Addiction

by Calista Fox

  “What we wanted,” Nate explained, “was to be with you. When we follow our dreams, Liv, our hearts . . . they lead straight to you.”

  “Nate,” she said on a rush of air, tears prickling the backs of her eyes. “You would go wherever I went?”

  “In a heartbeat,” Tristan assured her. “From here on out—if that’s what you want.”

  “Know that means so much to me,” she told them as teardrops crested the rims of her eyes.

  “You mean so much to us,” Nate said.

  Liv fanned her face with a hand. This night was getting better and better. She never would have asked them to move on her account. Knowing they would, though . . . that made her fall even more in love with them.

  But . . .

  She brushed the backs of her fingers along her cheek to whisk away some of the tears.

  Liv said, “I don’t want you to move to New York.”

  Tristan’s grin faded. Nate shifted from one booted foot to the other, confusion clouding his gorgeous green eyes.

  Liv hastily said, “If you did, we’d still be on opposite coasts.”

  “Wait . . . What is it that you want?” Tristan cautiously asked.

  With a smile, Liv told them, “I want to stay in Bayfront. This is my home and I love it here. I want to form my own band and be the yacht club’s in-house performer. I want to be on that stage every night—or close to that. I want to be surrounded by my friends and the ocean. Mostly . . . I want you. Both of you. Right here with me.”

  Nate swept her into his strong arms and held her tightly. She kissed him. A long, passionate kiss—and Liv didn’t give a damn who saw. When Nate released her, Tristan embraced her and she let his kiss sear her the way Nate’s had. If they set the rumor mill on fire, who the hell cared?

  This three-way love affair had been a long, long time in the making. And Liv had a niggling suspicion everyone in Bayfront already knew that.

  Epilogue

  “Wow.” Liv whispered the word on a stream of air.

  “Good Lord,” Fallon murmured.

  “Shh,” Sylvia quietly chastised. Then added, “But, yeah. Holy shit.”

  Liv stood in her designated spot at the altar, which was positioned on the second-story terrace of the mansion Nick shared with Hunter and Roxy. The enormous Sterling Silver and white rose bouquets—some standing, some in tall floor vases—were pure perfection. As were all the decorations and the dozens of blazing candles in hurricane glasses.

  But nothing compared to Chloe as she appeared at the top of the curving staircase in a dress that deserved its own Oscar.

  Her blond hair was swept up in an intricate style, a glittery tiara nestled in the silky strands. Chloe’s face was beautifully made up and even though she clearly tried to maintain her composure, her Gilmore Girls “Sookie” dimples couldn’t be contained.

  And the gown . . .

  “All those gems are real,” Sylvia privately added.

  The strapless bodice was comprised of shimmering silver lace with scalloped edges and accented with small amethysts and diamonds. It stretched along her flat stomach and her shapely hips before flaring into a full, glamorous skirt of silvery feathers that sparkled as vibrantly as the bejeweled bodice. The train was a good eight feet long and trailed fantastically behind Chloe as she slowly made her way down the stairs.

  The guests were riveted. Liv didn’t have to take her eyes from the bride to know that the groom was equally entranced.

  How could he not be?

  Chloe was a vision no future bride ever wanted to compete with.

  She approached the aisle runner and Hunter was there to escort her. Quite dashing, as usual. As were all the groomsmen in their white tuxedoes with silver satin vests and matching ascots. A nice complement to Liv’s and Fallon’s one-shouldered slim lavender satin gowns, with glimmering silver appliques flowing from the outer swell of their right breasts, over their bellies, and down the left side of the material that pooled at their feet—the overlay Ruby had incorporated.

  Sylvia wore a silver dress, also satin, with a similar applique, though with the addition of amethyst accents.

  Hunter placed Chloe’s hand in John’s. John looked so deep in awe, Liv wasn’t quite sure he was ever going to recover.

  The officiant cleared his throat twice. John was still hypnotized by his bride. Liv shared a smile with Nate and Tristan. And felt the emotions crash in on her again.

  As the sun was setting, the sky awash with purple and fuchsia, the ceremony got underway. Rings and vows were exchanged. Tears ensued. And then John was kissing Chloe and the guests were clapping and whistling. As was the bridal party.

  Following the procession up the aisle and the endless photographs, a small group of best friends gathered on the terrace overlooking the grounds before they joined the reception.

  Wisteria trees in full bloom covered the lush green, manicured grass. The delicately sculpted topiary was trimmed with more wisteria and calla lilies. The outer borders were lined with oaks and the Spanish moss Georgia-native Chloe loved. In the distance, the ocean reflected the colors still lingering on the horizon as the sun sank below it and the sultry breeze carried with it a rich floral aroma infused with the warm, salty scent of summer.

  When all of her friends had their glasses of champagne in hand, Liv raised hers. “Here’s to the most beautiful wedding I have ever seen, the most beautiful bride, the most generous and adoring groom, and the most perfect match ever made in heaven.”

  “Here, here,” Nate said.

  They all clinked rims and sipped.

  Chloe and John were married. Sylvia had her dream of owning a spa; Seth had revived his family legacy; and Noah was about to open a world-class hotel. Jax’s and Lex’s tribute CD to a woman they’d once loved and lost, and the woman who’d brought them back to life, was an international success—and the latter, Lily, their sole inspiration. Fallon had every wish of hers come true from business aspirations to landing her two best friends, Devon and Morgan. Both men were hopelessly devoted to her. Roxy had escaped an abusive fiancé and ended up in the protective arms of Nick and Hunter.

  And Liv had finally made her way to Nate and Tristan. Permanently.

  She gave one more toast. “To our happily-ever-afters in Bayfront.”

  “Salute!” they all said in unison.

  Keep reading for a preview of

  THE BILLIONAIRES: THE BOSSES

  Coming in September 2017 from SMP Swerve

  As Christian lit the multiple fires and dimly set chandeliers, she passed through glass doors to the terrace. Rory followed closely behind.

  “He has a swimming pool,” she drolly commented. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “And a spa.”

  All sleek and stylish, with water features made of flat, polished obsidian stone, all artistically lit. Bayli stood at the railing and took in the scene once more.

  “Not too shabby, eh?” Rory said from beside her.

  “Your apartment is incredible, too. Remind me to never show you mine.”

  “Bayli.”

  “Shh.” She kissed him. It was meant to be a quick kiss, but of course Rory took charge of it. His arms slid around her waist and he hauled her up against him.

  Where Christian’s kisses were intense and all-consuming, Rory’s held the playful promise of wicked things to come, making her toes curl.

  When she finally pulled away, she breathlessly said, “I had a point to make.”

  He grinned deviously. “So did I.”

  Unraveling from him—and fanning her flushed face with a hand—she took a couple of steps back so that she didn’t fall into his embrace again.

  She told him, “This is all extremely nice,” gesturing toward the terrace and Christian’s apartment in general, “but it’s not the reason I’m here. Yes, I want to someday be someone and maybe have my own swimming pool, too. You know this about me already, and it’s one hundred percent true. I want more for myself than I’ve ever had—I’
m sure that’s also how Christian felt from the time he was a kid. But . . . there’s something much more enticing and poignant about all of this that has nothing to do with material desires.”

  Rory crossed his arms over his chest. Cocked his head to the side. “Tell me.”

  “It’s like when you read a novel and the character has painted himself into a corner, and as the reader, you’re wondering how the hell they’ll ever free themselves. How they’ll escape whatever drudgery or peril or cage they’re facing with no obvious route in sight or in mind. And then something mysterious happens—they discover a secret or accidently flip a switch that reveals a private passage through the walls or they find a trap door. Whatever. And suddenly, a slew of new opportunities are laid out before them. It’s as heady a sensation for the reader as for the character.”

  “You might be losing me on this one, babe.”

  She laughed softly. “Think about it. When I came to your restaurant it was because I needed a job. Would I have been content coming in three nights a week to seat people who’d look right through me—a nobody—because they’re more interested in seeing and being seen in a roomful of VIPs?”

  “Likely not. One of the reasons I didn’t hire you.”

  “Smart of you. But I faced a corner because you turned me away. Luckily, I had the gig at the fundraiser with the opportunity to impress Christian. He was my trap door . . . Except.” She held up her finger as Rory started to speak. “Not in the way I’d anticipated. The show will be a fantastic break for me, and I’m eternally grateful for the chance to prove I can do this, for being chosen. But I got painted right back into the corner, because I came full circle with you.”

  “I’m your corner?”

  She grinned. “You’re my trap door, too.”

  “Why am I not getting that logic?”

  With another laugh, Bayli said, “Because I’m high on champagne and aphrodisiacs and a really amazing orgasm. But, Rory, what I’m telling you is that I was living in fear of not landing the hostess job—because I really need the steady paycheck. And while I was all tangled up in that fear, the two of you were already working out my escape route. And the truth is, I don’t care about this amazing view of Central Park. I mean, it is amazing . . . But my point is, for the first time in my life I’m understanding that what I want isn’t just about being special in the eyes of strangers. It’s about feeling special, and worthy, when I’m with people I care about. Who care about me.” She got a little teary-eyed, but Rory didn’t seem to mind.

  He brushed his fingers over her cheek. His breath blew against her temple as he said, “Beautiful Bayli. Sometimes you’re just too much in your head, honey.” His finger and thumb gingerly pinched her chin and lifted it so that she stared him the eyes. “Christian and I aren’t your escape route. You’re ours. From the moment we saw you, even though it was separately, we both knew you were the answer to our problem with the show. And that we both wanted you. That you are what we both want.”

  His mouth crashed overs and he kissed her with the sort of hunger that clawed at her, made her instantly restless. Made her crave carnal pleasures she knew little about, but was more than eager to learn. With them.

  Bayli couldn’t stop herself from working Rory’s tie as the kiss went on and on. She shoved the buttons through their holes. Yanked the hem from his pants. Then her hands splayed over his ridged abs and she got even hotter.

  Breaking the kiss, Rory took her by the hand and slowly backed into the apartment, his smoldering gaze still on her. She tried to breathe normally, but that proved impossible. They entered the living room, the atmosphere warm and inviting.

  Bayli gently pulled her hand from Rory’s and crossed to where Christian watched them, a sexy grin on his face.

  “What are you smiling at?” she asked before her lips swept over his.

  “The two of you. I was getting a little worried that you were arguing again. But . . . clearly not.”

  “Definitely not. Though don’t count on us to always be so well-behaved with each other. He gets so easily agitated.”

  From behind her, Rory gave a half-snort. Bayli laughed quietly.

  She told Christian, “He seems to think I have some complexities as well.”

  “Don’t we all?” Christian offered.

  “Indeed. Currently, yours is being too buttoned sup.” She had him out of his tie and shirt in record time, then admired his chest and the long grooves of his obliques. Sighed longingly. “You make me want to lick every single inch of you.”

  “Maybe we’ll get to that later. At the moment, I think you’re the one wearing too much clothing.”

  Rory was suddenly at her back. He slid the side zipper of her dress down its track, the slow zinging of metal filling the otherwise quiet room.

  Christian’s head dipped and he pulled her into one of his soul-stirring kisses that snagged her from reality. Meanwhile, Rory eased the silver material down her body and then knelt behind her. He dragged her panties away and palmed her ass, spreading her cheeks. His mouth was on her pussy in the next instant and she moaned into Christian’s mouth.

  Christian’s arm wound around her waist to hold her steady. His other hand cupped her breast and kneaded a bit roughly, insistently as Rory tongued her clit and then her opening. He suckled her slit, and then pressed his tongue inside.

  Bayli had to end her electrifying kiss with Christian in order to suck in some much-needed oxygen. And because her entire being was on fire.

  She twisted slightly at the waist and combed her hand through Rory’s hair. Christian drew her puckered nipple into his mouth while Rory continued to eat her pussy. The compounded sensations were scintillating and had her deeply aroused again. And stepping further away from the restrictive confines of a conventional sexual relationship.

  When she was on the verge of coming, Rory stood. Her mind whirled. “Hey.”

  He gave her his cocky grin. “Not just yet,” he told her. “You weren’t begging for it.” He kissed her.

  “Not verbally,” she complained. “But trust me, my body is screaming for another release.”

  “We’ll make it scream louder,” Christian assured her.

  And an entire Fourth of July full of fireworks erupted inside her.

  Rory took her hand and led her across the room, toward the elevated entryway and curving staircase. But they didn’t make it that far. There was a long ebony credenza that stretched along the short wall at the foyer and was partially tucked into a corner. Its purpose was primarily bar service, with fancy, intricately cut glass decanters and matching glasses set out. Along with a silver-plated ice bucket with a lid. Though a large portion of the surface was devoid of items.

  Christian stopped here and said, “This’ll do nicely.”

  “Care to elaborate?” Bayli asked.

  “You’ll enjoy what I have in mind.” He shot a look toward Rory. “What we have in mind.”

  “I can certainly improvise and make this work,” Rory said. And freed the fastenings of his pants.

  Bayli’s fingers were at Christian’s waist, quickly loosening his belt, then unbuttoning and unzipping him. She shoved his pants and briefs down his legs while he toed off his shoes. She admired him as he stepped out of the clothing and his socks. His cock was rock hard and his muscles were bunched.

  Oysters and lobster bisque be damned, Christian and Rory were the ultimate aphrodisiacs.

  She turned to Rory, who was naked as well. Her heart skipped some necessary beats.

  For a few suspended seconds, Bayli wasn’t the least bit sure what she should do. What she should do with these men, to be exact.

  They were several steps ahead of her, though.

  Christian took her hand, garnering her attention. He perched himself on the edge of the credenza and she stood between the vee of his parted legs. He kissed her as he wrapped her fingers around his steel erection.

  Behind her, Rory lifted her leg and draped it over Christian’s, opening her to them bot
h. Rory’s fingers slid into her moisture and heat from behind. Christian’s rubbed her clit.

  It was nearly impossible to keep up their sizzling kiss and slowly pump his cock while he and Rory were sending her into that blissful state again.

  So Bayli decided to change things up. Take charge this time.

  She broke her kiss with Christian and released his cock from her tight fist. She grabbed Rory’s free hand and pulled it around her side, forcing him to coil his fingers around Christian’s throbbing dick.

  “Bayli,” both men said in unison. With the same distinct edge of oh, hell no! in their voices.

  “Do this for me,” she said. “So I can concentrate on what you’re doing to me. And, because . . . well, it’s making me absolutely crazy, Rory, to see your hand on Christian’s cock.”

  “This isn’t what we do,” Christian said in a strained voice.

  Her brow crooked. “But for me . . . ?”

  Rory let out a low growl. “That’s a two-way street, honey.”

  Excitement rippled through her. When it really shouldn’t, since she knew exactly what tripped through Rory’s mind at that very moment.

  She said, “Just give me this right now.” Because good Lord, it was riveting to watch Rory’s strong hand encircle Christian’s thick cock. And pump heartily.

  Her mouth was all over Christian’s chest, her tongue flitting over his small nipples, her teeth lightly nipping his flesh, her lips dragging along his heated skin. All the while he rubbed her clit with a fervor that screamed payback. And she loved every second of it.

  Rory’s fingers withdrew from her and he grabbed a condom from the small stack he’d set on the ledge of the divider wall. He was sheathed in seconds and his cock teased her opening for a few moments.

  Bayli studied Christian’s face as Rory’s hand still pumped, and he was about to enter her. The air was thick with sexual tension. With denial of what both men believed in, and the silent acceptance that they would do whatever Bayli asked of them. She was in control. Even as her body tightened and she wanted them both with a voracious appetite she’d never before imagined, let alone experienced, she understood that everything she didn’t know and wasn’t accustomed to didn’t matter in the slightest.