Tainted Love

TAINTED LOVE

…A look passed between them, sending shivers through Tasha’s body. There was no denying the want there. It was crazy on so many levels. They hadn’t seen or heard from Quentin in five years. Surely catching up was a better idea than rushing into sex the instant they laid eyes on each other. But nothing had ever made real sense in their relationship— nothing, that is, but being together. She knew how much Mel had hungered for Quentin all these years; she had, too, despite their more than satisfying relationship. They’d quickly realized it wasn’t about having a third party in their beds—it was about having him there. No one but Quentin would do. The men’s gazes were locked, hands cupped over each other’s upper thigh. Erections swelled—Quentin’s somewhat confined by the jockeys she knew he wore; Mel’s down his leg, nearly peeking from the hem of his shorts leg. All Quentin would have to do was run his finger under the hem to feel the head. Or let his tongue hunt for him. Her pussy clenched at the thought, oozing thick juices into her panties. Nipples hardened within her bra, begging to be touched—by the men’s hands or hers, they didn’t care. Mel and Quentin brushed their fingers upward, and opened their thighs for the other’s touch. A silent gasp parted their lips when they reached testicles. Tasha pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and edged closer to the waterfall, where she’d have a good view of the

men and the trail behind them. Though she longed to join them, watching them heated her in ways she’d craved to experience again. Besides, they needed this moment to reconnect, and someone needed to be the lookout—if she could focus on doing so and not mirroring their actions…

ALSO BY C AITLYN WILLOWS All Four One Bad Seed Bend Me, Shape Me Body Double The Boys Are Back Bring Me To Life Caitlyn’s Kisses, Vol. I-III The Dating Pool Do Or Die Forbidden Fruit Graduation Day Gypsy Fire The Heir Her Bounty High Roller Hired Hand Hotel California I Am For You Inside Man Just Partners Laying Low

A Little D.A.B. Loose Ends Love Potion #9 Match To Flame My Salvation Never Too Late No Strings One To Grow On One Touch Our One True Love Playtime A Real Man Showtime The Star Series, Books I-V Teacher’s Pet Teamwork Thief Of Hearts Treasure Hunters Undercover Lover Warrior Princess White Lies

TAINTED LOVE BY CAITLYN WILLOWS

AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com

TAINTED LOVE AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2008 by Catherine Snodgrass ISBN 978-1-60272-212-5 Cover Art © 2008 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: Elemental Alchemy

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

TAINTED LOVE

Diversions Where the water diverts On a blue moon night, Forever you shall be Those lovers who unite.

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CHAPTER 1 Quentin Nash slowed his rental car at the top of the winding palmed canyon. Peace had sifted into his blood on the drive up. He’d turned off the air conditioning, rolled down the windows, and slowed his speed in order to hear the two creeks that paralleled both sides of the road. Nature’s music. Winter rains had filled the oasis above to overflowing and blessed the landscape with water, spawning a profusion of wildflowers in this desert canyon. Birdsong also reached him from the towering palm trees and dense vegetation. If a person was lucky enough, they might also spy a bighorn sheep in the area. Tourists crowded Palm Canyon Drive and every golf course, never realizing true wonder was in the mountain 2

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canyons that shadowed Palm Springs. He wanted to weep at the beauty of it. Or was it fear that made him teary-eyed? Quentin swallowed past the heavy lump in this throat as he stared at the resort ahead. Diversions was off the beaten path. Only a small sign off the main road pointed the way to it. If a person didn’t know to look, they might not have noticed that. It was very exclusive. Their only advertising, other than a website, an article the year before in Travel Temptations, and a hit song Mesquite had in honor of the place, was a tri-fold brochure that promised to indulge the visitor in every luxury and assured no request would be denied. He knew from past experience the place was booked in advance. He’d also been told there would always be room for him. Those words, given five years ago, had woven around him constantly since they’d first been uttered. At first, they were his safety net; lately, they were his lifeline. Now… He let the tears drift down his cheeks. Success was hollow without Tasha and Mel. He had all the money in the world and had never felt more lonely. Everyone wanted a piece of his body, his soul, his time. Managers, agents, co-workers, and fans all took what they needed, and Quentin got little to nothing in return…except for more money, more work, more demands. He was Reno and everyone wanted him…now. Tasha and Mel were the smart ones. They’d gotten out of the business years ago. Phoenix and Diego, Tasha’s and Mel’s personas in the group they’d called Three, had ceased to exist. They’d taken over the ownership of Diversions from Tasha’s 3

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parents, married, had each other. Quentin wondered if they’d missed him. If their invitation to stay was always open as they’d promised. Did they still look the same—Tasha with her waterfall of long, black hair; Mel with those ocean blue eyes that made you want to dive in? Did they crave him in the night as he did them? Did they curl into each other’s arms and miss the third body pressed to theirs? Had they replaced him in their hearts and lives? He didn’t think he could bear that, even though he’d tried that very thing over the last five years. Those attempts had left him as empty as everything else in his life. If they’d found another…if they rejected him… He smeared the tears from his face. Sitting here staring at the place wasn’t helping, and he knew he couldn’t turn around and leave. If for no other reason, Quentin needed the peace Diversions offered. He needed to heal his fractured soul. Pulling in a deep breath, he put the car in motion. The place reminded him of an old mission—white stucco, deep arches for windows and doors, red tiled roof. There was even a bell tower at the far edge of the red-cobblestone drive. The wide entrance circled around a statue of a couple caught in a coital embrace. It was the first of many statues scattered throughout the Eden-like grounds. A valet greeted him with a smile and a wave the instant Quentin’s car came into view. Quick on his heels was Charles, the head of Butler Services at Diversions. The man was a constant that made Quentin smile. It seemed the man never aged. He looked as tanned and fit as he had the first time 4

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Quentin had seen him fifteen years before. Charles’s obsidian gaze flickered with recognition. Quentin thought—hoped— they sparkled a little as well. The valet reached for the car door as soon as Quentin stopped. Quentin offered him a smile he didn’t feel. “A moment, please. I don’t exactly have a reservation.” Charles stepped forward. “Indeed you do, Mr. Nash. A standing reservation as per Mr. and Mrs. Keane’s instructions. There is always a place for you here.” More tears welled up. All Quentin could do was nod and relinquish the car to the valet, while a bellman darted forward to retrieve his luggage. Nothing in their actions gave away that they knew he was famed rock star Reno. His real name had always afforded him some anonymity…until his face was plastered all over television and magazines. Still, he’d gotten this far in his trip without incident. Maybe Diversions was already working its magic. Charles gave a slight bow. “This way, sir.” Quentin followed without hesitation. Through the Spanish tiled foyer lined with potted plants. Down the flagstone path that twisted through the lush garden. Past more statues of lovers caught in orgasmic bliss. And when they walked beyond the main conclave of suites, awareness of their final destination nearly brought Quentin to his knees, sobbing. How many times had he traveled this route with the two of them, all wrapped in each others’ arms? How many times had they tangled themselves in the sheets of the suite ahead, or bathed in the hot tub, soaped each other to heaven in the huge 5

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shower? Fed one another in the cloud-soft pile of cushions? Laughed, loved, planned a future that never came to be? They’d once had a great love, unusual by most people’s standards, but it worked well for them. Until he tainted it all with his greed and lust for more of something they already had plenty of—fame and fortune. The first sight of the stand-alone cabana stabbed a pain of longing through Quentin’s heart. It looked as fresh as the first time he’d seen it. The Jungle Hut…appropriately designed to look exactly like that on the outside. It had always been their room. The bellman trotted up the three steps to the deep-set porch and opened the door. Did Tasha and Mel know he was here? If not, Charles would let them know as soon as he saw Quentin settled. He paused at the bottom step, staring into the dark interior ahead. From the porch, Charles turned to look his way, his eyebrow lifted ever-so-slightly in question. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather go in alone,” Quentin somehow managed to say. “As you wish, sir.” The man stepped down to his level. “Please let us know if there is anything you need.” “Thank you.” Quentin barely heard the words over the emotion strangling him. Charles nodded and walked away. The bellman was seconds behind, not even pausing so Quentin could tip him. Heart pounding, he walked into the cabana and shut the door. Ambient light filtered to him from the corners, like the 6

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sun coming into a forest canyon. Deep greens and muted browns greeted him. Quentin closed his eyes and leaned into the door. He didn’t have to look to know the big bed was hidden behind a veil of faux vines and leaves. Or that the living area was a sunken bed of cushions with the hot tub tucked into a jungle grotto niche just beyond. A sliding glass door led to the private patio screened with bamboo. The bathroom contained a shower/tub combination made for love. He didn’t need to see to know it was all the same. He didn’t need the reminder of the love he’d tossed aside. And yet he needed the sanctuary it offered. He fell to his knees and sobbed.

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CHAPTER 2 “I’d like the step-down into the hot tub area more sloped. Like they’re walking onto a beach.” Mel nodded and sketched Tasha’s idea onto the rough design. He loved sitting side-by-side at the drafting table, brainstorming with her. Their latest concept—the Desert Island—had been born during their trip to Maui last week. They’d spent the flight back home scribbling thoughts on napkins, just like they used to do their songs, and enjoying it a hell of a lot more. “And let’s make the wall a mural of a tropical sunset,” he said. Tasha’s long hair tickled his forearm as she turned a smile 8

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his way. “I like that. But do we want to go with a blaze of reds, or a kiss of blues and pinks?” Mel drummed his pencil on the paper, studying her beautiful face while he thought it over. How could he concentrate on anything with her lips parted within inches of his? The light in her sapphire eyes stoked a fire deep in his gut. How was it possible to love her more with every day? He wanted to haul her astride his lap right now and… A throat clearing pulled their heads toward the door of their office. Even before Mel looked, he knew it was Charles. “Quentin Nash has just arrived,” the butler said quickly. Mel’s heart stopped. His brain shut down. It was Tasha who gasped a strangled, “What?” “I put him in the Jungle Hut as per your instructions.” “Are…are you sure?” A stupid question, but Mel couldn’t think. “Sorry…of course you’re sure.” “How…how does he look?” Tasha asked. Precious seconds ticked away while they waited for Charles to reply. Odd that the man who had answers for every situation had difficulty speaking now. “Lost,” he said finally. Tasha pressed her hand against her mouth to stifle a soft cry. Mel tightened his grip on the pencil. There was no sense trying to hide their emotions from Charles. They’d known the man too long for that. “Is anyone with him?” Mel set the pencil down before he broke it. “No. He came alone, and no one followed. He might need a few moments to regain his equilibrium before any reunion,” 9

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Charles advised. Quentin wasn’t the only one. Even though he and Tasha had held out hope Quentin would eventually come back to them, the fact he’d done so out of the blue after all this time was a shock. “Thanks, Charles.” “The staff is prepared to provide whatever he might need. Is there anything you can anticipate?” Tasha hauled in a breath and leaned back, hands clutched in her lap. “I’d like dinner on the patio for the three of us. Since I’m not sure what state he’s in, let’s forego the wine and have sun tea instead. Pasta primavera, salad with the oil and vinegar dressing, lemon sorbet for dessert. That should… Does he look as haggard in person as he does on TV and in the magazines?” Charles actually looked away, focusing on the far corner rather than on their faces. He’d known them when they were kids just starting out as the group Three and he was a new hire at Diversions. “Yes, Tasha, though not as thin, thank God. He looks like…” He pulled in a breath and looked at them once more. “He looks like he’s been to hell and back.” That’s what the music industry did to people—ate them up and spit them out. Paparazzi annihilated whatever was left. And the fans, adoring as they were, didn’t understand boundaries. Mel and Tasha knew that all too well. At the height of their success, they’d heard someone higher up the ladder say they’d given up everything to be where they were. Mel and Tasha decided then to get out while they could. The life, the fame, and the continued fortune weren’t worth 10

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sacrificing everything else. They’d had enough. Quentin had disagreed. The shouting, tears, and the subsequent split haunted Mel and Tasha to this day. Yet, in the end, if they loved him—and they desperately did—they’d had no choice but to let him go. And to offer him a place with them should he ever need or want it. Quentin hadn’t taken them up on their offer…until today. “I honestly can’t say if he needs to be wrapped in love, or approached with caution.” Charles added a small laugh. “But the impulse to hug him was hard to fight.” “I guess all we can do is play it by ear.” Tasha wrapped her hand over Mel’s thigh. He covered it with his own and squeezed. Charles nodded and left them alone. “I can’t believe it.” Mel pulled Tasha onto his lap and into his arms. They were both shaking. “My heart is pounding a mile a minute.” Quivering fingers cupped his face. Her eyes swam with tears. Mel’s did, too. He wanted to ask what Quentin’s coming here meant. He wanted to run to the room as fast as he could and hug Quentin so tight he’d never leave. But there was anger as well. It’d been five years without so much as a card, much less a phone call or email. The damage it had done to Mel’s and Tasha’s hearts widened the hole Quentin’s departure had created. Though they wanted him back more than words could say, neither of them wanted their hearts trampled on again, or the love that still existed thrown back in their faces, or to do something that would chase him away 11

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once more. “I don’t want to rush him,” Tasha was saying. “But I also don’t want any more distance between us. There’s been too much already.” “Sweetheart…it’s been five years.” He rubbed circles on her lower back. “And we told him there would always be a place here for him in our hearts, our lives…our bed.” Yes…in bed. The three of them tangled in the sheets, loving in ways the world might frown upon. There was a time when they were naïve enough to believe nothing could come between them. They were wrong…so wrong. “We don’t know what he’s been through.” Tasha cocked her head to on side, her look rightfully contradicting him. “Okay…we know what he’s been through, but we don’t know what he’s become because of it. He could be using, he could be an alcoholic…” “And if that’s the case, then he’s come here for help getting through it.” She pressed her forehead against his, her lips so close Mel couldn’t resist kissing them. He felt her soul surround him as he did so, calming him, reminding they were in this together as they were in everything else they’d ever done—thousands of emotions in this simple press of lips. Few things on earth were more sensual, and despite the events to come—or perhaps because of them—Mel felt his penis stir. Tasha sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. He loved 12

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these quiet moments when they sat with arms draped around each other. Peace always surrounded him then—them against the world, replenishing their energies, reaffirming their love. Mel felt sorry for Quentin that he’d missed out on this all these years. Who had he turned to when things got tough? It had always made him sad to think of Quentin all alone, even if it had been by his own choice. How long had it taken before Quentin had realized what he’d left behind? Five years? Or had reality slammed into him sooner and he’d been too proud or afraid or unsure of his reception to return? “I can’t wait another second.” He braced his hands on Tasha’s hips and eased her away. She swung from his lap, laced her fingers through his, and tugged him to his feet. “Then let’s go.” Mel didn’t hesitate and swung open the door a mere second before Tasha was ready to walk through it. He prayed no guests stopped them along the way. They were dressed in the Diversions “uniform” of khaki shorts and mauve golf shirts with the logo on the pocket, easily spotted should anyone have a question. And because of those guests, he and Tasha kept their pace unhurried. Rushing down the path like they wanted to would only alarm people who sought the serenity of the resort. He scanned the garden just in case, ready to stop at a moment’s notice, even if he really didn’t want to do so. Then Tasha came to an abrupt stop. Frowning, he glanced at her, wondering what was wrong. She stared ahead, shoulders shaking with each measured breath. He followed the direction 13

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of her gaze and felt the ground quake. Quentin had met them halfway. They stared at each other, Quentin’s gaze sweeping over both of them, while Mel and Tasha soaked in the view of the man they loved and had lost. He looked better than Mel had anticipated. Thin, but not gaunt as he’d feared. If anything, the five years had made him better looking, more toned. His blue jeans and chocolate brown T-shirt accentuated his muscled lines, but not overly so. His light brown hair was neatly trimmed, yet still full. But the toll the years had taken was clear in the depths of his golden brown eyes, eyes red-rimmed from recently shed tears. As if by unspoken command, they moved toward one another. Slow and steady, like they were all unsure of what to do next, like they were afraid to do too much or too little. And then they were in each other’s arms, wrapped tight against the world…and Mel felt whole once more.

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CHAPTER 3 Tasha closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of them. God, how she’d missed this. Not that she didn’t love Mel. And she never once regretted they’d gotten married. But having Quentin with them again made it feel like a lost part of her had been found. They stood in their circle of love, absorbing the energy it created. This was how they’d ended every concert on stage. Telling the world with actions what they dared not say aloud—they weren’t a couple. They were a trio. They were Three. It became their public trademark, earning wild cheers every time they did it. And it was their private bond against the world crushing in upon them more and more the farther in they were pulled. 15

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She honestly didn’t know how Quentin could have managed all this time on his own. He was obviously made of stronger stuff than she and Mel. Or was he? After the first take-your-breath-away look at him, Tasha could see exhaustion haunted his beautiful brown eyes. He clung to them now like a drowning man to a life raft. He buried his head between theirs, arms tight around them, like he never wanted to let go. Tasha knew the feeling well. “I’m sorry,” he said softly and rubbed his cheek against each of theirs. Gone was the five-o’clock shadow he wore for his Reno persona, but the rasp of new growth was just below the surface. She remembered the feel of it scuffing her thighs while his mouth worked her pussy and Mel’s mouth worked him. “You were both right,” he said. “I should’ve listened. They’re eating me alive.” There would be no I told you so from them, no What took you so long. The only thing that mattered was he was here. “I’ve missed you both so much.” She felt Mel’s hold tighten around Quentin, as hers did. “We’ve missed you, too,” he said. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Quentin chuckled. “I’m a sight all right. Probably nothing some decent sleep wouldn’t cure. You two look great.” They set each other at arm’s length, but didn’t break their hold. Quentin’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. So did Mel’s. Tasha just let hers fall. Quentin caught a drop on his 16

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thumb and brought it to his lips. Her body tightened as he sucked it off. “Tasha’s tears. Like a kiss of the ocean.” One of Three’s first hit songs—“Tasha’s Tears.” They’d made a fortune off it. Royalties were still coming in. Quentin cupped her cheek. His smile warmed her heart, then turned Mel’s way. There was no hesitation. He slipped his arm around Mel and kissed him—slow and sweet, just as they’d kissed minutes before. A sigh pulled them apart. “I’ve been such a fool,” Quentin said. “I knew from the start I’d made a mistake, but by then, I’d been sucked in so far…” He gave a sad laugh. “Pride kept me away, then fear. I ran into the Tristan brothers last month. They mentioned seeing you, staying here.” The Tristan brothers…Mesquite. The song they’d written about Diversions was soaring to the top of the charts. “I remember when they used to open for us,” Mel said with a laugh. “Now look at them.” “Yeah, we talked about those days. They seem to be handling success better than I am, but then they do have each other to lean on. Anyway, they said you guys looked amazing. They weren’t lying. You both…glow.” He playfully ruffled Mel’s short hair, then grabbed his head and hugged him tight. “Guys”—she gave them a playful nudge—“you’re gonna have me bawling any second now. Tasha’s tears are one thing, Tasha’s sobbing torrents quite another.” That had them all laughing. 17

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“Come on. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” Mel clapped Quentin on the shoulder. “I hardly know where to start.” “That’s easy.” A genuine smile lit his troubled eyes. “The oasis. I need its magic”—he tapped the center of his chest— “here.” Tasha understood how he felt. A tall waterfall fell through the rocks, pooling below before shooting down the canyon in two creeks paralleling the road. It was a mystical place of healing, filled with serenity and magic. Rarely a day went by without her and Mel walking to it. “Great. We’ll run back to the office and grab some water.” Mel waved his arm forward and they fell in step beside each other. The years apart dropped away with every footstep, like they’d never been apart. But they kept to safe subjects— Diversions, their trip to Maui, family talk—never mentioning Quentin’s alter ego Reno. Carrying two liters of water each in insulated sling pouches, they started up the trail to the oasis. Though the walk wasn’t long, it never hurt to be too safety conscious. Conversation stopped as nature surrounded them. Vegetation shaded the dirt path. Palm trees towered overhead. Birds sang with the creeks tumbling along their rock-strewn cradles. Tasha wondered if the men were remembering past trips, times when they’d been spry enough to run up the trail. Of how they slipped naked into the oasis pool, uncaring of who 18

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might see. Of that full moon night they became one for the first time. Memories somersaulted through her, taking her breath, and reminding her of how wonderful it had been. Before she realized it they were at the head of the trail, standing in the spray of the waterfall. She lifted her face to catch more of the mist, watching hummingbirds dart up to the falls for a drink. The scene energized her spirit, making her want to seize the moment. Decorum made her a tad more cautious. She and Mel had a business to run and a reputation to uphold. But tonight in the privacy of four walls… “Boy! I don’t remember the water being this cold.” Quentin sat on a large slab of rock, bare feet dangling in the water. His shoes and socks were behind him. Mel laughed and joined him, peeling off footwear as he did so. “I know. It’s a wonder our balls didn’t crawl up our asses.” “Guess we were too hot and horny to know the difference.” A look passed between them, sending shivers through Tasha’s body. There was no denying the want there. It was crazy on so many levels. They hadn’t seen or heard from Quentin in five years. Surely catching up was a better idea than rushing into sex the instant they laid eyes on each other. But nothing had ever made real sense in their relationship— nothing, that is, but being together. She knew how much Mel had hungered for Quentin all these years; she had, too, despite their more than satisfying relationship. They’d quickly realized it wasn’t about having a third party in their beds—it was about having him there. No one but Quentin would do. 19

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The men’s gazes were locked, hands cupped over each other’s upper thigh. Erections swelled—Quentin’s somewhat confined by the jockeys she knew he wore; Mel’s down his leg, nearly peeking from the hem of his shorts leg. All Quentin would have to do was run his finger under the hem to feel the head. Or let his tongue hunt for him. Her pussy clenched at the thought, oozing thick juices into her panties. Nipples hardened within her bra, begging to be touched—by the men’s hands or hers, they didn’t care. Mel and Quentin brushed their fingers upward, and opened their thighs for the other’s touch. A silent gasp parted their lips when they reached testicles. Tasha pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and edged closer to the waterfall, where she’d have a good view of the men and the trail behind them. Though she longed to join them, watching them heated her in ways she’d craved to experience again. Besides, they needed this moment to reconnect, and someone needed to be the lookout—if she could focus on doing so and not mirroring their actions. Even as she cautioned herself to be diligent, Tasha unzipped her shorts and burrowed her fingers into her damp slit. She remembered how it felt to have Mel’s tongue on her clit while Quentin fucked her ass. How he’d bring her to orgasm, then feather his tongue down to Quentin’s balls and make him come, too. Her breath caught at the memory. She squeezed her breast through shirt and bra, kneading the flesh until she could feel her nipple hard in the center of her palm. They hadn’t noticed her yet because they were too focused 20

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on each other. Mel cupped Quentin’s sac through his jeans and rubbed his thumb over the base of Quentin’s cock. Quentin fumbled for his zipper with one hand, while the other stroked the ridge of erection straining Mel’s shorts. Tasha licked her lips, wanting a taste of it, of both of them. Wanting to feel the weight of their bodies as Quentin fucked her and Mel fucked him. She measured each tooth of their zippers as they were eased down. Her knees trembled at the first sight of those glorious cocks released. Tasha braced against the rock wall behind her and flashed her fingers over her clit. In her mind she could smell their musk, taste the salty pre-cum she knew had already collected at the tips of their penises, feel the heat as they wrapped their fists around each other’s cock and squeezed. Tongues twined together—an imitation of what they’d do if their mouths were lower. More juices flooded her crotch. She’d love to see them go down on each other. The way their full lips slipped over the crowns, their tongues flashed over the lengths. Everything she knew about blow jobs, she’d learned from watching them. These were men who knew how to take their time with lovers…lucky her. But the years apart added an urgency to their mating, one Tasha could definitely appreciate. They stroked each other without preamble, going at it like sixteen-year-olds having a jerk-off race. Hands flew over cocks, even as hers sped over her clitoris. She held on, waiting for them, wanting to come together, even though they hadn’t realized she was watching, 21

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masturbating with them. A flash of color far down the trail jerked her attention that way. Not now. The risk they’d all be caught only added to the fire in her blood. The men broke off their kiss. Mel’s gaze sliced in that direction, but their hands never slowed. Hard breaths joined the thrust of their hips into each other’s strokes. Their free hands gripped their stomachs, fingers flexing frantically…just as hers now did. Oh, God, we’re going to get caught. The caution fueled the fire. Tasha forced her eyes to stay open, though she wanted to close them in ecstasy. The men’s jaws were clenched, teeth bared against the impending explosion. Then those heated gazes shifted her way. Cocks pointed in her direction, a final hand-jerk downward sent jism arcing over the water. The sight, the rapture in their faces, pushed her orgasm over the edge. Voices shattered the afterglow. She scrambled to zip her shorts, then smiled up at Mel when she saw him and Quentin doing the same. Each gave her a wink and patted the rock, indicating she should join them. Tasha didn’t hesitate.

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CHAPTER 4 Sitting on the rock between Tasha and Mel, Quentin felt like he could take on whatever the world threw his way. Sheltered, at peace, happy. All things he hadn’t felt since he’d walked away five years before. They dangled their bare feet in the water, basking in the sun, content after orgasm, and watching the latest guests play hopscotch on the mossslickened rocks. He wanted to say it felt like old times, except it felt more comfortable than that. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you both so much—” “The only thing keeping you away was you. God, Quent…five years without a word.” Leave it to Mel to cut to the chase. 23

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“I know.” Quentin had no logical excuse. All his fears of rejection, of being hated by them, were washed away the second he’d seen acceptance in their eyes. Of course, that didn’t mean the hurt wasn’t there. They’d told him he’d always have a place here, always have their unconditional love. But five years apart could have tainted that as well. What an idiot he’d been. “Why now?” Mel asked. “We’re not part of some twelvestep program are we?” Yep, right to the chase. It was almost funny how predictable Mel was, but it was more endearing. Quentin turned to look at him. Mel had the prettiest eyes—dark blue with long coal kissed lashes. Right now those eyes were boring a hole through his soul. If Quentin was lying—and he wasn’t—Mel would spot it in an instant. “Would it matter if I was?” he asked in return. Mel shook his head. His gaze never wavered. “No. Tasha and I would just want to know what we were dealing with, how we could help you. We told you before…we don’t place conditions on our love. That hasn’t changed.” Quentin closed his eyes against a rush of tears. Once he was certain he had some measure of control, he opened them again. “No twelve-step program,” Quentin replied quietly. “I never used, was never tempted to do so. We saw what it did to people our first time around. I had enough to worry about without letting my guard down. Quit drinking, too, because I didn’t want the alcohol screwing with my voice. Even had it 24

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written into my contract there’s to be no smoking around me.” “Smart move.” Mel nodded his agreement. “Your major asset is your voice. You’ve got to protect it.” “My major assets were you and Tasha. Obviously, I was too stupid to realize it at the time.” Tasha curled her fingers around his and gave them a squeeze. There wasn’t too much response Mel could make with other people around. Still, the heat of Mel’s thigh pressed next to Quentin’s was a major comfort. “So…how long can you stay?” “And please tell us this is the first of many visits,” Tasha added. “I think it’s time I quit.” It was the first time he’d admitted it out loud. It didn’t feel as good as he’d thought it would. “Why?” Tasha cocked her head his way, waiting for his answer. Where did he begin? “It’s too much. The pressure, the cutthroat tactics, people always waiting to take a chunk out of me, no one I can trust.” “When’s the last time you took a vacation?” Mel asked. The question surprised Quentin, but not nearly as much as his answer. “Not since before I started out on my own.” “Then you’re definitely long overdue for one. No time like the present to see you get one.” Mel grabbed his shoes and socks as he pulled his feet from the water. “And there’s no better place than at Diversions.” Quentin laughed. “You sound like the beginning of an ad. ‘Enjoy the pristine beauty of our oasis. Allow Diversions to 25

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indulge you in every luxury. No request denied. Five-star meals in the privacy of your own suite. Sleep the day away— ’” “Who said we’re going to let you sleep?” Mel grinned and gave him a wink. Coupled with the press of Tasha’s breasts against his arm and her breath tickling his ear, those words had a devastating effect on his senses. His cock swelled like someone had opened the floodgates. “Looks like someone needs a cold shower.” Tasha’s husky tone added to his growing dilemma. Goose bumps followed in the wake of the fingernails she ran down his back. “Or a hot body.” Mel’s low voice at his other side had Quentin smothering a groan. “How am I supposed to walk back to my room with a tent pole in my jeans?” “Very carefully,” Mel replied. “And with great…anticipation.” Tasha flicked her tongue over his earlobe. Quentin’s white-knuckled grip on the rock was the only thing keeping him from toppling into the water. Why-oh-why did other people have to show up? He’d love to have Tasha’s nimble fingers release his cock, her lips engulf it, while Mel probed his ass. Better yet was the thought of being skin to skin, surrounded by their warmth. “Then what are we waiting for?” He scrambled to his feet, then gave Tasha a hand up and clapped an arm around Mel’s shoulders. “Feels good. Three…together again.” 26

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“Shh.” Tasha giggled. “That’s how rumors get started.” “Would it be such a bad thing?” he asked. He wouldn’t be alone then. “For us, yes,” Mel replied. His watch alarm beeped. Mel barely glanced down as he turned it off. “Tasha and I have a meeting with the architect. He’ll be here in a little while. Join us. Come see our world and see if you don’t agree we made the right choice in leaving music behind.” They stepped away from him and toward the trail. Quentin felt cut adrift once more, lost and alone. Then Tasha looked his way and extended her hand. “We promise it will help you make your own decision easier. Have we ever lied to you?” she added with a smile. Quentin gave them a half-hearted chuckle. “No, you never have.” And he didn’t realize how much he was counting on that until now. He slipped his fingers in hers and followed.

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CHAPTER 5 Quentin had to admit he was beyond impressed with…well, everything. He also had to admit to being embarrassed with his own self-absorption. Those years Three had spent touring, he’d been so focused on his music and his career, he’d failed to see that his partners were reaching beyond for the future they wanted. He was ashamed now he hadn’t realized the long hours the two had put in behind closed doors wasn’t because they were having sex or writing songs. They were working toward business degrees every spare second they had. Watching them work head to head with the architect, then in the daily operations, Quentin saw a joy and confidence he’d 28

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never seen before. How could he have been so blind? Quentin admired the sketch on Mel’s drafting board for what had to be the hundredth time. Now this was some talent. Mel had also designed the Diversions logo—an oasis with a stream coming out from each side. “How long before the new suite will be ready?” God, he couldn’t take his eyes off the drawing. He felt so insignificant next to Tasha and Mel, as if he’d wasted his life. It seemed lately he’d been doing a very good job of feeling sorry for himself. “About six months, give or take.” Tasha cleared away the glasses of raspberry tea. “We work around our guests and do our best to ensure they aren’t disrupted. And it sometimes takes a while to get things exactly how we want them.” “Once construction is complete, we have a testing period.” Mel locked his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “Tasha and I spend a couple of days there, then we have friends of ours do the same. After that we compare notes and tweak things if necessary. Guests never stay in a new suite until we’re satisfied it will give them the complete experience they are looking for.” “How can you be sure of what that is?” Quentin’s chair creaked as he pulled back to look at them. Tasha braced her hip against the drafting table. “Sometimes even the guest doesn’t know. We have a questionnaire for them to complete. Then one or both of us will speak with them to work out the details.” It sounded great, but… “What if the person doesn’t know 29

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what they want to experience?” Tasha bathed him in ethereal smile. “Mel and I have been blessed with an instinct about these things. We like to think the oasis has guided us.” He wanted to say that was the biggest bunch of bullshit he’d ever heard, but the look on her face, the glow seeming to engulf both of them made him wonder. Plus, hadn’t he felt the magic before? Hadn’t he needed it today? But what, if anything, could this place do for a burned-out singer? You want but you don’t see Look away and there I’ll be He scrambled to find a scrap of paper to write the lyrics on. Tasha handed him a pad and pen without blinking an eye. Awestruck, he slipped them from her fingers while Mesquite’s Diversions song drifted through his head. Magic in the air tonight Always together, lovers unite Quentin had heard them a thousand times. Right now he actually felt them. “And what do I need?” He expected them to wrap him in a smothering embrace, shield him from the world. Neither moved. “What do you want?” Tasha asked, her voice soft. “I want you both back.” Quentin was surprised he was able to answer so quickly and calmly when days before that very 30

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thought would bring him sobbing to his knees. “You’ve never lost us. We’ve always been right here, waiting with open hearts and loving arms.” Mel’s deep tone wove around him. It seemed it was he who had gotten lost—wrapped up in guilt, fear, and loneliness. He stared at the logo on their shirts—the two streams diverging from a single point. The perfect parallel to the paths they’d taken, both of which had been immensely successful. So…now what happens? “I think we have time for a leisurely shower before dinner arrives.” Tasha pushed away from the table. Quentin couldn’t help wondering if she’d read his mind. “Anyone up for it?” Devilment glimmered in her deep blue eyes. Mel shoved to his feet. “If we’re not, I’m sure you can help us get up.” He added a playful smack to her ass. The sound shot Quentin’s cock to attention. Mel’s long fingers wrapped over the door knob. Quentin envisioned them around his erection, stroking, while Quentin’s tongue roamed Tasha’s pussy. A taste of heaven Built for sin She opens the gates And beckons me in “Oooh…that’s good.” He scribbled the lyrics down with 31

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all the others that had drifted into his mind. With each word he wrote, more poured in, until his hand was flying across the paper, flipping pages, and writing more. By the time Quentin pulled his head up, they were standing in the Jungle Hut, and he’d never realized they’d started walking in that direction. “And you say you want to quit.” Tasha’s lips were on his a second later, her now-naked body draped around his. A glance up revealed Mel was nude as well, and gloriously erect. Sometime during his haze of creativity, they’d stripped. Mel smiled and stroked his swollen cock. Pre-cum glistened at the slit on top of the deep red crown. Quentin longed to lick it off, to kneel at Mel’s feet and fondle his sac while Mel combed his fingers through Quentin’s hair. Quentin caught Tasha with one arm, holding her tight as his tongue mated with hers. The pad and pen dropped to the sofa and he cupped her butt with his free hand. Tasha rubbed her stomach over his erection, one long leg curling over his calf to give them both more friction. He ground his cock into her pelvis and damned the material keeping him from feeling his skin against hers. Tasha broke the kiss on a gasp and arched back and into Mel’s arms. The minute Mel’s mouth covered hers, Quentin lifted her legs. They carried her to the pile of pillows in the living area and placed her in the center. She sighed and deepened the kiss, while Quentin fumbled for his zipper. His hands shook from the effort to take his time. It didn’t help that Mel was tugging at her dusky brown nipples, pulling until them were hard, long and begging for someone’s lips. 32

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Quentin’s brain shut down and lust took control. He yanked off his clothes like they were on fire, then froze in wonder when Mel straddled Tasha’s head. Quentin’s catch of breath mirrored Mel’s when Tasha feathered her fingers up his thighs. His balls tightened when her hand cupped Mel’s sac. His dick throbbed for the touch of her thumb at the base. Small bowls of condoms were scattered throughout the room, no more than a reach away. Yet Quentin was too paralyzed with want to move. Every beat of his pulse pumped more pre-cum forward. Then Mel leaned toward him and Tasha’s lips closed over Mel’s cock. Quentin groaned, too, and palmed his erection, holding it steady for that hot mouth closing in. A flash of Mel’s tongue licked the slit clean. Quentin’s knees quivered. His balls felt like rocks. Tasha lifted her foot, dancing it up his thigh until she could tickle his testicles. Then she wiggled her toes to the base of his penis, wrapped it between her toes and stroked. He tossed back a hard groan and wedged his knee into her wet crotch. One hand cupped Mel’s head, holding it in place while Quentin thrust slowly into his mouth. Tasha clamped her thighs around his and rode his knee. The scent of her wafted to his nose and Quentin craved a taste of her…now. The instant he thought that, Mel pulled away and eased to his side. Tasha rolled with him, mouth never leaving Mel’s cock. Quentin stretched out beside them, offering his dick to Mel once more as his lips wandered up Tasha’s thigh to her waiting pussy. He burrowed his face between the smooth lips as Mel sucked his cock deep. A trio of moans rumbled through 33

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them. It was as great as Quentin remembered—the heat, the smells, the velvet touch…everywhere. He tunneled his tongue as far as he could into her cunt and rubbed his nose over her clit. It wasn’t enough. It never had been. Quentin yanked his head up, eyes rolled back, when he felt Mel suckle his balls. He rolled one, then the other under his tongue, then traced the divide between before Mel rimmed his ass. “No one,” he cried out. “Never anyone but you two.” Mel groaned in response and thrust his finger into Quentin’s anus. A hard suck into Mel’s mouth yanked his orgasm to the forefront. A hand squeeze at the base of his penis kept it hovering. Quentin growled and dove into Tasha’s pussy. God only knew what she was doing to Mel right now. Quentin couldn’t think beyond the feel of them to look, and if he did, nothing would have kept him from coming. He traced the valleys of her labia over and over, building her up until he could feel the fire in her clit. He thrust one finger into her heat, probed another lower so she would feel what they felt. Then he pulled her clitoris between his lips and whipped his tongue over it. Tension made them one, shaking them with the force of their release. Tasha’s juices flooded Quentin’s mouth, the perfect equivalent of the semen he spurted into Mel’s. Blood roared in his ears, muffling their groans. One by one, they fluttered down to earth, releasing their hold on one another as 34

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they collapsed into each other’s arms. “Mmm…” Tasha stretched and dropped her hand to their limp penises. “I could really use that shower now, but I’m not sure if I have the energy to stand.” Mel nuzzled her below her ear. “There’s always the hot tub…or Quent and I can find some unique way to prop you up in the shower.” Tasha’s bright laughter filled the room. Quentin didn’t realize how much he’d missed hearing it until now. It seemed to have disappeared long before they’d gone their separate ways. She’d cry before a concert, then cry after it. They’d end every concert with “Tasha’s Tears.” Tasha’s tears Light my way When I am lost And full of fear The end of the tunnel Is perfectly clear The darkness fades With Tasha’s tears Then she’d cry and they’d do their circle hug. The fans went crazy. Tasha would cling to Mel and Quentin, fingers clutching them like a lifeline. “Oh, my God…” Quentin hoisted himself to one elbow. “I feel like such a dunce. ‘Tasha’s Tears’ isn’t a love song. It’s a song of hope for both of you. You’re saying she helps you stay 35

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on target. You’re telling her to hang in there and it’ll be all right. That you are just as scared and unsure as she is.” “Yes,” they replied together. Tasha brushed her hand up his arm to his shoulder and drew him down between them. Quentin nestled his head on the pillow of her breasts as Mel curled his body around him. “She was so sad and miserable,” Mel said. “I was scared of making a mistake. The money was great, but at what cost? The song was my promise to Tasha and my thanks as well. It helped us both through the darkest moment of our lives.” And now he’d come to them in his darkest moment. Nothing felt more right. Like he’d been guided by an unknown force, or the bond they’d always shared, or maybe even the memory of Tasha’s tears. They lay entwined, Quentin idly toying with Tasha’s nipple while Mel fingered Quentin’s. With the first nudge of Mel’s cock rising against Quentin’s back, Quentin’s penis awoke. Tasha gave it a long stroke, then rolled to her feet and crooked her finger for the men to follow her to the bathroom. “She always did have the sweetest-looking ass,” he said on a feigned groan. Mel grinned. “An enticing one, too.” Neither of them wasted any time following. Tasha met them at the cavern-like shower stall. All four shower heads were on. Steam filled the room like a jungle mist. Drops of water clung to her skin, then trickled slowly down, mesmerizing in their descent. Soapsuds spilled from her hands. Smiling, she took a step backward, inviting them in 36

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with a smile and the promise of pleasure dancing in her eyes. The instant they stepped inside, she lathered their chests, swirling suds around the sparse hair, flicking until their nipples were taut. Quentin tried to keep his eyes open and locked on the wonder on Mel’s face, but it was Tasha and those wandering fingers made it impossible. She skidded down, working around his upthrust cock, yet never touching where he needed. His gasp matched Mel’s groan. Then the little witch delved lower, right between their legs. Quentin caught Mel’s shoulders when Tasha squeezed his balls. Mel’s mouth was agape, jaw working with his wordless grunts. He grabbed Quentin’s waist, fingers clenching for dear life—a feeling Quentin knew all too well. They pressed closer as Tasha moved past their hips and around to their asses. Quentin jerked at the feel of hot cock rubbing his. How could he have forgotten how delicious this felt? Together they stood with legs astride as Tasha wandered down their cracks and right back to their balls, kneading gently as she probed their rectums with her thumbs. “God, baby, do it.” Mel dug his fingers into Quentin’s buttocks, hauling him as close as they could get. Quentin clamped his hands on Mel’s ass and welded their mouths together. Their tongues thrashed in a mating frenzy, hips pumping their cocks wildly into each other. Then Tasha sank her thumbs beyond their anal rings. Their lips froze, hands quivering from the sensation of her finger-fucking them. Mel’s cock throbbed against Quentin’s, and Quentin knew Mel wanted to come as badly as he did. 37

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Tasha slithered up their bodies, scoring flesh with her hard nipples. “You both look so hot standing here all wrapped in each other’s arms. I think we need a new statue at Diversions in honor of such…” She sucked in a breath. “God, beauty doesn’t even describe the vision.” She brushed her hands up their backs, over their shoulders, and down their chests. “And we’d have to make sure these magnificent works of art were fully on display.” She wrapped her hands around their cocks, holding them as one, and stroked. Quentin’s body trembled. He closed his eyes and thrust his hips forward. His dick moved in time with Mel’s, pumping faster with every stroke of Tasha’s talented hands. “Feel good?” her voice purred. Mel’s response was a garbled moan. It was more than Quentin could manage. “You both look so damn hot,” she said. “I wish I could feel you both inside my pussy at the same time. Fucking me to one orgasm after…” A fountain of cum shot out of Quentin with little warning. He heard guttural cries—his and Mel’s—as their jism spurted and mingled. They fell into each other’s arms and eased onto the shower floor. Hard breaths overshadowed the running water. Tasha’s moan pulled Quentin’s head from the fog. She lay sprawled against the wall, hand parked on her pussy, body sagging from her own orgasm. “Now that deserves a statue,” Mel said with a smile. Quentin managed a nod. “I couldn’t agree more.” 38

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CHAPTER 6 Mel let the last spoonful of lemon sorbet melt in his mouth. This was his favorite part of the day—when the sun was starting to set and the birds began roosting in the palm trees for the night. He loved the wash of colors in the mountains, too—purples and pinks. Normally he and Tasha would hike to the oasis before sunset—their way of reconnecting with the mysticism of the place. But they’d done that earlier, reconnecting in a different way. He supposed that’s when he’d realized there was more behind Quentin’s sudden visit than even Quentin knew. Their friend needed help and the oasis had called him to them. Mel knew he had to let his and Tasha’s instincts take it from there. 39

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So far those instincts had never failed them. But there was much more invested this time. This wasn’t a random guest. This was Quentin. The meal was great, as he knew it would be. It had “magically” appeared, thanks to Charles and his staff, and the remains would also be surreptitiously removed once he, Tasha, and Quentin went inside. They sat on the patio of the Jungle Hut dressed only in the terra cotta-colored Diversions robes, talking like they’d never been parted. He sensed the time was right. A glance from Tasha seemed to confirm it. “Let’s go sit in the hot tub for a while.” Mel scooted his chair back, then reached to help Tasha with hers. She quickly secured her long hair on top of her head with a twist of her wrist and a barrette she’d had in her pocket. Quentin was on his feet a half-second later. The man was definitely more relaxed than he’d been when he arrived. Mel could make any number of guesses as to why, but none of them mattered. In any event, Quentin still had decisions to make—calm, rational decisions. And Mel knew it was up to him and Tasha to help Quentin do so. In the privacy of their room, they dropped their robes and stepped into the bubbly warmth. Like the rest of the room, this sunken area was designed to resemble a pool one might find in the rainforest. For those who wanted a more full experience, a sound track could play jungle sounds. Diversions went all out to give their guests all they needed. It was a weighty responsibility, carefully balanced with discretion. They sighed and eased into the built-in seats, draping their 40

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legs over each other’s. “This place was wonderful before, but I have to say the two of you have made it better,” Quentin said. Tasha smiled. “Thank you. You know my parents loved Diversions, but they were ready for a break and knew it would be in good hands with us. So we bought it from them.” “They were right. I’m in awe of what you’ve done, what you have planned. So where are you living? Or do you spend all your time here?” They chuckled. “The hours do fly by while we’re here,” Mel freely admitted. “We make sure we have a change of clothes with us just in case, but we have a house about ten minutes from here. We bought it when we got married.” “And you won’t find a single musical instrument in it,” Tasha added. Quentin’s eyes widened. “Really? Wow…I don’t think I could stand that.” It was the opening they’d been waiting for. “It’s good you know that about yourself,” Mel said. “Think about it, Quentin. Can you quit? Can you stop being Reno?” Quentin gave a small laugh and closed his eyes as he leaned his head back. “No one was more surprised than I was earlier when I said I wanted to quit. One part of me hates the demands, the little pieces of my soul everyone takes. And yet…” Tasha scooted closer to him, brushing her fingers over Quentin’s shoulder. “And yet the thrill of the music, the roar of the crowd…” 41

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“It’s a huge rush,” Mel said. “Instant gratification when you get on the stage.” “It’s addictive and frightening at the same time,” Tasha added. “And it’s part of you in a way that was never true for us. Oh, we thought we wanted it at the time, but once we hit big time we knew it wasn’t for us.” “We heard someone from another band say, ‘When we go up on stage, know we gave up everything to be here, even each other.’” The words chilled Mel to this day. “It wasn’t a price Tasha and I were willing to pay. All the money in the world wasn’t worth losing each other. So we squirreled away the money flowing toward us and used it for a new future.” Quentin snickered. “And I turned my nose up at what you were doing. God, if I knew then…” Mel nudged Quentin’s knee with his own. “You would have done the same, except you wouldn’t have shut yourself away from us. Music is who you are, Quent. You can’t go a day without jotting down a new song or tune. Your soul would wither without it. Don’t screw yourself by letting everything you’ve worked for, everything you love go. You just have to find a way to manage the crap that goes with it, and there’s always going to be crap.” Quentin squeezed his eyes shut. A tear slipped from beneath one lid. “It’s just so damn lonely.” “Well, you did that to yourself.” Tasha tapped him on the nose, earning her his laugh. Mel pushed at his knee again. “And hopefully you learned the error of those ways.” 42

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Quentin looked from one to the other. “Most definitely. Can’t believe I was so—” She cut off his words with a finger against his lips. “Just remember, you’re never alone as long as Mel and I are in this world.” “I swear I’ll never think otherwise.” His gaze went blank the second the words left his mouth. Mel knew that look well—Quentin had a song working in his head. “You’ll find paper and pens on all the tables.” “Thanks.” Quentin hoisted himself from the hot tub in a tidal wave of water. He snagged his robe and blotted dry as he strode to the nearest table. “Let’s see if we can’t give him some incentive.” Tasha stood in what looked like slow motion. Water sluiced down her body like silk. Her areoles were puckered and hard. Tasha flicked her fingers over them, ostensibly to wipe them dry. But Mel knew better. She was a wanton exhibitionist when the mood struck her. “Give us a show, baby,” he murmured. Tasha closed her eyes on a sound that was part groan, part sigh. She arched her back and circled her fingers around her breasts. Mel wrapped his hands around the lip of the tub, letting the bubbling water jog his erection to and fro. After another sigh she stepped from the water and bent over to pick up her robe, making sure Mel and Quentin—if he was watching…and how could he not?—got a good view of her pussy. Tasha took her time, dabbing water from one leg and then the other. Then she raked the terry robe up to her 43

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crotch, parted her thighs, and rubbed it against her pussy. Sighs turned to moans as she worked the material over her clit. Mel’s cock screamed for a peek. Mel ripped his glance over to see what Quentin was doing. The man stood frozen in place. One hand clutched a pen, the other the pad of paper. His cock jutted from the nest of dark hair, as hard and pulsing as Mel’s. Even from this distance, Mel could see the pre-cum glistening at the purplish top. A hard groan turned his attention back to Tasha. She dusted the robe over her breasts now, toying with each hard nipple. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, eyes closed, head rolling from side to side. “Show us your clit,” he ordered, and wrapped his hand around his cock. Tasha pressed her hand downward, then parted her labia with her fingers and flashed them her swollen clit. “Nice.” He fondled his balls. “Now your hair. Let it down.” She reached up and unclasped it. Dark satin fell down her back. She gave it a small shake. Light gleamed from it, mesmerizing Mel all over again. Slow steps took her to the bed. If they wanted to see any more, they’d have to follow. Neither man hesitated. Mel heard Quentin drop the writing material. The sound was barely covered by Mel’s splash as he jumped from the tub. He grabbed a robe and smeared it over his body as he hurried toward the bedroom, gaze flickering from Quentin’s bare ass steps in front of him and the first glimpse of his sexy44

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as-sin wife ahead. Quentin parted the fake vines and leaves that hid the bedroom and stopped just inside the doorway. Mel couldn’t resist the need to wrap his arm around Quentin’s waist and tucked his cock against the cleft of Quentin’s ass. Quentin reached around and cupped Mel’s hip, urging his hand around his erection. Mel rocked into him and stroked his hot dick. Tasha lay sprawled on the huge bed, thrusting a glass dildo in and out of her pussy, while her fingers worked her clit. Lube and condoms were at her feet. Her eyes widened in feigned surprise at seeing them there. With a groan, she shoved pillows beneath her hips, removed her toy, and spread her labia wide. The invitation was unmistakable…and irresistible. Mel gave Quentin’s cock a long stroke, then brushed his hand up Quentin’s torso before he wandered to the bed. Gaze locked to Tasha’s wet pussy, he tore open the condom package and slipped it over his erection. It was an unnecessary precaution under ordinary circumstances—she was his wife after all. But Mel wanted to last as long as possible and the shield would help him do so. Tasha reached for Mel’s sac as he knelt between her thighs. A hard squeeze and the flick of her tongue over her lips sent shock waves through his veins. But it was Quentin’s hand grasping the base of Mel’s cock, not the condom, that kept Mel in check. He groaned at the feel of Quentin tucked against him. Quentin’s pre-cum dotted Mel’s lower back. “I’ve missed you both so much,” Quentin whispered, then 45

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kissed and licked his way over Mel’s shoulder. Tasha wrapped her arm around him, urging him closer as Quentin traced Mel’s backbone down to his crack. Quentin guided Mel’s dick toward Tasha’s core, pushing it toward her fire. Mel plunged in, grinding his teeth against the growl that ripped through his throat. Quentin parted his friend’s butt cheeks and flashed his tongue over Mel’s hole and balls. A groan from Tasha confirmed she’d gotten similar attention. Her nipples felt like pebbles against his chest. Her cunt muscles clenched him like a vice. Fingernails carved divots into his back. Mel didn’t dare move. One thrust and he’d be coming. The sound of the package opening sent ripples of anticipation skidding over him. Hard, short pants passed for breathing and matched Tasha’s. Facing backward, Quentin straddled his waist, rubbing his hard balls over Mel’s back while his fingers spread lube over Mel’s anus, probing, stretching, promising. Tasha’s whimper opened Mel’s eyes. Then he felt the dildo glide against his erection as Quentin eased it inside her ass. He thrust it at a snail’s pace while he worked his fingers into Mel. Tasha’s hand whipped up, smacking Quentin’s butt cheek hard. The man groaned and lifted up for another. She quickly obliged, raining one blow after the other on his rear end. Each spank earned her a groan and drove Mel to the breaking point as Quentin thrust the dildo rapidly into her…and against Mel’s aching cock. 46

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Mel grabbed her wrists and nailed them onto the bed. “You two are killing me.” She gave a husky laugh and wiggled beneath him. “Sorry. You can get even later.” “I will.” He glanced over his shoulder. “For both of you.” “I…look forward to it,” Quentin said through hard breaths. “Right now…” He eased away and knelt between Mel’s thighs. Mel released Tasha and braced himself on his forearms to take Quentin’s weight. “God…it’s been so long.” Mel nearly wept from the emotion overwhelming him. Tasha cupped his cheek and kissed him. His lips froze beneath hers as Quentin breached his anal muscle. Pain gave way to pressure, then instantly to pleasure. He tossed his head up on a moan. Balls cushioned balls. Pussy cradled his cock. The dildo… God! No one moved. His erection felt like granite. Every twitch of her muscles, every flex of Quentin’s cock called to him to fuck, fuck, fuck…now, now, now! Tasha wiggled her hand between them, pushing her clit against his erection. Then she rocked her hips, setting them into motion. Mel’s mind blanked, his only awareness the feel of her, the feel of him, and the orgasm rushing to engulf him. Somehow he managed to hang on, pumping faster and harder with every breath he took. Quentin’s fingers dug into his hips. Tasha’s nails scored 47

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his back. The heat…wrapping around their bodies, binding their hearts. The sounds—words of love, cries of pleasure. Tasha’s pussy spasmed around him. She arched into the orgasm, tossing her legs around both men as it claimed her. Quentin seated himself deep, rolling his pelvis into Mel’s hips as he came. Mel could feel the force of his orgasm through the condom. A hard thrust plunged him into Tasha, his garbled moan making his throat raw as he came and came and came. One by one they collapsed, spent and gasping…and smiling and touching. Mel wanted to say it was just as great as he remembered. But it was better because this was hard won. This involved love, patience, and a leap of faith on all their parts. “I feel like we’ve all just been through a trial of fire these last five years,” he said. Quentin opened his mouth to reply, then that look overcame him. Tasha laughed. “You’d better write it down while our libidos are in a down cycle.” Quentin grinned. “I’ll make sure I dedicate it to both of you.” “Don’t you dare. That’s how rumors get started.” She smacked his butt. “Go. Soon as we catch our breath, we’re going home. We want you to see your room.” Quentin hoisted himself to one elbow. “You have a room for me in your house?” Mel tucked Tasha into the cove of his body. “Of course we do. We told you there would always be one.” 48

TAINTED LOVE

Tears misted his eyes. “So you did.” He blinked the tears away and gave them a cocky grin. “But…I’m going to need a musical instrument of some kind. My piano needs a home. My guitar at least. Hell, even a harmonica.” Tasha shuddered. “You know I hate harmonicas. How about a comb and tissue paper?” Quentin laughed and tossed his arm around them. “It’s a start. Perhaps I’ll just see about building a house next to yours.” Tasha cupped his cheek and smiled. Mel ruffled his hair. “What could be more perfect?” “Nothing,” Quentin whispered, and tightened his hold around them.

49

CAITLYN WILLOWS

Erotic romance author Caitlyn Willows weaves deep emotions and sizzling sensuality into her action-filled stories. Believing life is to be lived and felt, not merely watched, Willows delivers real-to-life characters in unforgettable tales of love, adventure, and always steamy passion. Caitlyn Willows’s email address is: [email protected] *

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Don’t miss Midnight Rendezvous, by Caitlyn Willows, available at AmberHeat.com!

There’s something about midnight that brings out the lust in Vanessa Morgan. The inky darkness, the stars glittering in the sky…and the two hunky men watching her from the building next door. Each night her exhibitionist soul caters to the voyeur in them. Each night she craves the touch of a body to hers, but how can she possibly choose one of them when she really wants them both? She’s the hottest woman Enrique Calderon and Luke Graham have ever known. What started by accident when they

glimpsed her through their windows late one night has now turned to sweet obsession. Soon watching isn’t enough. They crave the touch of her skin, a whiff of her scent, the heat of her body…together. Pooling their resources, these two best friends plan a midnight rendezvous of their own for the woman of their dreams. Now…if only she’ll accept the invite…

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