Lyra's POV
The golden hues of the sunlight filtered in unhindered through the window, rustling me awake from my sleep. My lashes fluttered, and the beginnings of a headache hit. I groaned as I sat up, rubbing my temples so hard as if that would make the ache go away.
I heard a soft stir beside me, and in that split second, I froze. The memories came flooding back instantly, the kiss back at the bar, this stranger's arms all around me, touching me in ways I never knew were possible.
A bird cooed in the distance and I wished it would go away, so it wouldn't rouse this stranger. It was all dark last night, and with how drunk I was, it was quite impossible to make out his features.
Apart from those eyes, those dark eyes that looked like they held more secrets than the world could bear.
Without them open, it gave me the chance to look at him properly. He was naked, half of his muscular body getting lost under the white sheets. The stranger had black shaved hair, with a day-old stubble growing on his chin.
He had striking features, with a very handsome face that I knew I could never miss. For some reason, he looked familiar, but I couldn't place my hands on where I'd seen him before.
I tried to move, and shivered immediately the cold air hit my skin. Despite the fact that it seemed like winter was ready to say bye to us outside, it didn't reflect inside this house with how cold it was inside.
My eyes finally moved away from the stranger's very masculine features, flushing a bright shade of red when I remembered how many times my eyes had rolled to the back of my head each time he'd brought me close to the edge.
I giggled silently when I saw red, angry marks on his back, no doubt from my perfectly manicured nails. It was supposed to be for my wedding, which ought to have happened today.
"Urgh!" I sighed silently, allowing my eyes to roam around the spacious room.
It looked like something straight out of a novel, with the black posts around the bed, the black frame, the thick black curtains and the white door leading to what I was certain was the closet.
There was a lot of black theme going on in there, and it made me question the identity of the man I'd just had a one-night stand with. He could have been a killer, yet I followed him home last night.
Where was home, even?
I made to get out of bed as quietly as possible when an idea struck me. Narrowing my gaze, I put my feet down on the most comfortable rug I had ever stepped on. I needed no one to tell me it was Persian and black.
Moving slowly, I went down on my knees, searching for the pants I'd been putting on last night. I let out a victorious cheer when I found it, then fiddled with the pockets until I found my phone.
I returned to the bed, extra careful this time because I was already moving around too much and I didn't want the stranger I'd happened to sleep with last night to wake up just yet.
Scooting close enough to be in the same frame with him, but not too much to wake him up, I unlocked my phone and opened the camera app, stretching my hand out to take a picture.
The silent click made me giddy but at the same time filled with vengeance. It took little for me to remember what Ethan had done to me, to the life we would have had together, when I opened Instagram and was slapped by the content we made of our wedding happening today.
Smoking with anger just because I thought I'd gone past the stage of hurt, I uploaded the picture I had taken of this sexy stranger and myself, our naked skins and entangled legs under the sheets enough to send the right message to my cheating ex-fiancé.
Locking my phone after seeing the uploaded confirmation, I get out of bed a second time, retrieving my jeans and cute t-shirt Ethan had given me when we were still dating.
Urghh! Why did everything remind me of him so badly?
As I snuck out of the bedroom, I gasped when I realized it was an open plan, the only thing separating the room from the living area was a staircase made of gold.
It was a villa, with state-of-the-art furnishing, and my mouth watered as I moved down the stairs, into the expansive living area.
"Who the hell did I just have a one-night stand with?" I whispered to myself as I walked towards the door, hoping I never got to see him again. Because then, I would have to explain why his face was on Instagram.
I doubted it would go viral anyway. No one knew me, and he was definitely a nobody too. There had to be some sort of explanation for all the gold.
The door closed behind me and even though I thought I couldn't be surprised by anything, the water fountain in the middle of the luxury compound managed to leave me speechless.
I stared with my mouth open at the provocating image of the water pouring out of the woman's breasts, firm and round. I couldn't stop staring, captivated by the details in the art. How did it look so alluring yet despicable at the same time?
The shrill of my phone made me jump in fright. Sighing, I retrieved it from my pocket, coming face to face with a dozen calls and messages from no other person but Ethan.
He must have seen my Instagram post.
I clicked on one of the messages.
"Lyra, what on earth do you think you are doing? Answer my calls right this minute!" I could almost picture him screaming into his phone.
How cute…