Liv was outrageously excited, her heart pounding wildly, the adrenaline pumping.

How amazingly perfect!

Then she remembered that she was moving to New York.

“Holy shit,” she mumbled, disheartened, as she came crashing down from her high.

“What?” Tristan inquired again, looking deeply concerned. “You’re starting to worry me, Liv.”

“I don’t know . . .” She waved a dismissive hand as her mind reeled. “Nothing to talk about right this very second.” Christ, she could barely breathe. “Just . . . go do your thing. Let’s mingle.”

She surged forward, because she’d always gleaned immense satisfaction from supporting Tristan and Nate, no matter what their endeavors. Even if everything she’d been plotting was suddenly starting to unravel.

Her two favorite men, whom she’d just realized almost a week ago she missed more than anything she could possibly fathom, were about to be within her reach. Except . . . no. They weren’t. Because Liv was moving across the country—closer to London. Where Tristan and Nate would not be!

Son of a bitch!

She’d accepted the fact that at least the next three years of her life needed to be focused on her musical career. On the East Coast. A hop, skip, and a jump from the UK.

She pulled in lengthy breaths that filled her lungs. Exhaled slowly. All the while, she told herself that flying back to Bayfront would actually be a quicker jaunt than flying to London. No need to get all crazy over the stars scattering when she’d known that was exactly what would happen if she even dared to dream of another intimate rendezvous with them.

Cosmic forces worked in the most fantastic or the most insidious damn ways.

In today’s world, Liv could actually be living in the same town as Nate and Tristan. Hell, even if they chose to buy flats in the city or rent suites at the Fairmont instead of residing in Bayfront, they’d still be right around the corner. They could have dinners together, hang out at the yacht club, join their friends for cocktails on the patio here in town, or meet up regularly in San Francisco.

In an instant, Liv had considered how wonderful that would be.

And an instant later . . . the excitement had been ripped from her grasp—as had they. Because she wouldn’t be living in “today’s world” much longer.

Shit.

Ironically, Liv had to shove that all aside so she could focus on the here and now. She and Tristan joined Nate with the governor and Liv mustered as much enthusiasm over this twist of fate as she could. This was clearly a new lesson for her to learn. When it came to these two men, she got snapshots in time. Not scenarios to withstand any sort of longevity.

They had friendly conversations with numerous prominent figures, and Liv concentrated on the topics at hand, related to telecommunications and more advanced wifi and other technical solutions that were rolling out from Nate and Tristan’s company—as well as Dagney Presley’s, a man Liv had always admired. He and his wife Tova had been surrogate parents to Liv in so many ways. With her own mother always performing on renowned stages the world over, Liv had basically been raised by nannies and house staff. But because she was good friends with Fallon, Tova had taken it upon herself to ensure Liv felt she was part of a family.

Perhaps it was that woman who had inspired Liv to build her own family—her vast circle of friends—looking beyond the stereotypes her mother perpetuated and the elitist mentality she embraced.

The billionaires’ cove of Bayfront did not come without its fair share of fiscal and social challenges, its smackdowns and scandals. The community wasn’t a streamlined utopia, given the inherent affluence. Yet it was by and large populated with people who enjoyed the finer things in life as much as they did the simple aspects. Expensive champagne was fine and dandy, but did it really compare to a vibrant California sunset that spilled fiery vermillion and gold across the sparkling turquoise water, and backlit the hills with a mesmerizing glow? Most residents wouldn’t deign to check what label was stamped on the cork just popped—taking for granted it was a private reserve variety that ranked at the top of the most prestigious lists—but they could detail every nuance of the gorgeous scenery sprawled before them.

Even now, as the stars overhead winked seductively and the lapping of waves against the hull and the peninsula created a sexy lulling sound, the majority of Nate’s and Tristan’s guests had flowed out to the Ariana’s decks, rather than staying inside. It was just too beautiful a night, as always, to miss out on.

Liv got a rush off of the atmosphere, the animated discussions, the two men flanking her. And though she toyed with the idea of what might come later, she was grounded in the present, feeling a sense of pride over being the successful entrepreneurs’ date, but also reveling in her admiration for them.

It was well after one in the morning when the party broke up. Liv was still buzzing from the way Nate and Tristan had commanded such respect, and spoken so authoritatively about their business, that she was insanely aroused before they’d even reached the point where they were finally alone.

She’d long since stopped drinking and was completely in control of all faculties when she told them, “Now would be a good time to give me the grand tour.” They didn’t miss the suggestion in her voice as to where that tour should end . . .

Nate took her hand, guiding her along the lower deck, where he and Tristan had seen off their guests by ferry back to the marina. He explained that this portion of the yacht housed the forty or so crew members who staffed the ship. On the remaining four decks, there were formal and informal living and dining rooms, a full-service spa and salon, a gym, a helipad, offices, a library, a state-of-the-art theater, ten staterooms, one wading pool, three outdoor Jacuzzi tubs . . .

All completely mind-boggling. As was Nate’s master suite. He swiped his fingerprint over a small scanner on the wall and the door slid open. They stepped inside the private room on the fourth deck, tall windows surrounding them. Liv knew they were tinted black on the outside, and probably bulletproof. Bayfront was all aglow and sprawled before them. A different perspective from her coveted oceanside condo, but the view was just as sensational.

As they entered the room, Tristan took the lead. Replacing Nate’s hand in hers, he stared intently at Liv as he walked backward, pulling her slowly through the vast stateroom. There were no other lights on, just a dimly lit chandelier and the flickering flames at the base of the waterfall outside the bathroom or dressing room or whatever suite lay behind the decorative sliding doors. The water between the glass panes captured the blood-red orange and vibrant purple from the fire. Shadows danced across the opposite wall of windows. The harbor twinkled with gas lamps and dazzling stars.

Nate reached for the remote on the nightstand and a moment later, jazz music at a low decibel level flowed from hidden speakers. He pressed another button and the slightly rounded floor-to-ceiling glass doors that led to the deck slid smoothly open. A warm summer breeze wafted inside.

Tristan gathered her close. “What do you say?” he asked in his sensuous voice. “Interested in a few orgasms?”

Liv chose not to obsess over all the loose ends of her life. Not when she was once again in this advantageous position with Tristan and Nate . . . and it felt so right.

She softly quipped, “Just a few?”

Detangling her fingers from Tristan’s, she slipped out of her sandals and set them on the bench that ran the width of the bed at the foot of it, while both men removed their jackets. Then Liv worked Tristan’s bowtie, unbuttoned his shirt, tugged the hem from his pants, and slid the material down his biceps. She draped the shirt on the bench with the mounting pile of clothes before repeating the process with Nate.

They were magnificent. Her heart beat faster and her knees weakened.

She said, “I always try not to be too decadent for my own good, but you are both an overindulgence I can’t resist.”

Her hands smoothed over Tristan’s chest and she dropped kisses along his pecs.

“Damn, you make me hot,” he murmured.

He ran his fingers through her long, sleek hair down to her shoulders. Nate moved behind her and worked the zipper on her dress, quickly helping her out of the garment.

Then he knelt and twined his fingers in the thin strands of her thong and dragged it to her ankles. While he was doing this, Tristan unhooked her strapless bra and took her in from head to toe—in one long, measured gaze that caused Liv’s stomach to flutter. He let out another low groan and her nipples tightened.

“How can you possibly be more extraordinary than the last time I saw you naked?” Tristan asked.

She smiled at him, too breathless to speak.

Nate’s fingertips skimmed over her skin as he stood, until she was tingling and quivering. He placed his hands above her hips, kissed her shoulder, then lightly nipped his way up her neck.

He stopped just below her ear and whispered, “Do you remember what Tristan likes to do to you?”

A hungry whimper escaped her as Tristan’s blue eyes burned with lust and longing and Nate’s hands snaked around her front to palm her breasts and massage firmly.

Her thighs pressed together. She was already wet. And they’d barely started with her.

She licked her suddenly dry lips and, maintaining the eye contact with Tristan, said, “Yes. I remember everything. As I have clearly demonstrated, I lack inhibitions in the bedroom.”

Tristan’s mouth swept over hers and he murmured, “One of the many, many things we adore about you.”

Nate released her and stepped back.

Taking Liv’s hand again, Tristan guided her onto the deck, to the elevated hot tub in the corner, with a partial privacy wall along the side not facing Bayfront, she noted. Nate followed.

“Sit.” Tristan gestured to the thick sienna cushions lining the bench semi-encircling the tub.

She did as instructed. This far out into the harbor, Liv didn’t think anyone could see the three of them unless they had a telescope trained on this particular spot—and it’d have to be of the magnitude of the observatory’s, which had closed a couple of years ago. Yet she still felt like a voyeur’s prime target.

That should have alarmed her. Rather, a scintillating edge crept in on her.

She had only a general idea of what Tristan had up his sleeve this evening. He liked ties and toys. He’d wanted to experiment on Liv when the three of them had gotten together—and she’d been more than happy to oblige, handing over her vibrator at one point. Reaping the benefit from Tristan’s active imagination.

Of course, she’d likely have to exercise her library voice this evening when he made her come, so that she didn’t fill the marina with her cries of euphoria. Hopefully, the sultry music would drown out the moans.

Tristan eased to his knees in front of her and rummaged around in a bag Liv hadn’t noticed previously, extracting a dark-blue silk sash.

She clamped down on her instantly trembling lower lip. She shouldn’t be so elated over being at his mercy, considering all that remained unresolved amongst them. Yet she had first-hand knowledge that Tristan’s light bondage fetish had nothing to do with pain, little to do with control over her, and plenty to do with pleasure.

He said, “Lean back, hands on the cushion.”

His commanding tone excited her even more.

She flattened her palms on the padding, slightly behind her hips. Tristan surprised her by pulling the wide strip of silk through a wooden slat between the cushions, wrapping it around one of her wrists, and tying it with a bow. He collected a second sash and did the same with the other wrist.

Liv’s breathing kicked up, as did her pulse.

“Spread your legs,” he said in a gruff voice, his own excitement ratcheting.

She followed his bidding and he raised her leg so that her foot rested on the bench seating. He secured her ankle, then tied the other one to a metal loop on the floor, close to the half-wall.

She was spread wide open, offering Tristan easy access to her.

All the while Nate quietly watched, slowly popping the button of his tuxedo pants and sliding the zipper down its track.

Liv was practically dripping with anticipation—and the delicious sight of Nate.

Distracting her, Tristan propped a pillow against the ledge behind her, at the same level as the top of the tub, so she could lean back comfortably.

“Are you going to blindfold me?” she asked, breathless. Tristan had said that was another fantasy of his.

“Not tonight,” he told her. “I want you to watch what I do to you.”

Her inner walls clenched as the throbbing began deep in her core.

His hands skimmed over the tops of her bare thighs, his thumbs sweeping along the insides. Then they grazed her folds, rubbing back and forth. The anticipation mounted.

God, she wanted him. Needed him.

Needed them both.

She squirmed restlessly as Tristan continued to caress her dewy flesh. He had to know he drove her wild with his slow seduction.

“Tristan,” she muttered, a quiet plea.

His head dipped and his tongue flicked over her clit. Heat flooded her veins.

“Oh, God, yes.” She panted harshly, her heart rate instantly spiking.

His touch was electric, and with a skilled, fluttery motion, his tongue teased the sensitive knot between her legs. Her pulse soared. He eased his finger into her wet depths and a raspy moan leapt from low in her throat.

“Yes,” she urged. “Make me come.”

He worked a second finger in and pumped feverishly. Liv’s head fell back on the pillow and she closed her eyes, letting all the thrilling sensations rush through her. She raised her hips and pressed herself against his mouth

He suckled her clit and she bit back a cry.

“That’s so good,” she whispered. “So damn hot.”

Her eyes opened and she gazed down at Tristan, watching as he’d requested. His mouth on her was a wicked sight. Her hips jerked upward, a silent craving for more. Her fingers itched to plow through his silky hair, holding him to her until she’d gotten everything she wanted from him.

The yearning to touch him was a powerful one, but Liv was even more enticed by the bindings restraining her, keeping her open to him.

He continued to suckle enthusiastically as he fingered her. Her pelvis gyrated as he pushed her right to the precipice.

“Yes,” she insisted. “Just like that, Tristan. Oh, my God. Just like that.”

The tension pulled tight within her and then the erotic sensations erupted and Liv squeaked out a whimper that really wanted to be a roar as she came on a frenzy of heat and moisture.

“Christ,” she said, breathing heavily. “That is so incredibly good.”

Tristan’s head lifted. “Don’t be so quiet.”

“We’re outside.”

“You do realize how big this yacht is and how far away we are from the marina?”

He had a point, except . . . “Nate has a crew.”

“They can’t hear you,” Tristan reiterated. “Trust me.”

“Always,” Liv said.

With a sinful glint in his eyes, Tristan told her, “I’m not done.”

Of course not. He had amazing opening-act material, but Liv knew he had more in store for her. And she also knew that Nate would join in at just the right moment to double her pleasure.

That thought intensified the pulsating in her pussy to a more incessant, greedy cadence.

Tristan reached into the goody bag and pulled out two small peacock feathers with tiny clamps attached to them.

Inquisitively, Liv eyed what looked to be dangly earrings as he tested each one on the pad of his finger, made an adjustment, then returned his attention to her.

“What are those?” she asked.

“Nipple clamps.”

“Oh!” Liv gasped, a bit shocked. Definitely an unexpected addition to his repertoire. “Not so sure about those . . .”

She writhed against the silk ties at her wrists.

Tristan made a soft chastising noise. “They’re not that harsh, and you know I wouldn’t have bought them if I didn’t think you could handle this. We never got around to this part.”

“Tristan—” Her gaze snapped to his stepbrother. “Nate! Those are going to hurt.”

“Just a little pinch,” Nate said in his low, sexy tone. “They’ll keep your nipples hard.”

“You can keep my nipples hard,” she told him. “Or you,” she said to Tristan. “No accessories needed.”

“My hands are going to be full.” Tristan’s expression turned downright sizzling.

Taunting her. Tempting her.

Still . . .

“Tristan,” Liv said again in protest.

“Shh. I haven’t done anything yet.” He moved in closer and his tongue curled around the taut center of her breast, toying with it. He suckled, then his teeth scraped over the peak and her hips bucked in response.

With his finger and thumb, he rolled her nipple, pebbling it tighter.

“Ready?” His warm breath teased her skin and made her shiver.

A peculiar err slipped from her parted lips. Not quite a no, not quite a yes.

Eagerness tinged his chuckle. “I’ll be careful.” He tenderly attached the clamp.

Liv gasped from the bite, but she’d barely pulled in a breath when the smarting turned into a titillating tingle.

“Okay?” he asked as he watched her succumb to the foreign sensation that turned the pulsating within her to a full-blown ache. A needy, desperate one.

“Ohhhh . . .” she sighed. “Yes. Definitely, yes.” Warmth flooded her cheeks at her wanton reaction. She could instantly classify nipple clamps as yet another guilty pleasure.

Tristan flashed a triumphant grin before he paid her other nipple the same attention and secured it with the tiny clip. She knew what to expect this time, and the sting didn’t register quite as much because she was anticipating the delicious impending prickle.

Another light gust drifted over the deck. It caused the feathers to brush against Liv’s highly sensitized skin and the clamps to pull ever so slightly on the taut centers of her breasts, heightening her arousal.

So, too, did Nate moving in to join them. He propped his knee on the cushion beside her and bent his head to her chest, the very tip of his tongue flitting over Liv’s nipple. She wanted to scream from the flaming sensations instantly raging through her.

Her inner muscles clenched. “Tristan,” she whispered, no trace of protest this time. “Do something.”

He rocked back on his heels, still feasting on her, devouring her with a look. His jaw tightened. In that instant, Liv saw something very dark and powerful grip him.

She did more than make him hot. She was confined to this deck and spread wide for him. She was fully exposed. Primed for him. Ready for him.

And in his eyes, she caught his unmistakable need—to possess her.

The hard angles of his sculpted face told Liv that something more animalistic and innate drove him—like never before, like nothing they’d experienced before. Pleasure certainly fringed his motivations, but his sudden territorial nature was a dominant force, and she got the distinct impression he intended to own her. Completely, mercilessly.

The way Nate had numerous times with his more aggressive nature.

She couldn’t pull in a full breath. Tristan’s sudden raw intensity was riveting—and had her crazed with anticipation.

Their gazes locked and she was mesmerized. The primitive heat and desire flaring in his eyes made it impossible for her to remain focused on anything other than his obvious mounting passion—which she longed for him to unleash on her.

“Fuck me,” she said.

Nate shifted off of the bench seat as Tristan toed off his shoes and shucked his pants, boxer briefs, and socks. Now he was gloriously naked and she was even wetter than before.

She’d shared intimate moments with Nate days before. Now Liv wanted her time with Tristan.

Before she had both of them.

Nate seemed to innately understand this and didn’t intervene. Tristan sheathed himself with a condom and then he was between her parted legs, one knee alongside her hip. One of his hands gripped the ledge behind her head, the other cupped her ass. He sank into her and Liv cried out, no longer caring who the hell heard her.

He felt positively sinful. Thick and full and so damn hard.

His shaft glided along her slick walls and he grunted savagely. Fucked her feverishly. Just the way she liked it.

“Yes,” Liv ground out. “Harder.” Her spine arched, thrusting her breasts upward. His tongue flicked over her nipple the way Nate’s had and the combination of that and the clamps added to the erotic sensations he elicited with his quick, forceful plunging deep into her.

Liv thought she’d come again, instantly. But she clung to the orgasm this time, letting it build and build.

He filled her completely, hitting that perfect spot that took her breath away.

“Tristan.” She moved with him, her hips undulating, her pussy clenching, working him while he did the same to her.

The exhilaration and heat collided and Liv cried out once more as the climax ripped through her.

She thrashed against her restraints, wanting to grip his rock-hard biceps and dig her nails into his solid muscle. At the same time, it excited her to have absolutely no control over what he did to her.

He was just as frenzied. His hips jerked and he thrust deeper until he let out a carnal growl and came inside her, pulsing and surging . . . and setting Liv off again.

“Liv,” he said on a sharp slice of air. “Oh, fuck. God, you feel so damn good!”

And he kept her soaring . . .