Dedication

For anyone who’s ever fantasized about finding the perfect place to get away from it all. The

cabana boys you dreamed up were never this awesome, were they?

Chapter One

You Are Personally and Cordially Invited to Attend

The Soft Opening of Australia’s Newest FIVE-STAR Luxury Resort

BANDICOOT COVE on Bilby Island.

Bring a plus one if you desire.

All expenses and needs will be catered for

as we test our customer services in preparation for the Grand Opening.

Kylie stared at the embossed card once more. The elaborate curlicues and swirls in the resort

name twirled like fireworks going off in celebration. She’d really and truly made it. All those years of
schooling, of working her way up through hotel after hotel, and here she was, in charge of the hottest,
most exclusive resort to hit Australia.

She flipped the card onto her desk and drained the sparkling water in her wine glass in one gulp.

About bloody time.

Three weeks remained until the doors symbolically swung open, and her feet already

throbbed—and not in a good way. There were last-minute details to take care of, which included
ensuring she could be reached at all times during the soft opening. The practice weekend would be her
last chance to make certain any possible disasters were eradicated before the official opening.

God help anyone who interfered with her preparations over the next few weeks.

The view out her window showcased the resort. When she’d demanded a fourth-floor office

instead of one of the penthouse units—like most managers nabbed—the rest of her crew had been
shocked. Yeah, she’d have been able to see the entire length of Bilby Island. All the way from the
sheltered west-side harbor to the eastern shore where white sand beaches met the Pacific Ocean. But
this location put her closer to the action. Let her look into the heart of the resort—the actual people
moving around it. Staff wandering the grounds, working the pools, arranging tables and chairs in the
bars and restaurants below her.

Management required a certain set of skills, not the least of which was the ability to read the

subtle nuances in body language, understanding what people said without saying a word. Kylie was an
expert. Always had been, and now that skill was going to make Bandicoot Cove a namesake for
excellence in the resort business.

A rapid knock on the door sounded and she smiled with satisfaction. Another thing she was

known for. Punctuality. A quick glance at her watch showed this should be her majordomo of the
restaurants—twenty minutes early for their final meeting, before he went and dealt with his team
overseeing the dozen eateries under his administration. Kylie stepped quickly to the door, cursing her
heels. These shoes were a write-off. She’d have to give up at least an inch of height to be able to still
walk once the weekend was done.

“I’d like to go over your dessert menus one more time. There’s too much repetition in the

specialty choices.” Kylie spoke as she pulled the door open, expecting to find Mr. Jamieson. Instead her
gaze had to travel higher than expected. Up a crisp white shirt stretched over an obviously well-muscled
chest. The top button was undone, with dark curls peeking out. Jaw already showing a hint of shadow in
spite of being clean-shaven. Sensual lips, brilliant white teeth. A pair of bright blue eyes that snared her
and stole her breath away.

“I’d love to talk about dessert. Sweet, dark chocolate, smeared all over you so I can lick it off, is

my first choice.” The husky tone of his voice shot into her ears and melted her spine a little.

“Brad?”

He crowded against her into the room, closed the door behind them, and then she couldn’t

admire anything anymore because he had his arms around her and was kissing her senseless.

Warm, wonderfully exciting, toe-curling, pussy-heating excitement hit, and she moaned. It only

took an instant to thread her fingers into his hair and lock his mouth against hers. She had absolutely no
time for this, and there was no way on earth she was going stop a second before she had to.

He slowed them, moving his tongue to erotically explore her mouth. Stroking, teasing, and

making her want to throw the schedule out the window, haul him into her bedroom and not surface
until after the soft opening was over.

Brad kissed his way along her jaw line, licking and nipping even as his strong arms took control

of her, turning her easily. Her body ended up nestled butt against his groin and he pulled her hipbones

to snuggle her tight. Fires flared inside, but she mercilessly stomped them flat. There wasn’t enough
time, and she didn’t want to spend the next umpteen hours with soaking wet panties.

“Brad, I need to get back to work.”

One final nip landed on her earlobe before Brad leaned her torso away from him slightly, his

hands stroking upward to settle on her shoulders. When he pressed down and started to massage, the
words she’d been about to repeat vanished.

“Oh God, that feels good.” All protests vanished. Her ass rested on him, but even more than the

thick ridge of his erection, the steady movement of his hands fascinated her. Thumbs digging into her
tight muscles, followed by lighter caresses outward.

Brad hummed softly. “I know your schedule, and you have enough time to take a few minutes

for yourself. I bet you didn’t even stop for breakfast, did you?”

Kylie tilted her head to the side, mentally urging him to return to the spot he’d hit a second

before. Right…right… “…There. Don’t stop. And I didn’t eat yet. I will.”

Once the damn resort was up and fully operational.

With less than a month left before the grand opening, Kylie was taking no chances. The practice

run—the soft opening—had been approved by the board six months earlier. Now they were down to
the nitty-gritty of making their exclusive clientele not only happy, but sinfully, enthusiastically,
over-the-top passionate about Bandicoot Cove, just like Kylie was.

Brad kissed her nape, the magic in his fingers dissolving the knots that had built over the past

months. “You won’t be any good to anyone if you don’t stay healthy.”

“Yes, mother.”

Brad laughed and tugged her towards the couch. She stepped slowly, her feet protesting

mightily.

He stopped and stared at her. “What’s wrong?”

She kicked off one shoe and groaned in relief. “I’m test-driving shoes for the opening. Those

went from zero to sixty in terms of pain in the past hour—oh!”

He scooped her up, one arm supporting her back, one under her knees as he carried her to the

couch. “Damn sexy.”

“Sexy instruments of torture.” Kylie held onto his neck, peeking a quick glance at her watch and

calculating—Jamieson wasn’t here yet. Maybe she had time for a moment’s break. If she ran behind,
she’d simply skip lunch as well.

His strong body rubbed hers as he lowered her to the overstuffed cushion, and he lingered over

their thigh-to-thigh contact. “I’m happy to report that the harbor is coming along nicely. All the final
points will be in place for your inspection by the end of next week.”

Oh. Work talk. Disappointment washed over her. If she was going to take a break, she wanted it

to be a real break, not a disguised conference with the local harbormaster. She twisted on the couch to
face Brad and found herself trapped by his big hands.

“Lean back,” he ordered, pressing slightly on her chest to make her fall against the seat. He sat

beside her on the soft couch, lifted her legs onto his lap, tossed the other shoe after the first and
resumed the massage he’d started on her neck, this time on her aching feet.

She might have an orgasm right then and there.

“Oh, yes—holy shit that feels incredible.” Kylie closed her eyes and let his touch take over. “So,

are the nets in place around the beach?”

He chuckled, digging his fingers in hard. “Shhh.”

Okay. Relax and enjoy. For the next fifteen minutes she could do that.

The rubbing changed in tempo. In pressure. When he caught hold of her calves she knew she

was smiling. When the stroking touches rose even higher and he touched her inner thigh on each pass,
all the aches in her feet were forgotten compared to the ache in her sex.

“We don’t have time for anything right now,” she warned

“Now why do you think I’m all about having sex with you, Kylie?”

She peeled open one eye and stared at him “Because…hello. You and I seem to end up fucking

every time we’re within twenty feet of each other for longer than thirty minutes.”

Damn, even his chuckle turned her on. “That’s the direct result of the most important part of

our relationship. We’re friends. We like each other.”

Kylie laughed, the sound turning into a groan of pleasure as his fingertips nicked her panties.

“‘We like each other.’ Brad, friends don’t fuck all the time.”

The panties were making a rapid descent down her legs. “We don’t fuck. We make love.”

Oh damn. “Please, not this again.” The incredible sensation of his hand moving along her slit

couldn’t make her nervousness disappear completely. “I can’t choose. Not right now, not with the Grand
Opening coming so soon.”

Her skirt wiggled upward, seemingly all by itself. “Who said anything about choosing? Just

pointing out it’s not fucking, it’s making love. Don’t argue with me.”

There was no way she could continue to quarrel. Giving him hell required speech. Speaking was

impossible at this moment because he’d spread her legs, crouched on his knees between them and
buried his face in her pussy.

He licked her. Slow, thorough.

She shuddered at the exquisite sensation, letting her limbs fall farther apart.

Another lick.

Another.

Oh God, he was irresistible. He not only hit her clit with just the right pressure, for just the right

amount of time, he also managed to keep one foot in his hands and rub the sore muscles.

It was heavenly.

“Brad.” In spite of the massive to-do list in her brain, she was quickly losing the tension that had

begun when she rose at five a.m. “Brad…”

He stroked, slightly changing his touch. Harder licks, longer pressure. The urge to wiggle under

his mouth grew, the pre-orgasmic tingle spreading through her like a network of erotic fuses.

Then her foot was free and he used his hands to lift her hips, stabbing his tongue into her core.

Lapping at her cream, bringing her higher and higher until with one excited cry, she came. Her climax
rolled through her, stripping away the tension and leaving lots of little happy hormones in its place.
Muscles relaxed. She couldn’t have felt better if she’d grabbed a three-hour nap.

The aftershocks as he made a final pass surprised her with their intensity.

“Brad!”

He rose and stretched over her, his lips glistening with her juices. He wiped them clean and

flashed his brilliant smile. “And that’s your break, young lady. I think you’ll find your master chef will be
here in—” he looked at his watch, “—seven minutes.”

Kylie let him help her find her feet. “Seven minutes?”

He held her panties, waiting until she stepped in then sliding them up her legs and adjusting her

skirt back into position. “Enough time to go comb your hair.”

“How? How do you know that?”

Brad led her to the small bathroom and tweaked her nose. “Finn is running interference until

half past the hour.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled something out, pressing it into her palm. She glanced in

confusion at a small, old-fashioned skeleton key that appeared to be made of platinum. There was a
small loop at the top, as if for a charm bracelet.

“What…?”

“Keys unlock many things, Kylie. Treasure boxes, doors, possibilities, even hearts.”

He took her lips in a fierce yet brief kiss. Then he turned her gently in the direction of the sink

and retreated. Kylie stared into the mirror. She looked…well, not quite ravished, but certainly far more
relaxed than she had twenty minutes ago.

“Oh, Kylie?”

She glanced back at the door, at the long, handsome length of him framed in the doorway, the

key clutched in her fist. “Yes?”

“I wanted to point out. We didn’t fuck or make love this time. But the next time we meet? Be

ready.”

Then he was gone, and her heart did backflips at the serious expression he’d worn.

She did care for him. She did.

If only she weren’t totally infatuated with Hemi and Finn as well.

Chapter Two

I really, really do not have time for this.

Stomping to the high-tide line, Kylie drove her fingernails—long overdue for a manicure, but

that would have to wait—into her palms. Of all the times for the resort’s scuba instructor to go missing.

She shot the slim watch on her left wrist a harried glance. After three o’clock already? Damn it,

in less than an hour she was due for a video-conference with Nick Blackthorne’s agent. The Nick
Blackthorne! How was she supposed to convince the world’s biggest rock star to come to the resort’s
soft opening if she was late for a meeting with his agent?

I’m going to kill him.

The scuba instructor, that was, not the rock star. Or the rock star’s agent, although the woman

had been a right pain in the arse every time Kylie’d tried to…

Her spiked heel sank into the soft, damp sand and she let out a growl, stumbling to a halt.

Glaring at her feet, she ground her teeth. So much for shoes number two.

With another growl—this one more frustrated and flustered—Kylie reached down and yanked

off her second pair of trial stilettos, throwing them aside. They may have been beautiful, they may have
cost a small fortune, but they sure weren’t up to an enraged charge across a beach. None of her heels
were. Not that she planned on barging across the beach on the night of the opening after an erstwhile
scuba instructor who wasn’t where he was meant to be, mind you, but one never knew where one had
to be at an event like—

Oh, for heaven’s sake, woman, you’re babbling!

Forcing the stiffness in her muscles to disappear—yeah, right—Kylie let out a long, ragged

breath. She was too uptight. And it wasn’t simply the approaching soft opening affecting her.

Being halfway toward falling head-over-heels in lust with three men wasn’t exactly on the

“responsible manager’s things to do” list, especially when all of those men worked at the resort. Not
under her direct supervision—there was no way she could be accused of anything fishy—but the fact
she’d been dating all three of them over the past months?

It was enough to raise a few eyebrows amongst the rest of the staff, mostly jealous ones among

the women. She didn’t want to know what the board would say about it, although her private life should
be her own business. Still, it added to her stress.

It didn’t help when one of those three men was half an hour late for a meeting with her, and

was currently nowhere on the island to be found.

When she got her hands on Hemi she would—

A tall, hard, wet body pressed against her back. A very hard body. A very hard, very wet body.

“Fuck, you look gorgeous when pissed off.”

Hemi’s deep voice, like the rumble of distant thunder on a hot, humid night, caressed Kylie’s ear.

At the same moment, the resort’s scuba instructor closed two long-fingered hands over her breasts and
gave them a gentle knead.

Liquid heat pooled immediately in the junction of her thighs and she bit back a groan. No. She

wasn’t going to let the man do this. Not now. Brad had waylaid her enough this morning, she had to dig
up some level of professional decorum and deal with Hemi.

Hemi dragged his thumbs over her nipples through her shirt and she let out the groan she’d

tried to suppress earlier. Oh, who was she kidding? No one was the boss of Hemi. Her six-foot-two
Maori warrior with eyes of midnight, skin the color of milk chocolate and a cock like the proverbial horse
pretty much did exactly what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it, and for the last three months
what he wanted to do was make wild, savage, totally inappropriate and thoroughly thorough love to
her. Often. And anywhere.

“Hemi,” she began, struggling to cling to her rage. He’d missed a meeting. An important

meeting. With her. And judging by the wet state of his body currently pressed so closely against
hers—God, she could feel the heavy form of his scrotum against the curve of her backside—he’d been
swimming. “Hemi, you were meant to discuss your team’s roster for the upcoming…”

Warm lips nibbled on the curve of her shoulder, his hands doing something far too wonderful to

her breasts. Like cupping them and teasing her distended nipples. “I have something for you.”

Oh God, yes.

Her response was raw and instant, filling Kylie’s cheeks with pink heat and her pussy with damp

want. She scrunched her face, leaning back into his hard torso a little. How did this happen? How had
she been caught under the spell of three different men? Brad was incredibly persistent. Hemi almost
caveman-like in his sexual domination of her body, and Finn…God, she couldn’t even find the words to
describe his power over her.

Of course, finding anything close to cognitive thought while Hemi massaged her breasts was

almost a bloody impossibility. Damn, what was he doing with his hands?

How did he—

His hands slipped under the hemline of her shirt, skimming the flesh of her ribcage before

claiming her breasts. Only the fine lace of her bra prevented his palms from branding them completely,
but even that barrier offered very little protection. Kylie’s head swam and she gasped, her sex
constricting on a cock that wasn’t there.

“I found it off Three Lovers’ Point,” Hemi murmured against her throat, his lips scoring a

tormenting line up to her ear. It took Kylie a heartbeat to process what he’d said, her brain befuddled as
it was by the wicked mastery of his hands. Oh, God, was it possible to orgasm just by having your tits felt
up? Was it?

“W-what did you…” she groaned, the word catching in her throat as Hemi pinched her left

nipple with a touch more pressure. He was good at this. Knowing just the right level of rough arrogance
to make her body ache for more. So good. So fucking good. “What did you find?”

He chuckled, his lips and tongue exploring the shallow shell of her ear. “Later. After I make you

scream my name.”

Fresh heat flooded Kylie’s cheeks. Her pulse thumped hard in her neck. If she let him, she knew

he’d pull her to the sand and have his way with her. But she couldn’t. She didn’t have time. Besides, they
were standing on a beach where anyone could see them.

Her pussy contracted at the entirely too-arousing notion. Sex on the beach with a Maori sea

warrior? Oh yes, please.

“Hemi,” she began, attempting to twist from his embrace as she also endeavored to make her

voice firm. “I don’t…”

He didn’t let her finish.

With one fluid, startling move, he pulled her shirt over her head and captured her right nipple

with his mouth.

“Oh God,” Kylie burst out, partly trying to shove him away, partly raking her nails over his bare,

broad shoulders as she clung to him. “Oh God…that feels…”

Her groan, slipping from her parted lips on a shaking breath, elicited a low chuckle from Hemi.

He cupped his hand under her right breast, holding it with kneading fingers as he suckled deep and hard
on her nipple. Shards of exquisite pain ribboned through her, down into the pit of her belly to fill her
womb with heavy tension. It was always this way with Hemi—try as she might to ignore the pull, she
was his sexual slave. Undone by his arrogant force. It made her giddy. And turned her on. So much.

Too much.

He sucked on her breast, pulling her nipple past his lips with almost brutal force, his tongue

stroking the puckered point. His free hand raked down her back to her arse, squeezing one cheek with
savage intent before hauling her against his hips. His erection—a massive rod of hot, thick flesh—ground
against the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, bruising her skin with intoxicating demand.

Kylie whimpered, her fingers flittering over his back, his side, before coming to rest on his hips.

Oh God, he’s naked.

The realization sheared through her sanity, her fingers coming to rest on Hemi’s bare skin, her

pussy constricting.

She should stop him. She should stop this. What if someone came along? What if—

Hemi cupped her arse in one big hand and, his mouth on her breast, lowered her to the ground.

The cool, soft sand slid under her body like a cloud, conforming to her shape instantly. The

beaches of Bilby Island were pristine, the sand whiter than white. During work, she’d often stared at
their quiet, untouched perfection. She’d walked on them, jogged on them every morning, sure. But lie
stretched out? Pinned to the infinite number of tiny grains by a man determined to make her scream
with pleasure?

Oh God, never that.

Hemi’s mouth worked her breast, his teeth biting at her nipple in increasing pressure before his

tongue laved its wet tip through the lace of her bra. She moaned, her nails scoring lines up the broad
expanse of his sun-warmed back until she tangled her fingers in his thick dreadlocks. A surreal memory
flashed through her mind—the day she’d interviewed him for the scuba instructor job. She’d
commented on his hair, noting the dreadlocks didn’t necessarily suit the Bandicoot Cove image. He’d
looked her straight in the eyes, leant forward a little on his seat and murmured, “Yes, but they suit the
image of a man who could bring you to orgasm with just his tongue, don’t you think?”

Is that what he was going to do now? Make her come with just his mouth? Just his tongue on

her breast? ’Cause it sure as hell felt like it. Her womb throbbed with heavy need, her pussy lips prickling
with the sudden rush of blood. Lord, if he kept going, she was going to come right here on the beach
without anything touching her fucking pussy.

How could that happen?

Who cares?

A ragged snort escaped her and she fisted her hands tighter in his hair, lifting her hips off the

sand. God, she wanted to feel his thick cock. “Fuck me,” she moaned, staring blindly at the never-ending
sweep of blue sky above her. “Fuck me, please.”

With a chuckle, Hemi lifted his head from her breast, his piercingly dark eyes almost hidden by

the thick black lashes framing them. “Not now, ipo.” He blew a fine stream of breath over her wet
nipple. “On this beach I plan to make you come just by doing this…” And he lowered his head and took
her nipple with his teeth and lips again.

“Oh, oh…” Kylie twisted beneath him, spreading her legs wide in an attempt to press her

throbbing clit to his rigid erection. “Yes…”

He rolled his hips forward, stroking her folds with the length of his erection as his mouth drew

over and over again on her nipple. With each sucking pull, shards of liquid tension speared through her,

jolts of pleasure sinking deep into the very center of her need. She closed her eyes, bowed her neck and
thrust her breasts upward, holding his head to her chest even as she wished he’d rise above her body
and impale her on his shaft.

Could he be serious about making her come by just sucking on her breasts? He wouldn’t do that

to—

He lifted his head a little, pulling her nipple with him until it popped from his mouth. The abrupt

loss of suction made her cry out, her legs wrapping around his lean hips of their own accord. The warm,
tropical air streamed over her moistened nipple, making it pucker harder.

“Hemi…” she gasped. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. With a low groan that sounded far more primitive and animalistic, he snared the

delicate edges of her bra and ripped them aside, exposing her breasts completely.

“You are so fucking gorgeous, ipo,” he stated, and not for the first time the Maori word for

sweetheart made her heart quicken. It wasn’t meant to be like this. It was meant to be just fucking, just
fooling around. Exactly like it was meant to be with Brad and Finn, but somewhere along the
way—somewhere between the first explosive orgasm Finn had given her weeks ago, the mind-blowing
orgasm Brad had given her only a few hours ago and this…this…absolute conquering of her body by a
man who defied every checklist she had for the perfect partner—it had become so much more.

A tormented moan vibrated in her throat, part frustrated confusion, part mounting pleasure.

With Hemi’s weight nestled between her spread thighs, with his rock-hard cock nudging at her sodden
pussy, the ability to think was rapidly disappearing.

“I know you are conflicted, ipo.” His voice played with her senses. Made her pulse pound and

her throat thicken. Or maybe that was from the way he dragged a thumb over each nipple. “But for the
moment, think of nothing but how much I want to give you pleasure.”

She let out a breath, gazing at him. The entire left side of his face was marked by an intricate

tattoo she knew spoke of his prowess and the prowess of his people, but whereas she’d once thought it
frightening, now she couldn’t imagine a time not seeing it. Being turned on by its mystery.

Her warrior.

“Hemi…” she whispered, touched her fingertips to his lips.

He kissed them, a gentle kiss unlike any they’d ever shared before, and with a growl once again

brutal, he lowered his head and took her nipple in his mouth.

How long he worshipped her breasts there on the beach, exposed to anyone who happened to

walk by, Kylie didn’t know. Time turned into a blur of pleasure that rolled over her like the waves
crashing on the sand. Waves of exquisite, building pleasure that pummeled her closer and closer to an
orgasm that had no right being—an orgasm conjured out of nipple contact alone. With every sucking

pull and nipping bite on her breast, Kylie grew hotter, heavy with absolute rapture. With every flick of
Hemi’s tongue over her nipples, she heard herself whimper and plead for more. More.

And finally, his hands far from gentle, Hemi gave her more, kneading both her breasts with

growing urgency as his mouth feasted greedily on one nipple and his fingers tortured the other.

It was too much. The raw pleasure radiating through Kylie from her swollen breasts detonated in

her core, her sex constricting and gripping and pulsing as an orgasm that defied comprehension claimed
her.

“Oh God, Hemi.” She bucked her hips upward, slamming her folds to his turgid length. “Yes, yes.

Yes!”

She exploded, swept away by the sheer mastery of Hemi’s suckling mouth, the distant call of a

seagull the only music to accompany their passion and her release.

Eventually, Hemi lifted his head from her breast, gazing at her with heavy-lidded eyes. “I like the

sound of my name on your lips, Kylie Sullivan.” He rolled his hips a little, stroking her still sensitive folds
with his still erect cock. “I hope to hear it for many years to come.”

The statement parted Kylie’s lips in a soft gasp. Hemi was the last of her three men she’d

suspected of wanting a happy ever after. And yet, she couldn’t think of a future without him.

Or Brad.

Or Finn.

“Hemi…” she began, her mouth dry.

He chuckled, rising to his feet and giving her a wry, crooked grin as he shook his head. “It’s okay,

Kylie.”

The contradiction of words and action should have made her worried. Instead, it made her smile

back at him.

Moving with graceful ease, Hemi stepped from between her legs and bent at the waist, his

fingers wrapping around something small in the sand.

He turned back, lowering into a crouch to place whatever it was on her still hitching belly. “For

you, ipo.” He smiled. “Mauria tēnei tautau i nga wā katoa hai whakaturi.”

Kylie dropped her stare from his face, her eyes widening at what he’d given her: a small paua

shell of pearlescent beauty. A paua shell on which someone—she assumed Hemi himself—had engraved
with stunning perfection an intricate single twist, the Maori symbol of two people joining together for
eternity.

She jerked her stare back up to Hemi, her heart slamming hard, wondering what the words he’d

just whispered meant.

Only to find herself alone on the beach.

Damn it, what the hell did she do now?

Chapter Three

Havaianas were a gift from the gods, Kylie determined as she closed the door behind her in the

now-deserted Club Evoke. Her toes curled in pleasure, luxuriating in their newly gained freedom from
the third pair of stilettos she’d test driven—and rejected—today. Damn pity the flat-soled sandals
currently caressing her feet couldn’t be worn with formal clothes.

Tomorrow she’d have to start again, try on a different pair of heels until she found one that kept

her feet in relative comfort.

She checked her watch. 21.32. Almost half an hour shy of her pre-arranged meeting with Finn.

Enough time to find a drink, sit quietly and give serious consideration to what she was going to do with
her life, with her men. She’d fallen hard and fast for all of them, and seriously, what did the future hold
for a woman in love with three men?

Heartache. That was all.

Yet she couldn’t let them go. Any of them. Just thinking about them made her heart sing.

Remembering their touch made her burn. Brad’s tongue, Hemi’s mouth, the orgasms they’d wrenched
out of her today…

A soft whimper escaped her throat.

Between Hemi and Brad, Kylie was a very happy woman. A satisfied woman. A…cherished

woman. She leaned back against the door, closing her eyes, relishing the warmth that knowledge
brought her. But how could she ever choose between them? How could she select one over the other?
Especially with Finn in the picture as well.

Her breath came in short gulps. She couldn’t choose. Didn’t want to. Her chest heaved, forcing

her breasts to brush against her blouse. She’d deliberately gone braless tonight—Finn loved it when she
neglected to wear underwear—and the soft caress of cotton against her nipples was sheer torture.

She covered her chest with her arm, cupping one breast, ceasing the excruciating torment of the

shirt. She could almost come again just thinking about Brad and Hemi. About their delicious attacks. She
brushed her thumb over her distended nipple, relived Hemi’s mouth sucking on it…

A discreet cough echoed across the cavernous, empty room.

Shit. Not alone.

She dropped her arm to her side, praying to God whoever was here hadn’t noticed how she’d

caressed herself, how her nipples pulsed and beaded. A quick scan of the room revealed nothing but
ultra-modern furniture glinting in the dim light provided by the aluminum and glass pendant lights
suspended above the bar.

No, wait.

Behind the bar.

A man stood there, one hip propped against the bar, a cloth dangling from one hand, a glass

from the other. He studied her lazily.

What was he doing here? She’d expected to be alone for the next thirty minutes.

“Mr. Hardy?” she asked unnecessarily. The man was unmistakable. His shaggy blond hair,

six-foot-wide shoulders and casual clothes were a dead giveaway.

He nodded easily. “At your service.”

Too easily for her liking. The man tested her patience, and he knew it. Why, oh why, could he

not simply dress in the prescribed outfit every other bartender at the hotel wore? Why’d he have to go
and wear a pair of shorts while still working? And he was working. Why else would he be shining that
glass at half past nine at night?

Kylie instinctively slipped into manager mode. “May I ask what you’re wearing?”

“You may indeed,” he answered gallantly, “and the answer would be a pair of boardies.”

And nothing else, apparently. How many times had he been told: Black pants, a white shirt and a

black waistcoat? “Why are you wearing board shorts?”

He made a funny noise. A snort of amusement? “Well, ma’am, I figured the rest of the hotel

staff might take offense if I came to work naked.”

Damn it, she’d walked straight into that. Of course the smart-arse would have some cocky

response. And of course she’d suck it up like a lovesick puppy.

Kylie closed her eyes and shook her head as images crowded her mind. Now that he’d

mentioned his nudity, picturing it was not difficult. Ripped muscle, long lean legs, killer arse. What was
difficult was shaking the picture once it formed in her head.

Try hard! “Have you or have you not been warned about the dress code for bartenders at

Bandicoot Cove?”

The man was without a doubt the single most exasperating hotel employee. His disregard for

authority threw her. He simply refused to heed the rules—and he got away with it every damn time.
How could he not? He need only flash his devilish smile or send forth a blast of his inexhaustible supply
of charm, and management fell at his feet in an adoring heap every time, lapping it up.

Okay, so she was the only one who fell at his feet. But she couldn’t help it. The instant he’d

turned those baby blues on her, she’d fallen for said charms, hook, line and sinker. Fortunately, Stan, his
direct boss, wasn’t as susceptible.

His talent for whipping up the best cocktails this side of the equator was legendary, and his

blond locks, sexy smile and intense blue eyes attracted women like flies. He’d be a hit in Club Evoke. It
was the reason Stan had hired him in the first place.

“I have been warned. Several times.” He grinned, once again testing her resolve to remain stern.

How could anyone pretend annoyance when faced with that smile?

She gritted her teeth so as not to grin back. “And what have we said?”

“‘Mr. Hardy, you will wear your black pants, a white button-up shirt and a black waistcoat at all

times. No excuses. Ever. Do. I. Make. Myself. Perfectly. Clear?’” He mimicked her words with just the
right inflection and timing.

Impudent little shit. She should wring his neck. And punch him in the gut. And wrap her arms

around his shoulders, bury her fingers in his hair, mold her lips to his and never let go. “Yet here you are,
wearing nothing but a pair of shorts.”

Damned if he didn’t look like a million bucks in them. Damned if they didn’t show his washboard

abs and perfect six-pack. Still, the body of a Greek God did not give him the right to question resort
policy. Did it?

She walked forward, steeling herself against his charm, intent on giving him a piece of her mind.

His next words stopped her short. “I could take them off, if that would make you happier.”

Kylie blinked. “You could take what off?”

“My boardies.”

Desire flooded her veins instantly and unexpectedly.

Damned charming man. Thinks he can use his charisma to wrap me around his finger. He could,

but Kylie refused to acknowledge that. She strode over to the bar fridge and removed a bottle of water.
“You don’t think your offer might be a touch inappropriate, Mr. Hardy?”

“My apologies, ma’am,” he said without a hint of contrition, then waited with a devilish smile

while she uncapped the bottle and took a long sip. “Perhaps if I rephrase it, you won’t take offense.”

She eyed him warily, her heart beginning to thud. She should just fire his sexy, er, sorry arse and

be done with it. Pity that the bartenders fell under Stan’s authority and not hers.

He looked her dead in the eye. “Would you like me to take them off?”

His question sent her thudding heart slamming into her ribs.

His blue gaze bore into her, sending ribbons of desire spiraling down her spine. Damn it, this was

Brad and Hemi’s fault. Because of them she’d developed a taste for gorgeous men. And this bartender
extraordinaire was one gorgeous man.

She bit back her smile. Cocky little shit. She was so going to take him up on his challeng e. She

gave a sharp nod in his direction. “Yes, actually. I would.”

He stepped closer, his eyebrow raised, humor gleaming in his eyes. “Pardon me?”

“I said yes.” Kylie struggled to keep the laughter and the lust from her voice. The man possessed

more goddamned sex appeal than anyone had a right to own.

Another step. “Yes what?”

“Yes, I want you to take your shorts off.”

The humor vanished, replaced with a spark of fire. “Why?”

Why? Why the hell did he think? His hard, naked, male flesh, visible from the waist up, tempted

her until her mouth watered. What would his hard, naked, male flesh below the waist do to her?

Hah, as if she needed to ask. “Because I will not allow insubordination, and dressed like that you

are defying my wishes.” Damn, how’d she get her voice to sound so hoity?

He stepped ever closer, and his eyes narrowed, hungry flames visible beneath endlessly long

eyelashes. So close now, she caught a scent of his aftershave—a waft of fresh, island air and sensual,
sexy man. “Would you rather I pandered to your every wish?”

God, yes!

“If it means you’ll finally dress correctly, then yes. Absolutely.” The need to lean into him, touch

him, was overwhelming. She restrained herself, straightening her shoulders instead, then wished she
hadn’t. Her breasts poked into her shirt, and the damned cotton tortured her already aroused nipples.
Coupled with the shivers along her spine, she refused to think what Mr. Bartender was seeing. Because
he sure as hell was seeing something. His gaze had settled on her chest and a knowing smile touched his
lips.

“Baby, I know exactly how to dress to please you.” And with that, he plucked the water from her

hand, tossed it aside and kissed her.

Kylie had time only to take a wild breath, her heart jumping erratically, her skin tingling, before

surrendering to his attack.

The instant their lips met, she melted. Any semblance of resistance to his charms evaporated as

his tongue sought and found entrance to her mouth. She opened for him, let his tongue take possession
of her mouth and his body take possession of her mind.

His lips seduced, his tongue ravaged and his hands roamed freely over her back, up her sides.

His fingers whispered over the edge of her breasts, then caressed down to her arse, pulling her into the
cradle of his hips, pressing his erection against her belly.

Riotous yearning unfurled in her chest. Goose bumps erupted over her skin, and wet heat

flooded her pussy.

Here and now she was his. Only his. Just like she had been last night. And three nights before

that. And—

He tore his mouth from hers with a soft growl. “Kylie, fuck. You drive me crazy.”

“Finn,” she moaned. “Don’t stop kissing me. Please.”

“Have to get rid of your shirt, feel your skin.” His fingers tangled with her buttons, tormenting

her breasts beneath.

She couldn’t wait, couldn’t stand the cool air brushing her lips. Not when she ached for him,

craved him. Grabbing his cheeks to steady his head, she crushed her mouth to his, demanding the kiss
he’d refused. He fed it to her. Deliciously. Even as he slipped one button after the other through their
holes, he allowed her to feast on his mouth, his tongue, his lips. Feasting right back.

When her shirt fell open and she shrugged it impatiently over her shoulders, Finn pulled away

again, gazing greedily at her now-exposed chest.

The bartender’s groan ricocheted across her flesh and straight into her pussy, turning Kylie into

little more than a puddle of need.

“Your breasts,” he whispered. “Christ. They look…edible.”

They swelled beneath his gaze, the nipples tightening further. God, she wanted him to touch

them, kiss them. Feast on them as he’d feasted on her mouth. She cupped her breasts in her hands,
running her thumbs over her nipples, making them stand like hard pebbles. Her fingers trembled, as did
her knees. “H-Hemi thought so as well.”

A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Hemi?”

“He…enjoyed them. This afternoon. On the beach.”

Finn muttered something unintelligible. Envy pulsed from him in waves, ratcheting up her own

desire about a million times.

“He made me come,” she said, knowing it would drive him crazy. “Just with his mouth and

hands on my breasts. Made me come so hard, I’m still sh-shaking from it.”

Finn swore. Viciously. “Anyone else make you come today I should know about?” he asked

between clenched teeth.

Dare she tell him?

“Brad,” she said in a whisper.

Finn gave an agonized groan, but the flames of desire in his eyes flared even brighter. “How?”

“He…” Kylie hesitated, suddenly shy to tell him.

Finn wrapped a fistful of her hair around his hand, pulled her closer and ground his pulsing

erection against her pussy. “Baby, you’re killing me.” His voice was tortured. “Tell me what Brad did to
you.”

Heat rushed her cheeks, both from embarrassment and from memory of Brad’s talented tongue.

“He licked me.”

“Your breasts?” Finn demanded.

“No.” She blushed harder. “My pussy.”

The sound he made was something between a sigh and a moan. “He made you come like that?”

“God, yes!” The answer exploded from her.

“Was it good?”

“Heaven.”

“Does talking about it turn you on?”

“Talking about it with you turns me on.” Talking about anything with him turned her on.

“You know you’re going to come again, don’t you? Very, very soon.”

Kylie whimpered. “I hope so.”

“Take off your skirt,” Finn growled.

She couldn’t get it off fast enough. Finn was impatient with her panties. The rip of lace echoed

through the club, and then she was naked. Bared to his molten gaze.

His hands were on her waist, lifting her, laying her on the bar like one of the cocktails he so

adeptly created. She was his creation now, her body his to do what he wished with. And do with it he
did, covering every inch of flesh with kisses. A soft sweet caress of his lips here, a soul-wrenching, carnal
attack of tongue and teeth there. Wherever his mouth touched, fire burned, inflaming her further,
making her cry out, sob his name. Beg.

“Finn,” she pleaded. “God, more, please.”

He held back, tormenting her.

Desperate tears of need welled in her eyes.

“Fuck me,” she begged him.

He pressed gentle lips to her eyelids, soothing her tears. “Soon, baby.”

“Need you now,” she implored

“Need you too,” he whispered. “Now and forever.”

Frantic as she was for his touch, she still registered his words. “F-forever?”

“Forever, baby.”

With a delirious cry she captured his mouth again, kissing him with every iota of love she felt.

And God help her, she did love him. Just like she loved Hemi and Brad. She wanted him forever too.
Wanted them all forever.

She complained when he broke the kiss, then shut up as he trailed his hands down her naked

body, over her breasts, caressing her belly and lower. The instant his finger touched her pussy she
moaned. Hot liquid seeped between her legs, wetting her thighs, his hand.

“Take off your shorts,” she demanded. Damn it. He’d disregarded her orders once again. Instead

of him losing his shorts, she’d lost her clothes. How’d he manage that? How’d he do it every damn time?
Why was he not fucking her now?

She moaned, edgy, needy, wanting more, wanting him.

“Fuck, baby.” His voice sounded as wanton as she felt. “You make me wanna come without even

being inside you. Make me so damn hot. So damn horny.”

“Noooo. Not without me.” She squirmed against his hand, rocked her hips, pressed her clit

against him, shivered.

He stepped away from her, leaving her writhing helplessly on the bar, naked and alone. His gaze

on her body was so hot it burned.

“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered.

She licked her lips. “Fuck me, Finn.”

“I will,” he promised.

“I need to come,” she whispered. “We both do.” She cupped her breasts again, ran her palms

over her nipples, needing his touch.

“We both will.” A sheen of sweat beaded on his forehead, his gaze glued to her hands.

Damn it. Why was he standing so far away? She lowered one hand, bent her knees and spread

her legs. Then she touched the thin strip of hair above her pussy and shuddered.

He swallowed wordlessly, his gaze following her hand.

She ran a finger over her clit. So swollen, so sensitive.

Finn’s groan echoed across the bar.

“Want you inside me.” She circled her clit gently, then increased her speed as a muscle worked

silently in Finn’s cheek. Her eyes closed of their own accord. She couldn’t keep them open. Couldn’t do
anything but explore, feel and pray for Finn’s touch. Finn’s cock.

A whisper of sound, a slight breeze, and his mouth was on hers. His lips consumed her attention,

his presence consumed her mind. He covered her hand with his but did not move it. He let her do all the
work. So when her finger rubbed against her clit, his lay above it, adding pressure, adding stimulation,
adding pleasure. And when she couldn’t stand the emptiness any longer, and she slipped that same
finger across her pussy lips, and inside—his followed.

Together they slid deep into her channel, filling her.

Her cry was swallowed by his kiss. Sensation sizzled up her spine, down her breastbone. Rippled

in waves to encompass every nerve ending.

She pulled her finger out, only to thrust back in again. His hand followed hers. Her second

soundless cry echoed through her body, reverberated through his.

Over and over she plunged their fingers inside, using them to fuck herself, to bring her the

pleasure he so cruelly denied her.

“Come for me, baby,” Finn whispered as he pulled his mouth from hers.

She would. She could. Could explode with nothing more than his and her finger inside her. But…

“I want your cock, Finn,” she muttered.

“You’ll have it,” he promised. “It, and so much more. But for now, come just like this.” His eyes

burned, love and hunger glowing in them. Glowing for her.

He grinned then, that sexy, soul-searing grin. His other hand touched her. Intimately. He

dragged a fingertip over her inner thighs and higher, swirling it around her pussy, dragging it through her
juices until he reached her arse.

The second he touched the sensitive, hidden opening between her cheeks, Kylie exploded. Her

orgasm slammed through her, the walls of her pussy clamping like a vise around her finger and his.

Sensation rushed her, starting in her pussy and spreading, filling her veins, replacing her blood.

Wave upon wave of exquisite release made her scream. And laugh. And cry.

She called Finn’s name, begged for his mouth. He kissed her, so beautifully, so wonderfully, her

orgasm stretched out, lasting seconds, minutes, hours.

Lasting until her hand trembled so hard she could no longer hold it steady. It slipped out, along

with his, and she shuddered violently.

Before the last tingles of the climax died away, Finn leaned over, lowered his head between her

legs and licked her pussy until she came screaming once again.

When he finally raised his head, she had time only to see the triumphant gleam in his gaze

before a soft creak and a gust of air shattered their privacy.

The door to Club Evoke opened, and someone walked inside.

Kylie lay naked, spread-eagle on the bar, trembling in the aftermath of two incredible orgasms,

and utterly exposed to the view of whomever Finn now smiled at.

Chapter Four

“You were taking bloody forever, mate.”

Brad?

Kylie curled upright, her hands rising involuntarily to cover her chest, knees squeezing together.

Or they would have, if Finn hadn’t blocked them with his strong grasp.

“Not that we expected you to rush. Anything worth doing is worth doing well.”

Oh, my God, that was Hemi’s voice.

A click echoed through the bar, the sound of a lock turning.

She fought to see them clearly in the dim light shading the doorway as embarrassment heated

her face. Twin shadows stepped forward in unison, turning into the darkness and light that were her
other lovers. Finn slipped his arm around her, holding her close to his heated chest. Her focus remained
forward, searching Brad and Hemi’s faces as they approached for any sign of disappointment or anger.

All she saw was hunger.

“Before you panic, we bring gifts.” Brad lifted one hand to reveal a swath of shimmering

peach-colored fabric draped in a flowing mass. “Including something to wear.”

Kylie bit her lower lip to contain her questions as Brad helped her slip the silky soft garment up

one arm. When Finn took over, guiding the material over her back, her heart skipped a beat. Then Hemi,
who wore nothing but a sarong wrapped loosely around his hips, moved forward and finished the job.
He pulled the front halves together, carefully overlapping the robe over her breasts. His hands lingered,
stroking intimately even as he knotted the belt.

“Such wide eyes, ipo. Nothing is wrong—we just want to talk to you. Be with you.”

Brad took Hemi’s place, lifting her off the countertop to stand before him. He smoothed the

back of the robe over her bare butt, the lingering ache in her sex resuming its demand for attention as
he teased her tender flesh.

Oh God, all three of them were here. She was as good as naked and she wanted…

She didn’t know what.

Brad lifted her chin, his blue eyes sparkling at her. “We were talking, the three of us. We’ve each

told you individually that we have no issues with you seeing us all. Being involved with us, in bed and out
of it. Yet you don’t seem to understand that we’re serious.”

Finn caught her right hand and lifted it to his lips. “We wondered what it would take to convince

you.”

“Since telling you by ourselves didn’t work, we decided a joint effort was called for.” Hemi caged

her on the left, and the whole situation threatened to overwhelm her.

But only because she’d dreamed of it a million times already.

She was surrounded by them. The three men she’d played with, laughed with. Enjoyed life in the

few spare moments she’d allowed herself in the midst of all the work. The only lingering confusion had
been which of her lovers she would ultimately pick to remain with.

Was it really possible she didn't have to choose?

“What exactly do you mean by ‘joint effort’?” Kylie forced herself to speak as normally as

possible, but with each moment that passed, it grew more difficult.

They were touching her. All three of them, at the same time.

Touching her and studying her with undeniable…what? Desire? Love? Was it truly possible?

“We mean—” Brad’s lips curled into a slow smile, the expression mirrored by Hemi and Finn as

he flicked them both a quick glance, “—we’re going to make love to you.” He paused for a beat. “All of
us.”

“At once,” Finn murmured.

Kylie blinked. “At once?”

Hemi nodded. “At once.”

“To let you see you have no need to choose,” Brad finished.

Her heart slammed into her throat. Her pussy constricted. She didn’t know what to say. “I…” She

stopped. Licked her lips. Looked from one tall, gorgeous, sexy-arsed guy to the next. “I…”

“Need to stop talking,” Finn cupped her jaw with gentle fingers, his blue eyes clear in the club’s

muted lights. “And let us show you exactly what we are proposing.”

Without another word, he leaned towards her and placed his lips on hers, his tongue tracing the

edges of her teeth with a quick stroke before dipping deeper into her mouth. She stiffened, more than a
little shocked—bloody hell, Brad and Hemi were right there, watching.

But at Brad’s low groan, at Hemi’s murmured, “Karaiti, that is so hot,” the tension in her body

thawed. How could it not? The three men of her fantasies were all here, together. Bringing her ultimate
fantasy to life.

She lifted her arms, raising them to Finn’s broad, bare shoulders. The move felt so right. Just as

right as the feel of one of Brad’s hands sliding over her ribcage to her breast, his fingers finding her
pebbled nipple through the delicate fabric of her wrap.

Just as right as the feel of one of Hemi’s hands smoothing up the inside of her thigh to the

still-damp folds of her sex.

“Y’see—” Brad’s voice played with her senses, his fingers kneading the heavy swell of her breast

as Finn continued to worship her mouth with his lips and tongue, “—we know you think you need to
choose one of us…”

“…but you don’t.”

It was Hemi’s voice that finished the sentence. Hemi’s finger that slipped into her heat and

stroked her from within. A wicked rhythm echoed by Finn’s tongue mating with hers and Brad’s fingers
on her breast.

Kylie’s mind roared—pleasure and stunned shock making her head spin. She pulled back from

Finn’s masterful kiss, needing air. Needing…

What? Bloody hell, woman, what do you need that’s not standing right in this club with you?

That’s not offering you what you never believed you could have?

She swallowed, her mouth as dry as her pussy was wet. Huh, wet was an understatement, she

was that aroused. But she needed to know exactly what the situation was before continuing. As inviting
as throwing reality aside and going with the flow was, she needed to know details. Her organized
manager’s mind wouldn’t have it any other way.

“So what you’re saying—” she began, still clinging to Finn’s shoulders. Hemi’s fingers slipped

deeper into her sodden sex, making it hard to form rational thought. Or maybe it was Brad’s thumb
dragging back and forth over her distended nipple, “—is that all three of you are prepared to share me?”

“Words…” Brad rasped in her ear, “…aren’t adequate to tell you everything we want you to

know.”

Her heart leapt. “But—”

“Shhh.” Finn claimed her lips again. Only this time as she kissed him back, pouring her heart and

soul into the action, he pulled away and turned her—right into Hemi’s embrace.

“Ipo,” he breathed before melding his mouth to hers. His tongue stroked, as did his finger,

enticingly, deliciously. She spread her legs wider, took him deeper.

The caresses on her breasts intensified. Her left breast was in Brad’s hand, his thumb brushing

her nipple, the contact so sweet, so hot. The slinky robe tortured her other nipple as Brad suckled
through the silk—

Ohhh!

Sharp, erotic pain ricocheted through her chest, followed by wet heat.

He worshipped her breast, kissing. Nipping. Biting. Soothing, easing.

She moaned the instant Hemi released her lips.

Brad claimed her mouth. His tongue stroked over hers, his hands playing erotic games with her

breasts. Hemi’s finger—fingers—delved ever deeper, ever more electrifying. Finn pressed close behind
her. His lips found her neck, kissed her…

Hands on legs. Finn’s hands. Tickling, rubbing, massaging. Higher, on my thighs, pushing the

robe aside. On my arse. Oh God…

Brad’s lips seduced, his hands aroused. Hemi’s fingers sought, found, played havoc with her

senses.

Something cold and wet touched her ass. She yelped.

“Shh,” Finn whispered. “Relax into it, baby.”

He eased his finger between her butt cheeks, sliding over her most sensitive spot. Kylie’s knees

trembled, threatened to collapse beneath her. She melted into Finn’s touch, opening for him, inviting
him in. Sensation flowed through her veins like a drug.

Bloody hell. One man in her mouth. One in her pussy. One in her arse. All three of them.

Together. Like they’d promised. Bloody heaven.

Her spine tingled. Goose bumps covered her flesh. Close. So close. She could come, just like this.

Would come. She wanted to come. Wanted to laugh and cry and sigh. Wanted to…

Just wanted. Brad, Hemi and Finn. All of them.

Hemi’s rich laughter echoed through the room. He knew—he sensed how close she was. “Not so

fast, ipo. We’ve waited days for this. Weeks. We intend to make it count. For all of us.”

Kylie shuddered as she tried to control her desires. “I want to come.”

“You will.” Finn slid another finger inside her, pleasuring her, readying her.

“We all will.” Hemi nodded. “You, me, Brad and Finn. Together.” His breath escaped in slow

gasps. “I’m going to come right here.” He plunged his fingers inside her, making her groan out loud.

Finn pressed his erection against her hip, showing her the effect Hemi and Brad’s words had on

him. “I’m gonna take your arse, baby, just the way you like. Fuck you until we all come screaming.”

Her groan was a shuddery wisp of air. She instinctively looked at Brad.

He dragged his thumb over her swollen lips. “I’ll be in your mouth. With your lips wrapped

around my cock, sucking me.”

Moist heat dripped from her pussy, drenching Hemi’s hand. “Yes,” she moaned. “God, yes!”

“All of us.”

“Inside you.”

“Loving you.”

“Together.”

Why didn’t the room spontaneously explode? The heat between them rose higher, the flames

flickering over her skin catching her on fire. Everywhere they touched ignited and heated until she
simply could not wait another second.

“Yes. Yes!”

They led her across the room, never letting her go, touching and teasing until they reached one

of the large couches at the edge of the dance floor. Hemi sat, his massive body sinking into the leather,
his already condom-clad cock rising skyward like a pagan phallic altar. “Come,” he said with a slow smile.
“I want you on me. It’s time.”

It was so far past time Kylie’s brain was ready to stop functioning. She crawled on top of him,

one hand pressed against his muscular chest as she slid over his shaft. The liquid from her body coated
him, the wide flared head nicking her clit and making her body scream even harder for release.

As she rocked back, he slipped through her folds, and they both groaned in appreciation. Hard,

thick—she had to work him into her body a little at a time. When she finally had him all the way buried
in her core she was so close to climaxing she clung to his shoulders, staring into his eyes as she fought
for control.

She bit her lip.

Held her breath.

She was not coming alone. They were in this, together. All of them. They’d climax together. All

four of them. From the look on his face, Hemi appeared as simultaneously aroused and in pain as she
did.

Finn stepped behind them, his hands firm on her hips.

“Ready for me?”

Always. She nodded and he slipped a finger between her ass cheeks. The cool moisture of

additional lube warmed quickly against her skin.

“Kiss me,” Hemi ordered. “Let me have your lips as you let him in.”

His intoxicating mouth was barely enough to keep her from crying out as Finn stepped between

Hemi’s legs and placed his hard shaft to her body. Pressed forward firmly. Inexorably opening her.
Speared down on Hemi’s cock, there was nowhere to retreat, nowhere she could move to escape the
mixture of burning pain and exhilarating pleasure Finn forced on her.

Full didn’t begin to describe what she was experiencing.

Finn’s next words did.

“Bloody perfect.” He grunted softly as his groin met her ass, his fingers digging in tight to her

hips where he clutched her. A shiver raced over her skin at the realization two men were in her body. A
third moving to stand to the side of the couch, his cock jutting proudly from a nest of dark curls.

Brad stroked a knuckle over her cheek. “How you doing, love?”

Finn slowly withdrew, dragging his cock against heated nerve-endings and a squeak escaped her

lips—something between pleasure, pain and acknowledgement of contentment with her lot.

Brad laughed. “Sounds good to me.”

He wrapped his fist tight around his cock and pumped—one long stroke from root to tip. As his

hand continued to move, one pulse after another, Finn and Hemi matched his pace. Finding a rhythm as
one retreated, the other stuffed her full. There were so many sensations to take in—Hemi’s hands
cupping and squeezing her breasts, Finn’s constant massage on her hips.

Fingers threaded through her hair as Brad stepped next to the armrest and directed his cock at

her mouth. Kylie opened eagerly, lapping at the salty fluid welling from the slit. He braced her head and
filled her, lips stretching wide around his girth.

Hemi and Finn stilled, allowing Kylie time to find her rhythm with Brad, to love him with her

mouth as carnally as she loved Finn with her arse and Hemi with her pussy.

She sucked hard, taking Brad as far into her mouth as possible. She thrust her hips back on Finn,

needing his thrusts again, needing Hemi’s.

Four people, moving as one. Three of them inside her. Loving her.

The knowledge was heady, intoxicating. God, she was ready to come. Now.

No. Not just come. She was ready to be reborn. In the fire of their desire for her and the inferno

of pleasure that desire wrought on her.

She was theirs. She belonged to these three amazing men who all wanted to be with her. Sex

with them individually had been unbelievable. Sex with all of them…making love with all of them?
Soul-changing!

Her head swam, the constricting heat in her core rolling through her. Building, mounting,

possessing her with every movement and moan from the three men of her heart.

Ah, fuck, she was going to come. She was going to—

Her orgasm smashed through her, an incinerating blaze of rapture. And as she came, her men

did as well. All three groaning, their hips bucking, driving their cocks deep into her. Who was first? She
didn’t know. Didn’t care.

“Ipo.” Hemi pumped into her sex, his fierce warrior’s eyes staring into hers. “Kei te aroha au i a

koe. Kei te aroha au i a koe.”

Finn drove into her ass, stretching her to a place beyond pain and pleasure. “Baby, ah fuck,

baby. Love you.”

Brad filled her mouth with the thick, heated force of possession and submission—giving her his

seed in warm spurts that coated the back of her throat, his wordless moans as potent and powerful as
Hemi and Finn’s raw declarations.

And as all four came together, as orgasm after orgasm shuddered through Kylie, as her men’s

hands and mouths and bodies propelled her even higher, one question whispered through her mind:
could this really be hers forever?

“That’s up to you,” Brad rasped. His eyes remained closed in post-orgasmic bliss, but one hand

touched her cheek tenderly, caressing it.

She must have voiced her thoughts out loud when he withdrew his cock from her mouth.

“We want it.” Hemi kissed her throat. His massive member was still sheathed inside her, but

softening now. “All three of us. Now you must answer the question. Do you?”

His words from earlier drifted through her mind. She spoke them out loud, reverently. “Mauria

tēnei tautau i nga wā katoa hai whakaturi. What does that mean?”

It was Finn who answered. “Wear this pendant always as a love token.” His breath hitched then,

and an agonized groan followed as he slid from her body.

“Y-you understand Maori?” she asked on a moan, her arse twitching with aftershocks.

“Just this sentence, baby. Hemi told us.”

“Us?” She looked over her shoulder, bemused.

“Remember Brad said we come bearing gifts?” Finn slipped something into her hand. Something

small, thin and cool.

A tiny, silver charm lay on her palm, attached to a simple leather necklace.

“The bandicoot,” Kylie breathed, enchanted.

She’d seen it yesterday, in Finn’s rooms. He’d found it at a curio shop just before coming to the

island and seen it as a symbol of good luck. Toy ’roos and koalas were a dime a dozen, he’d explained,
but he’d never seen a bandicoot before. Coincidence? He’d thought not.

“I was right about it.” Finn murmured. “It was my good luck charm. It brought me to you.” He

kissed her lips. “I’d like you to have it.”

She closed her hand around the charm, holding it tight. “I’d love that.” She knew exactly what

she’d do with it too. Slip Brad’s key and Hemi’s shell on the leather thong and wear it around her neck,
the three pendants remaining close to her heart.

Awe filled her. The very simplicity of her men’s gifts meant more than expensive, meaningless

presents ever could. Her men had banded together to give her something—three things—they knew she
would treasure forever.

How was it, that in just a few short months, they’d gotten to know her so well? How had they

all, each one of them, managed to capture her heart so completely?

“I love you, Kylie,” Brad said. The truth of his words shone from his eyes. “We all do. Nothing

would make us happier than knowing you’d be willing to accept us, all of us, as yours.”

“Love us, ipo. Love us separately and love us together. Just…love us.”

“Please.” Finn’s plea was her undoing.

A massive lump formed in Kylie’s throat. “I do. I-I love you too. All of you. So damn much.” Her

hands trembled. “I was so scared I’d have to choose one of you. I knew I couldn’t. Could never pick one
over the other two. You all mean too much to me. And nothing would make me happier than proving
that to all three of you. Separately and together.”

They surrounded her again. Gave her their warmth, their caring. The incredible indulgence of

having three men’s complete love enveloped her, and Kylie threw open her heart and accepted.

About the Authors

Vivian Arend continues to travel through the wilderness looking for stories. Her works include

paranormal and contemporary romance, always with the heat turned up and a happily ever after. Reach
her at [e-mail] or drop by www.vivianarend.com for more information on what’s coming
next.

Lexxie’s not a deviant. She just has a deviant’s imagination and a desire to entertain readers

with her words. Add the two together and you get sinfully wicked romances. Living in Australia makes it
a bit tricky for Lexxie to pop by for a coffee, but she still loves to chat! Contact her at
[e-mail] or find her at www.lexxiecouper.com.

Jess Dee loves two things: romance and food. Is it any wonder she specializes in dee-liciously

sexy romance? Jess loves hearing from readers. You can email her at [e-mail] or find her at
www.jessdee.com.

Look for these titles by Vivian Arend, Lexxie Couper and Jess Dee

By Vivian Arend

Turn It On

Turn It Up

Falling, Freestyle

Rising, Freestyle

By Lexxie Couper

Savage Retribution

Savage Transformation

The Sun Sword

Death, The Vamp and His Brother

Triple Dare

By Jess Dee

Only Tyler

Steve’s Story

Going All In

Raising the Stakes

Full House

Winter Fire

Bandicoot Cove

Paradise Found by Vivian Arend

Tropical Sin by Lexxie Couper

Island Idyll by Jess Dee

Fate is a wind that can change at the drop of a heart…

Paradise Found

© 2011 Vivian Arend

Bandicoot Cove, Book 2

Paige has enjoyed every no-strings-attached minute with her two Australian lovers, Trent and

Mason. Over the past eleven months, they’ve surfed, hiked…and explored their seemingly limitless
sexual chemistry.

Her lovers’ invitation to the opening of a new resort comes at the ideal time, because in a few

days she’s returning to Canada. It’ll be a fitting swan song for their easygoing relationship. A chance to
fulfill a few fantasies and then escape before her men realize she’s broken the rules by falling in love
with them both. Better to take flight than be forced to choose.

Unaware of Paige’s self-imposed deadline, Trent and Mason scheme to get Paige on their yacht

for a once-in-a-lifetime voyage with one goal in mind: break the news that they’re ready for something
more than casual—and hope she doesn’t run like hell.

It’s a delicate operation that’ll require close attention to which way her emotional winds are

blowing. One wrong word, and their paradise-perfect arrangement could be lost in an instant.

Warning: This book starts with the heat turned way up high. Two men entirely focused on one

woman’s pleasure. One woman stepping outside the box to please her men. An exotic resort suite
featuring an erotic piece of furniture that makes ménage a trois even hotter than usual. Really.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Paradise Found:

Paige stared him in the eye. “Sex in a pan.”

He laughed. “That’s the dessert?”

“The name is a mutation from six in a pan, for the original six layers, but the taste is downright

orgasmic, if you make it right.” She ran a finger along the edge of the bowl, scooped up a smear of the
chocolate sauce onto her fingertip and offered it to him.

He swallowed hard.

“This isn’t a good time for you to stop what you’re doing, is it?” He forced the words past a

throat suddenly tight with need.

She shook her head.

Fuckit. He sucked her finger into his mouth and moaned. The dessert was tasty, but having her

finger to suck and tease, to be able to watch her eyes widen and hear her breath catch as he twirled his
tongue around the digit? Torture.

He let her pull back, her finger escaping with a pop. He shook off the haze of lust threatening the

production of the delicacies. Hold off, caveman.

Instead, he grinned at her. “If they’re individual sex servings, does that make them masturbation

pies?”

Paige rolled her eyes. “God. You are not helping me name them.”

“Jerk tarts?”

“Trent!”

“Cream—”

The shot of, appropriately enough—whipped cream—hit him in the mouth, and he sputtered to

a stop, eyeing her evilly.

She lowered the piping bag, fists dropping to her hips. “Behave. Let me pop these crusts in the

oven, and then we can talk about your fascination with self-pleasure.”

Hmm, now there’s an idea. Not his pleasure, but hers. That was something he could get into. He

stepped back complacently, licking his lips. Paige poked him as she passed by to re-wash her hands
thoroughly. She returned to the counter, working quickly with the pastry dough. Effortlessly, she formed
intricate flowerlike cups, one after another resting on the paper lining the cookie sheets.

He studied her face, loving the way her intent concentration made a tiny furrow appear

between her eyes. She was smiling, nodding as she placed another edible art form onto the tray, and he
realized this was a form of artistic expression. The beauty she created not only pleased the eyes but the
palate and all the rest of his senses. She was a fully sensual creature, and he loved being around her.
Enthusiasm and sensuality shone through everything she did.

He couldn’t be any more certain. This thing between them was far more than a physical

attraction. He was head-over-fucking-heels with the slim seductress. He would do everything he could to
make sure she stayed in his life—even if it meant a few more unusual solutions, like those offered by
Mason’s gung-ho, madcap, anything-goes, both-feet-forward attitude.

Hmm, an attitude that was remarkably like Paige’s.

“I bet that’s why you guys get along so well.”

She straightened after placing the second pan in the oven, that little secretive smile teasing the

corner of her mouth again. “What are you talking about? Who?”

“You and Mason. You’re both totally open and game for anything.”

Paige’s heartbeat leaped upward again as he caught her fingers. She’d slipped them under the

faucet, adding a shot of soap to clean off the butter clinging to them. He lathered her up, threading his
fingers through hers, his touch firm and yet sexual as he touched each digit in turn. Her mouth went
absolutely dry.

They didn’t seem to be able to be in the same room without wanting each other. “You’re not

such a prude yourself, Trent.”

He crowded closer, his arms caging her, hands rocking over hers again and again. Splashes rose

to soak the front of her blouse. He planted kisses along her neckline, and she leaned to the side to allow
him to maneuver.

Instead he spun her and locked his lips on hers. Oh Lord, she couldn’t think when he did that

thing with his tongue. Taking total control of her mouth as if he were starving and only she could satisfy
his hunger. He licked and nibbled and explored—ownership in every touch. The sound of the running
water grew faint below the roaring of the blood in her ears. His wet hands slipped onto her back, the
fabric sticking to her skin. He held her by the upper arms and slowly separated their bodies, his lips
clinging with heat and moisture until the last possible second.

They stared at each other. She knew she was grinning, and the expression on his face—sheer

happiness. As if he was exactly where he wanted to be, and life was good.

She’d put that expression in his eyes, at least partially, and for one wild second she nearly

blurted out that she loved him.

“Knock knock.”

They both spun toward the door, Trent settling her tightly against his chest. The warmth of his

body heated the wet spots on her clothing.

Mason raised a brow as he approached. “Am I interrupting? Fair dinkum, it smells delicious in

here.”

“Paige is cooking up a storm.”

Mason walked the length of the room with any hesitation, not stopping until he was pressed

firmly against her.

“She always cooks up the most mouth-watering mischief.” He lifted her chin with his fingers and

kissed her. A momentary buss on the lips, just enough for her to taste him, tease her senses. “What’s
next on the menu? That’s what I want to know.”

He dipped his head again and took his time opening her lips to his caress. A series of small kisses

along her jaw, a butterfly soft touch to the corner of her mouth. A tantalizing stroke of his tongue over
her lower lip.

A low level of excitement and delight accompanied his teasing touch. She was totally

surrounded, boxed in by two solid male torsos. Trent’s erection pressed hard into her right butt cheek,
and the longer Mason kissed her, the more his interest rose as well. She tangled her fingers in his hair
and held him tight. Twisted her hips slightly, rubbing both of them, slow and deliberate. She might be
encircled, but she still had a say in this adventure. It looked as if there was no need to prolong the wait
for one of her favorite parts.

Being totally cared for by two men. Four hands bringing her delight, stroking and guiding her

pleasure in ways she’d never dreamed possible before getting involved with them.

Paige pulled her lips free and Mason leaned his forehead against hers. Trent’s fingers caressed

her hip slowly. They both waited, patiently. Time paused, their three bodies slowly becoming more
attuned to each other as their breathing synchronized. Her anticipation rose—there was some specific
mischief she had in mind, although it was actually Mason who was the engineer of this afternoon’s
coming escapade.

She could hardly wait to see him explain the sex chair that graced the center of their suite.

Forget the details of how it got there, she wanted to know everything possible about using the chair
itself.

It takes more than a rock star to rock your world. Sometimes you need a friend.

Tropical Sin

© 2011 Lexxie Couper

Bandicoot Cove, Book 3

McKenzie Wood has just spied her ticket out of tabloid journalism. A rumor-shrouded rock star

who thinks he’s incognito at Bandicoot Cove resort. With a little help from her BFF she’ll be on her way
to serious work in no time. Aiden’s perfect for the job—pulse-pounding gorgeous, and probably gay.
After all, she’s never seen him date anyone.

Aiden Rogers admits it’s pretty damned pathetic that he can rush into burning buildings, but not

have the guts to tell McKenzie he’s in love with her. No way can he tell his best friend he’d like to do
some seriously sinful things to her, especially since she’s never shown one iota of sexual interest.

Nick Blackthorne looks forward to some “unfamous” down-time in his home country. He’s

surprised to find his creative muse stirred—more like brought to rigid attention—by a couple so sexy
that all he can think about is the three of them. Together.

Three bodies move together as one, and the music becomes a smoldering beat that rivals the

island’s heat. When the truth inevitably comes out, the heat might be enough to save three souls…or
end up just another sinner’s lament.

Warning: One plus one plus one equals OMG sex, are-you-freaking-kidding-me orgasms and

some serious mind-blowing climaxes.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Tropical Sin:

“Aidan…” she whispered, wishing she could see inside his head. Was this just sex for him? Or

something else? Something…

“You truly have no idea how long I’ve ached for this, Mack.”

His proclamation, spoken with an almost dazed disbelief, sent a shiver through her. Not just

through her sex, but through her. All of her.

“What?” She needed to know. “What have you ached for?”

“You.”

The answer was simple. Honest.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because I almost…because the thought of you rejecting me…” He left the sentences unfinished,

but what he didn’t say made her belly flip.

Oh, God. This wasn’t just two friends fooling around now. This was…huge.

“If you want me to stop…” he continued, dragging his hands up her waist only to halt them at

the curve of her ribcage just below her breasts. His face was tight with tension, his jaw clenched. “I will.
But you need to tell me now.”

Stop? Was he kidding?

Her reaction was instant and raw and it told her what her stupid brain couldn’t. The second he’d

even uttered the word “stop” she knew she didn’t want him to.

She buried her fingers in his choppy mess of hair to stare into his eyes. “If you stop, I will be

forced to slap you senseless.”

A soft chuckle vibrated through him, the dimples in his cheeks flashing into existence. “I thought

of doing something else to you until you were senseless only a little while ago.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him, rolling her hips again in an attempt to stroke her sex over the

confined pole of his cock. Damn, she wanted to feel that inside her. Wanted it so much she actually
ached. “And what was that, Rogers?”

His eyes twinkled green fire. “This.”

He spun her away from the door and, three strides later, threw her on to the suite’s main bed, a

massive king-sized number covered in silk and cushions. She squealed in shocked delight, the sound
captured by his mouth as he dropped on top of her.

His hands roamed her torso, up to her throat, back down to her hips. He squeezed her arse

cheeks before raking one hand down the back of her thigh and tugging her leg up. She willingly obeyed
his unspoken direction, wrapping her leg around his hip to grind her pussy up and down his
still-constrained cock.

“I want to make love to you, Mack.” His breath was ragged, his eyes ablaze. “Right now.” He

slipped one hand under the hemline of her shirt, his fingers brushing her bare flesh beneath.

She sucked in a swift gasp, the contact somehow more electric, more arousing than any she’d

ever had before.

Of course it is, McKenzie. This isn’t just anyone. This is Aidan. The guy’s had your heart in his

pocket since you were kids. Even if you didn’t know it.

She whimpered, bringing her hand to his as she arched her back. She wanted him to touch her

breasts. Not just touch them, but cup them, squeeze them. She wanted to feel the callused strength of
his hands mold her soft flesh, hands skilled in extinguishing heat now on the verge of setting her on fire.
She wanted to feel him possess her.

“Then what the hell are you waiting any longer for?” she asked, directing his hand up to her

breast. Over it.

“Oh, God, McKenzie.” He moaned, his body stiffening as his fingers found her pleasure-swollen

flesh.

He dragged his thumb over her rock-hard nipple, teasing it through the thin lace of her bra. It

puckered harder to his touch, as if it too said, “Yes, why have you taken so long to do this?”

Her breaths grew shallow, more rapid with every stroke of his thumb pad. But it wasn’t enough.

It was torture.

“Please…”

Like he always knew when she wanted popcorn at the movies, like he always knew when she

needed chocolate, like he always always knew when she needed to hear his voice and called her from
the fire station, now it seemed he knew exactly what she wanted him to do to her.

God, it was wonderful. More than wonderful. It was amazing. Sublime. It was…

Right. So goddamn right.

His erection pressing to the sodden junction of her thighs, Aidan hooked the edge of her bra

with his fingers, and with one swift move of his arm, pulled the lace from her breast and raised her shirt
up her torso.

He looked at what he’d revealed for a short—and at the same time, agonizingly long—second

before his gaze found her face. “Are you sure?” he whispered, the words almost strangled.

Was she? This wasn’t just a quick fuck. Not even a one-night stand—well, a one-morning stand.

There was no coming back from this. Sex with Aidan. Everything changed after that. Whether it was
good or horrendously bad, it changed everything.

Horrendously bad? Are you serious? You’ve never felt so freaking aroused, so consumed

with…with…hell, so consumed with real pleasure and all he’s done is kiss you.

Was she sure?

She nodded, swallowing at the thick anticipation rising in her throat. “I’ve never been surer.”

The muscles in his body tensed, his nostrils flared again, and then he lowered his head and took

her nipple in his mouth.

Exquisite pleasure shot through her, and she cried out, her pussy not just throbbing but

contracting with such eager want she thrust her hips harder to his body. She’d had her breasts sucked
before, but what Aidan was doing…

His tongue rolled over her nipple, short stabbing strokes followed by shorter, sharper sucks that

sent shards of squirming pressure straight through her. She moaned, fisting her hands in his hair and
shoving her sex closer to his cock. “Oh, Aidan…” She closed her eyes, close to sensory overload. “That
feels…”

“I’m in hell here, Mack,” he growled, his lips and breath hot on her breast. “I want to make this

last forever—for as long as I’ve wanted to do it—but I’m so close to coming…”

The torment she heard in his voice, the raw truth, flayed McKenzie’s tenuous control. God, why

had she never known he felt this way? Why hadn’t she realized she felt the same? Her pussy squeezed a
cock that wasn’t there. She opened her eyes and gazed up at him, the pain etching his face, the desire,
making her sex flood.

She’d always been one for foreplay. Long sessions of foreplay followed by longer sessions of

fucking, but Aidan—as always—seemed to know exactly what she needed. She needed him inside her.
Now.

“Sixteen years of foreplay and I didn’t even know it,” she murmured.

Aidan’s jaw bunched, his cock nudging her sex with a jerking spasm. “I fucking did.”

She laughed, a shallow burst of awestruck breath, and he seized on the moment to rise up

between her legs, grab the waistline of her shorts and yank them off her body, taking her sodden undies
with them.

“I’m going to fuck you with my tongue later,” he rasped, tossing her clothing aside, his voice not

altogether steady. “I promise, but right now…”

He tore open his fly, his cock springing free of its imprisonment immediately. McKenzie’s breath

left her in a whimpering moan. God, he was huge.

Precome glistened on the tip of his shaft, a perfect bead of pleasure. Her mouth filled with

moisture at the thought of licking it off with her tongue.

Later. Later. But now…now…

Adolescent fantasies can grow into very adult realities.

Island Idyll

© 2011 Jess Dee

Bandicoot Cove, Book 4

Sienna James has come to Bandicoot Cove to mourn the end of her eight-year relationship with

Ben Cowley. The last person she expects to meet is the star of every one of her high school fantasies.

Joshua Lye is not only as appealing as he was in high school, he reveals she was the main feature

in his adolescent wet dreams. As kids they never got it together. But they’re adults now, and there’s
nothing keeping them apart.

When Ben arrives at the resort determined to win Sienna back, finding another man in her bed

kind of throws a spanner in the works. But he isn’t deterred. Rather than admit defeat, he comes up
with an alternative plan: Let Sienna sleep with both men—at the same time. Then she can make an
informed decision as to which man she wants.

Sienna shouldn’t want to go through with this shockingly sexy plan, but she does. Desperately.

Except after the sexual storm passes, she could have it all…or be left holding an empty heart.

Warning: Contains a suggestion beyond risqué, a solution beyond orgasmic, and two men who

know how to play dirty. Really, really dirty.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Island Idyll:

“My room is just down there.” She pointed, her voice breathless.

Ah. A beachside bungalow. Figured. Kylie would have saved the best for her best friends. His

own suite was situated in the staff quarters. Nothing to sneeze at, but a million miles away from here.
“Condoms are in my room,” he told her, wondering why the fuck he didn’t carry one around in his
pocket at all times.

New rule. From this second on always carry a condom. Always. No question.

Her lips curved into a sexy grin. “I have some.”

He faltered midstep. “You do?”

“There’s a box in the bathroom. Compliments of the hotel.”

“So, they’re not yours?”

She shook her head.

Unquestionable relief stole through him. They weren’t hers. Which meant she hadn’t come here

with the intention of having sex.

“I didn’t think to bring any,” she confessed. Her lips twitched as she looked on ahead, steering

him towards her bungalow. “I don’t usually use condoms with my vibrator.”

Josh tripped. Over his own feet. Fuck, she hadn’t even blushed when she’d said that.

Sienna turned to steady him. “You okay?”

Christ, the way her eyes danced, mischief painted all over her delectable face, her freckles

standing out… “You said that on purpose,” he accused. “Just to get a reaction out of me.”

Why on earth had he ever thought her eyes were the color of a summer sky? Right now they

looked black. Her pupils were enormous, dark spheres rimmed with navy.

“Did I get a reaction?” she asked with the tiniest hint of a smirk.

Jesus, what happened to the naïve kid he’d known in school? “Did you want one?”

She shrugged sweetly. “Only if it promises more satisfaction than my vibrator.”

Enough.

He couldn’t take another second of her teasing. Of her subtle scent that drifted through his nose

with hints of cinnamon. Of her creamy white skin, so silky, just begging to be touched. He couldn’t take
one more second.

With more speed than he knew he possessed, he backed her up against the trunk of a palm tree,

stepped in close—so close she’d have no doubt of the satisfaction his response could provide—and
slanted his mouth over hers.

The little minx was ready for him, her lips soft, warm, welcoming and…parted.

Holy fuck! She’d parted her lips for him, inviting his tongue in, leaving the hot, sweet cavern of

her mouth open to his exploration.

Her taste hit him with the force of a cannonball, smashing into his chest, winding him. Sweet

and tangy, like strawberries and rum. And salty, like the sea air. Innocence, mischief and…sadness, all
rolled into one.

He could taste all that on her tongue? Sadness? Why?

Then she whimpered against his lips, and his thoughts scattered. She twined a leg around his,

hooking her foot around his ankle, pressing her groin into his and lining her pussy up with his cock.

He hadn’t been kidding earlier when he’d said if she’d touched him, even once, when they were

younger, it’d have been game over in a second. Suddenly he was that horny kid all over again. The
determined teenager, aroused and desperate for a taste of her, a feel of her, knowing he could never
have her.

She slid her hand between their bodies, cupping his dick through his boardies, making him groan

savagely into her mouth.

The sound must have motivated her. Less than a second later the same hand was dipping

beneath the waistband of his shorts and caressing his bare, aching penis. Here, in the open, standing just
on the side of a public pathway, where God knew who could walk past. Anyone.

Anyone. And she was holding his dick in her palm, petting it.

Christ. Fuck. Holy shit.

She was in his arms, pressing her body against him, wrapping her hand around his erection, and

damned if he wasn’t on the verge of ending the game right now.

He wrenched his lips from hers, his eyes scrunched shut, pain shooting through his balls.

Fuck, release. He needed release. Needed to come.

“Let go. Quick,” he rasped. Whoa. Close. Way too close. “Say something, anything. Get my mind

off fucking you, or it’s not gonna happen.”

Her hand was an instrument of torture, releasing him in tiny, tormenting strokes. Her breath

came in shallow gasps, her breasts scraping against his chest with every inhalation.

Not helping. Not one little bit. “Princess, fuck, say something.”

With a long, breathy sigh, she released him, extricating her hand from his pants. “I…I’m getting

married.”

He clenched his teeth, willing his orgasm into retreat mode, mulling over her words, trying to

make sense of them.

Married.

Married?

His erection died a sudden, effective death. Her confession slapped him clean across the face.

Josh stumbled back. “Married?”

No way. No fucking way.

What was he then? Some last minute entertainment before the big day? The last hurrah? A

quick spin to tie up any childhood loose ends?

Sienna’s face creased with sorrow.

“You’re getting married, and you’re here? Doing this? With me?” Irrational fury surged through

him.

Tears pooled in her eyes. She shook her head. “No. I’m not.”

Josh glared, his thoughts reeling. “Jesus, Sienna, what the fuck kind of a game are you playing

with me?”

“No game. I’m not getting married.” Her voice trembled.

“You said—”

“You told me to say something.”

He smacked his fist into his forehead. Christ, he had. He’d practically yelled at her. “So…so

you’re not getting married.”

A tear spilled over onto her cheek. “No.” She shook her head. “Not anymore.”

Exotic Indulgence

Vivian Arend, Lexxie Couper and Jess Dee

It’s time for an indulgence, or two…or three.

Bandicoot Cove, Book 1

There’s something magical about Bandicoot Cove. It’s where Kylie Sullivan’s dream of managing

a luxury, five-star resort is about to come true. And it’s where people tend to fall in love. Kylie should
know. She’s fallen hard—for three very different men.

There’s Brad, who knows just how to relieve her stress and send her body on a crash course

through pleasure. Hemi, her untamed Maori, who awakens her primitive side. And Finn, the sexy
bartender whose specialty is Screaming Orgasms.

The three men fulfill all her sexual fantasies, but Kylie knows reality will eventually set in and

she’ll have to choose. But how? For now she decides not to decide—at least until she makes sure the
resort’s soft opening comes off without a hitch.

As far as Brad, Hemi and Finn are concerned, Kylie’s life is too much work and not enough play.

The only choice they plan to give her is to say yes to their wildly passionate proposal…

Warning: Three sexy men pleasing one uninhibited woman—how much more warning do you

need? This short story is long on heat, with a drool-worthy setting and sexual interludes in the office, at
the beach and the bar. You want a day job like this.

eBooks are not transferable.

They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this

work.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the

writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance

to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

Macon GA 31201

Exotic Indulgence

Copyright © 2011 by Vivian Arend, Lexxie Couper, and Jess Dee

ISBN: 978-1-60928-516-6

Edited by Jennifer Miller

Cover by Kanaxa

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner

whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical

articles and reviews.

First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: August 2011

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Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

About the Authors

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