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stylish black flip-flops and hoisted a beach bag to her shoulder.

Heading out into the hall as her door shut firmly behind her, she ran smack into a tall, sexy dark-haired guy. She lost her balance, falling against him, one breast pressing squarely against his muscled arm. He caught her around the waist and set her upright.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, still reeling from being in the grip of those strong hands, then looked up to realize—oh God!—it was the leather guy from last night. Only he looked perfectly normal now—not to mention hot—wearing a pair of red swim trunks and a loose white tank top.

“No harm done,” he said with a winning smile.

That’s when the blonde “slave” approached, hurrying up behind him in a teeny black bikini beneath a formfitting cover-up of black mesh that didn’t actually cover anything at all, reminding Carrie of the sexy curves she’d spied last night. “Okay, ready now,” she announced to her lover, only then seeming to notice Carrie. “Hi,” she said in a friendly voice.

“Looks like we’re neighbors,” Carrie replied, motioning vaguely to the door down the hall just now clicking shut.

The blonde’s eyes brightened even more. “Oh, you’re in the other honeymoon suite. I’m Amy, and this is my husband, Cole.” She smiled up at him. “Husband. I’m not quite used to that yet.”

Carrie hadn’t realized the hotel possessed more than one honeymoon suite, but this explained why there was only one other door on her side of the hall and why the two balconies were situated next to each other.

So they were married. And on their honeymoon. They looked so in love. It was hard to reconcile that they were indeed the same couple who’d been wearing bondage apparel and talking so dirty to each other last night.

“I’m Carrie. Nice to meet you.”

“Are you waiting for your husband? We can hold the elevator for him,” Amy offered as the three began making their way up the hall.

Carrie felt a familiar heat climb her cheeks. “Um, actually, no.”

“Oh, he’s already downstairs?”

Carrie considered lying, given the embarrassment factor in the truth, but gave it up. “Actually, I’m here alone.”

Amy raised her eyebrows, clearly confused. “In the honeymoon suite?”

Carrie reached out to push the elevator button as they reached it, glad to have somewhere else to look. “I was supposed to have a husband by now, but…the wedding didn’t exactly come off as planned, which is to say, it didn’t come off at all. So I decided to take the trip anyway to clear my head and unwind.”

“Wow, I’m sorry,” Amy said.

“That’s rough,” Cole echoed.

Carrie forced a smile in their direction. “Yeah, it was a bummer, but I’m ready to put it behind me and enjoy the sun.”

Both of them smiled back and Amy’s eyes widened. “Hey, you want to join us for breakfast?”

“Oh, thanks, but no. You’re on your honeymoon, after all.” And I watched you having sex last night, which makes this whole meeting kind of awkward.

“We don’t mind, do we, honey?” Amy looked up at Cole.

The elevator arrived and Cole held the door, entering last. “Of course not. Why don’t you join us? We’re just grabbing a bite in the restaurant downstairs.”

“They have oceanfront tables—a really nice view,” Amy added.

Carrie sighed. Her plan had been to eat the same restaurant. She only had an hour before boarding her snorkeling cruise, so she didn’t have time to go walking up Duval in search of breakfast. And it would certainly look odd if she turned them down only to appear at the same place right behind them. “Well, if you insist.”

Amy smiled, and Carrie still tried to envision her as the vixen in leather straps who’d been yelling, “Lick me!” last night. It didn’t seem possible—Amy seemed so friendly and sweet. Carrie could only conclude that maybe she was more naïve about sex than she’d thought—that perhaps plenty of perfectly regular people got into leather and bondage and she just didn’t know it.

Within moments, the trio was seated on a platform overlooking the marina and the ocean beyond. The morning sun beat down on their shoulders as they ordered hearty breakfast meals and made small talk. Carrie learned her companions lived in Chicago, and in turn, she told them about growing up in Maryland and the small bookstore she’d opened there two years ago.

When conversation drifted to how they were all enjoying their vacation, Carrie discovered that, so far, she hadn’t actually done anything on the trip she felt comfortable discussing, but she found herself casually mentioning the Party Barge before she could stop herself.

“I hear that’s a pretty wild scene,” Cole said, forking a bite of scrambled eggs to his mouth.

You don’t know the half of it. “Yeah, more wild than I expected. Lots of girls taking their tops off, a wet t-shirt contest, that sort of thing.”

She watched Amy and Cole exchange glances. “Maybe we should book one of those ourselves, babe,” Cole said, flashing a smile. “I’ve never actually seen you in a wet t-shirt before, but I have a feeling I’d like the view,” he concluded with a wink.

And only when Amy said, “Yeah, might be fun,” did Carrie realize they were serious, and that they weren’t shy about admitting that sort of outing appealed to them.

“Did you enter?” Amy asked matter-of-factly, lifting her juice glass.

Carrie blinked. A minute ago, she’d have definitely lied, but their open honesty made lying feel silly. “I…won, actually.”

Cole let out a chuckle of admiration and Amy grinned. “Way to go, girlfriend.”

“I’m impressed,” Cole said. “That’s definitely the way to get over a wedding gone bad.”

“Well…” She found herself glancing down at her plate, stirring her eggs around with her fork. “I didn’t exactly plan it. The, uh, rum punch made me do it.”

Both laughed, and Amy said, “The rum punch would probably make me do it, too,” as she peered knowingly at her husband.

He reached out to cover Amy’s hand on the table. “Yeah, this one can’t hold her liquor.”

“Guess that makes two

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