I wake up in the morning to the interior of the small guesthouse flooded with the soft, orange glow of the sunrise peeking through the windows.

And I'm naked. With Alaina's arm hugging my waist and her cheek squishing against my chest. Her breath tickles my skin, each soft blow feeling like a warm breeze near the ocean.

Mon dieu, she looks so beautiful. With her parted mouth and the top of her breasts peeking out from beneath the covers reaching her collarbone, her loose hair sprawling over part of her face, the rise and fall of her chest.

Glancing at the clock hanging on the wall, the hands are pointed at… merde, it's past six. I'm supposed to spend time with my sister, and we need to be back in the city by this evening.

I climb out of bed, careful not to disturb Alaina. She just looks so peaceful that I don't wish to disrupt her sleep. And perhaps I will be able to sneak out of the guest house to avoid her when she wakes up. Because truth be told, the last thing I want to do is talk about last night. There's no doubt she will want to.

Stretching my neck from side to side, I look back at Alaina, sleeping like a cute kitten. I find myself wishing that I could just kiss her on the forehead and whisper to her "bonjour" while she nuzzles into me. But I can't. Last night was just a one-time thing, no strings-attached. No catching feelings. I can't have that.

I'm still wearing my panties, so I don't bother draping anything over me. The cool, smooth wooden floor feels pleasant against my bare feet as I walk to the bathroom. When I pass the six-foot mirror standing propped against the wall near the closet, I stop to admire myself. Mon dieu, if I could make love to myself, I would. And anyone who does should be grateful they had the chance to. My mind starts to drift back to my last relationship.

That ungrateful traitor.

Shaking the thoughts away, I close the door and flick on the lights. The beige walls with patterns of black and gray cracks become illuminated by the soft, white light. A Jacuzzi stands nearby, surrounded by dark beige wall tiles and vine plants hanging around, which makes me miss the one I have at my roach-infested monstrosity. Merde.

I turn on the shower to almost hot. The sound of water pelting the tiles and the humid air flood my mind like peaceful waves as I take off my panties and drop them on the floor.

My body shudders with pleasure as I step in, the hot water caresses my skin with its scorching touch. Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back and run my hands over my hair and neck, to my breasts, down to my stomach and pelvis, my red hair turning dark as it clings to my skin.

My mind crawls back to last night. I recall the way Alaina moaned and succumbed to me. Watching her smart-mouth silenced by being wrapped around my fingers as she tasted herself, her eyes locked into mine when she surprised me by wanting to “have a sample” of me, as she said. The reminder of the absolute sexiness of her speaking in French floods the spot between my thighs with a burning heat.

Mon dieu, she looked so beautiful, so fucking perfect, with her curves and small breasts. Her face when she elated into her first orgasm, the knowledge turning me on even more, of being her first to make her feel that way. The rage I felt when she confirmed that the men she's been with have forced themselves on her and she thought it's normal and okay.

Putain, if I ever find them, I'll make sure each and every one of them suffers a fate worse than death, because even that would be too kind for them.

But the water flowing down my body not only starts to clear the remnants of last night away, it also clears my mind. I did it again. I slept with my assistant.

I swore it would never happen again, that I would never fuck my assistant, not after the last time I did so.

But I couldn't resist her, her talking back, her attitude. As much as it pisses me off, it also turns me on to heights I never would have thought possible. It's as if she flips on a switch inside of me, and it doesn't help she's so fucking gorgeous.

A part of me wants to believe her when she said that she would never hurt me, even if she doesn't know what happened, although perhaps I might have let it slip. Because the one before her did betray me for money. That's all anyone cares about when it comes to me. My fame and my money. How am I supposed to know that Alaina isn't just the same?

Merde, and I crossed the line last night. Made it all real. It was all a mistake, an accident. And as much as I loved taking her body and mind to heaven, it can't happen again. Not with my career and reputation on the line.

Scrubbing the mint-scented goat milk soap over my body, dread settles into my heart when I think of Alaina waking up and realizing what we did last night. Will she regret it? Will she sell me out? Or worse, will she expect us to actually become serious?

Shaking off these thoughts, I focus on the main reason why I'm here. To spend some time with my little sister until we have to leave later today.

Wrapping a towel around me, I walk back into the bedroom and find Alaina still sleeping in the same position that I left her. Mon dieu, she looks so beautiful, like a princess drawn by a love-stricken painter, and I'm the painter. If given the choice, I'd make love to every single inch of her body and devour her like she's the sweetest dessert.

Bad for my health, my career, but so fucking irrésistible.

I reach my bag and take out a pair of Dior jeans, underwear, and a beige blouse. Dropping the towel, I start to slide into my panties when I hear a soft, squeaky gasp behind me. I turn around at Alaina looking at me with her eyes wide like round saucers, her mouth parted a little before she quickly covers her face with her hand and averts her gaze. I smirk in amusement at the redness creeping onto her cheeks.

“Salut toi, Alaina.”

“G-good morning?” she stammers, still refusing to look at me.

I chuckle. “Look at who's starting to learn some French. Sounds like some of me had rubbed off on you last night, no?” Tilting my head, I take my bra from the chair. “Come on now, mon amour. No need to shy away from looking at me.”

When she doesn't move, I sigh. “Look at me, Alaina.” This time, it's a command.

Her fingers part a little as her head turns to me. She pulls her hand away, her eyes sweeping over me from top to bottom, lingering a little too long at my breasts. And despite my earlier speech to myself in the shower, the betraying heat crawls over every inch of my body as I watch her drink me in like the most expensive red wine.

I can't deny it. I love the admiration in her eyes, the quickening rise and fall of her chest through the covers. The way her teeth draw in her bottom lip, her sex hair sprawling around her face. And with slow movements, I strap on my bra, and I could be almost certain that disappointment covers her face when I put away my assets.

With a smirk, I grab my jeans. “Did you sleep well?”

She blinks a few times before nodding. “Yeah, I…” her voice comes out a little hoarse. She clears her throat and shifts in the bed. “I did.”

“I'd bet. A first orgasm can leave one very tired.” Her face flushes ever redder as I pull on my pants. “I do hope, however, that you're not too tired to work today as you will need to accompany me with whatever activities Léa has planned and you have paperwork to do tonight when we get home.”

“Oh, no, definitely not, Ms. Seydoux!”

I frown. “Now, what did I say about using my last name, Alaina?”

“I-I mean, Mylène. I-I won't be too tired.”

“That's my good girl.” She licks her lips and swallows. Her eyes dart over the room and over to her bra and panties still lying on the floor from last night.

“You don't need to worry about being naked in front of me. But if you'd like, I can throw you my towel and look away.” As much as I want to look at her delicious body, making her uncomfortable especially after her past experiences is the last thing I'd want to do. I might be cruel, but not like that. Not to her.

She nods. “T-that would be good.”

I throw her the towel, landing right in her lap when someone knocks on the door. Merde, that must be Léa.

“Mylie? Are you up?” Léa calls out, confirming my thoughts.

Grabbing the blouse, I put it on and start to button it up as Alaina scrambles out of bed just as I glance at her. Her perfect, round ass showing itself to me for just one second, and mon dieu, it's so perfect for my hands to spa–

“Mylie?” Léa asks again, ripping through my dirty mind as she incessantly knocks.

“Yes, I'm up Léa! Just hold on one second!” I call out, then turn to Alaina as my fingers fumble with the last buttons. “Hurry up, Alaina,” I hiss.

“One– I'm coming in!” Léa sings out, the doorknob starting to turn.

Alaina trips over unknown what and falls down with the towel still on the bed. Merde, the clumsy dumbass. Rushing over to her, I help her up. I ignore the lightning shock of electricity when I touch her bare skin, quickly wrapping the towel around just as Léa bounds into the house with a mischievous smile on her face.

“Léa! Have you not learned boundaries?”

“Nope! And honestly, that's what you get for not seeing me–” She stops when she sees Alaina behind me, then looks at the messy bed and the… merde, Alaina's underwear are still on the ground. Her face contorts into a mix of excitement and disgust. “Ewww, did… did you two–?” Her hand flies to her mouth as her eyes widen in shock. “Holy shit, so it's official official!”

“Language, Léa,” I reprimand as her mouth widens into a grin. Leaning back to Alaina , I whisper:“Go into the bathroom. I'll meet you at the house.”

Alaina nods, quickly fleeing to the bathroom and shutting the door. Léa sports a look of amusement as she bounces side to side, unable to contain her excitement.

“Léa…” I warn.

“This is so cool! Like, disgusting, but awesome!” She looks at the bed again. “Like, I want to sit on there but I know the sheets are so gross.”

I blink at her in shock. “I–”

“I'm happy for you, Mylie. And now, you might actually spend more time with me and maman and papa.”

“Pfft, I'm not sure about that.” Walking to the foot of the bed where she stands, I start to put on my shoes. “What did you even come here for, Léa?”

Léa claps her hands together. “Okay, so, do you know what I have in mind for us to do after breakfast?”

With a sigh, I roll my eyes. “I'm not a mind reader, sis.”

She pouts. “You're no fun these days. Anyway, I thought you, me, and your girlfriend could go hiking at Escondido Falls.”

I frown. “You mean hiking through mud?”

“Yep. Unless you're too spoiled.”

“Excuse me, what's that supposed to mean?”

“You and your fancy clothes, I bet you're a scaredy-cat of getting even a pack of dust on your hair.”

Narrowing my eyes, I reach out my hand to grab her around the waist but she jumps out of range. She grins and then squeals when I catch her.

"Who's the scaredy-cat now?" Léa giggles uncontrollably when I tickle her stomach.

"St-op," she gasps breathlessly in between laughs.

"Do you take back what you said?" I growl, only increasing my attack on her ticklish spots.

"Never!" She finally wrenches free from my grasp, her face a bright red as she blows a loose strand of hair from the mess on her head.

"What's going on in here?” Alaina asks, appearing from the shower with her hair still damp.

Léa and I both look at each other before turning to Alaina.

"Just dealing with an annoying bug," I snort, glancing at my sister who plants her hands on her hips. "See? Now she looks like one."

Léa rolls her eyes. "We were talking about hiking."

Alaina beams. “Oh, that sounds like my cup of tea! I absolutely love mountain hiking.”

“See, Mylie? Even your hot girlfriend loves it.”

I shove her in the shoulder, making her stumble back with a lop-sided grin of mischief. She sticks her tongue out at me, to which I answer with a glare before letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Okay, fine. But if I do get any spots on me, it's coming out of your allowance because you'll be paying for the damages.”

Léa grins, not believing in my threat. “Sure, boss. Race you to the house!” Without wasting a second, she disappears out the door.

"Go ahead, I'll meet you there," Alaina says with a smile hovering on her lips, her plump lips which look so delicious that my stomach actually growls. Quietly, but apparently not enough because she chuckles lightly. "I think your stomach agrees."

I suppress from wincing. "Très bien, amour." Walking out the door, I find my sister looking at me through the window in the main house as dread gathers in the out of my stomach.

Merde, couldn't she have picked tennis?