and more.” I doubt I would be that bold in front of him, but it’s my shower dream, so I can be however I want in my head.

He smiles in that renegade way he has, his brown eyes lighting up.

I run my fingers through his hair, tilting my head back when he kisses my throat.

I’m on cloud nine when Oscar enters the room.

I fully expect Alex to push me off his lap, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he glances up at his brother with a mischievous smile. Oscar stands back to admire the view.

“What have we got here?” Oscar says.

I wonder if this is the end of my foray into the Anderson triplets’ love life, but Oscar doesn’t disapprove. He doesn’t even seem jealous. He removes his glasses and sets them on the coffee table before putting his hand over Alex’s on the small of my back.

Oh, I know what’s about to happen because I’ve imagined it dozens of times before.

“Do you think you’re woman enough to take two of us?” Oscar asks, but it sounds like a challenge.

One I would gladly accept. I’m drowning in my own imagination, and I find it difficult to draw a breath. But the moment is so delicious, I throw caution to the wind. I tilt my chin higher. “I could take all three of you.”

Oscar’s hand shoots up, and he grabs a fistful of my locks. He tilts my head back and bends down to kiss me, all the while I’m grinding on his brother’s lap. One man sits beneath me while the other hovers above. That’s all I need to get my juices flowing.

I reach between my legs to touch myself. I imagine both Oscar and Alex pressing against me. My eyes are closed as tension gathers in my core. Someone grips my breast, but I’m not sure who. It doesn’t matter; I’m enjoying both of them at the same time.

The water rains down on me, enveloping me in heat. I climax quickly, all the years of pent-up lust getting the better of me. My stomach quivers and my legs shake. I remove my hand, feeling refreshed and exhausted at the same time. I barely reach the bed before collapsing in boneless relief.

I wake up to sunlight streaming in through the giant window. With no idea what time it is, I search for my phone.

I pat the sheets. “Where the heck is it?”

The hotel pillow is impossibly soft, swallowing my whole head.

I have to struggle to free myself. I roll to the left, nearly dropping onto the floor before I catch myself with one bare foot.

The robe falls open and I can feel the cotton of the hotel sheets against my breasts.

Blinking the sleep away from my eyes, I right myself.

I spot my phone on the floor. “There you are.”

The battery is dead, so I leave it to charge while I wander into the bathroom where all of my clothes are still lying on the floor. Once I’m done gathering them, I brush my teeth and comb my hair, then turn my phone on and discover that it’s almost noon.

“I slept like a frickin’ queen for eight whole hours. Well done, Kay.”

I’m not sure if the Anderson triplets will be in the suite or not, but there’s no time like the present to announce my arrival.

With the robe cinched around my waist, I step out into the common area. I’m disappointed to discover that none of the guys are here. Two doors are open, which means they’re awake. The third door is closed. They’re probably off enjoying the slopes or getting some work done before lunch.

“Too late for that Swedish buffet, though,” I tell myself, then shrug. “Ah, well, I’ll try again tomorrow. Now, where the heck are they?”

They all work together, and my brother’s with them, so my first instinct is to check the executive lounge on the resort’s ground floor.

Last night, I gave the suite a cursory glance, but there’s a ton of stuff I missed.

In one corner, there’s a bookshelf with all the latest paperback novels and a few board games.

Turning around, I find myself facing a set of glass doors.

I walk outside to discover that there’s a private hot tub on our balcony, overlooking the mountain in the distance.

The view is breathtaking. The ski slopes rise high above us, covered in shimmering white snow.

The day is crisp and clear. My breath escapes in little puffs, causing me to shiver and draw my robe tighter.

I wonder what it would be like to take a dip in the hot tub and watch the sun climb toward its peak.

“Why wonder?” I decide that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

I hurry back inside, excited to start my day in such a decadent fashion.

After a quick rummage through my bags, I unearth the two-piece bathing suit I knew I’d packed.

It’s more sporty than revealing, with enough fabric to support my breasts.

After I slip into the suit, I walk back to the living room to pick a book.

Might as well do some light reading, so I grab the one with a hot guy on the cover.

And as if the gods weren’t generous enough already, I find all the ingredients I need to whip up a mimosa, too.

“Perfect.”

Arms loaded with champagne, orange juice, a single flute, and my book, I head for the balcony.

I hook the door open with a bare toe and step outside—only to wobble and let both bottles thunk down at my feet.

“Crap!” I blurt, then sag with relief when I see the bottles are intact.

The balcony’s rubberized flooring must be the kind bars use to keep bottles from shattering—smart. Even smarter, discreet heaters push warm air around me, holding back the bite of the Swedish winter beyond.

It’s still cold, but not as cold as it could be.

The book slips from beneath my arm and flops open at my feet. “No, no, no!” Now I’m clutching a single flute of champagne—and wearing a swimsuit that suddenly feels far less conservative than I’d believed.

“Makayla?” A deep male voice startles me.

I hadn’t even noticed him—I’d been too busy fumbling through my clumsy entrance.

A stunning specimen of masculinity lounges in the hot tub, feet propped on the rim, muscular arms draped over the headrests. He must’ve come out when I was in the kitchen. I recognize him—at least I think I do. Oscar… or maybe Alex? I blink hard, wondering if it’s Kellan instead.

My throat slams shut, not allowing me to speak. My fantasy of the night before comes back to haunt me. Heat floods my cheeks as I recall two pairs of hands caressing my skin.

“Hello,” I manage.

“Hello,” he says. “Wow, you’ve grown up.”

It’s not exactly the spicy talk from my dream, but it’s close enough. I clear my throat, looking down at the mess I’ve made.

“Shoot.” I crouch to steady the bottles, leaving the glass where it is until I regain my bearings.

The Greek-god hunk slides over, patting the water. “Hop in.”

I grin, granting myself full permission to enjoy the moment as I glide toward the Jacuzzi. Nothing feels out of the ordinary—at least that’s what I’m telling myself. It’s not like I’m actively courting trouble… even the delicious, spicy kind.