Endless minutes ticked by before Tristan withdrew from her. Liv still couldn’t breathe properly and her brain had practically exploded with the powerful orgasms he’d delivered.

Nate swooped in to unbind her and remove the little clips that had her nipples harder than she’d ever dreamed possible. He scooped her limp and boneless body into his strong arms and carried her to the bed. She settled in the middle of it, no doubt a deliriously sappy smile on her face.

Nate stripped off the rest of his clothes and stretched out on the luxurious duvet alongside her. She shifted, moving toward him and sprawling across his gorgeous body. Her lips grazed his as she added, “You haven’t kissed me tonight in that red-hot, sizzling way of yours.”

“Figured Tristan deserved his time with you.”

She smiled against Nate’s lips. “I do adore that you two know how to share.”

“Stepbrothers,” he murmured, then pressed a hand to the back of her head and sealed his mouth to hers.

Liv returned his kiss with equal fervor, their tongues twisting and tangling. Her hand skated down his corrugated abs and slipped inside his briefs. Her fingers curled around the base of his cock and she pumped slowly.

Nate broke the kiss and said, “Watching Tristan make you come got me so fucking hard.”

“You’re still so fucking hard,” she teased.

He kissed her again as she continued to stroke him. Then his hands gripped her hips and he hauled her all the way on top of him. She straddled his lap, released him, and he thrust up into her.

He held her firmly as he plunged into her with quick, assertive movements that had her panting and gasping.

Tristan rolled toward her and engaged her in a sexy kiss. His fingertips grazed along her spine in a tantalizing touch to her tailbone. Then he caressed the cleft of her ass before circling her opening where she and Nate were joined.

When Tristan’s finger was covered with her cream, he pressed into the tiny hole of her anus.

Liv ripped her mouth from his and cried out. Nate’s hips bucked more forcefully and her nails dug into his pecs. Her excitement escalated, reached the boiling point, and erupted.

“Oh, God, Nate!”

The climax roared through her. Nate didn’t let up.

Tristan withdrew his finger and sheathed himself once again. Then he was behind her and nudging carefully into her so that they both filled her.

Liv remembered the exquisite sensation of having her two lovers take her; Tristan gently and Nate determinedly. It was the ultimate combination. The most incredible stimulation imaginable. As she rushed toward orgasm again, she felt them inching closer and closer to the edge as well.

Nate said, “You’re so damn tight and wet. I really . . . Christ . . . I can’t . . . damn it.”

“Come inside her,” Tristan urged. “Do it.”

She squeezed Nate’s cock, milking it, while also tightening around Tristan’s.

“Oh, fuck, Liv,” Tristan mumbled. “Jesus.”

Liv felt them both, so thick and throbbing. Then their bodies convulsed, almost in unison. And they let go.

Liv screamed as Nate’s hot seed flooded her pussy. Both men pushed in farther, prolonging their orgasms—and hers.

Until Liv collapsed on top of Nate. Exhausted, but so very sated . . .

* * *

Nate wrapped a towel low around his hips and stepped out onto the deck. He admired the view while thinking about how things were falling so smoothly into place for him and Tristan. The business connections they’d begun making before they’d even returned to Bayfront were helping to successfully position them for this move, and their relationship with Liv was certainly heating up.

His thoughts stayed on her as she joined him at the railing, after blow-drying her hair following their tidying up. She wore his shirt—he caught the hint of his cologne as her arms encircled his waist from behind him.

Liv’s soft lips and warm breath swept over his skin as she whispered against his neck, “I think you might have overdone it with the Ariana in terms of a guilty pleasure but I have to confess that mammoth shower is perfect for the three of us. I was getting some wicked ideas of how all those showerheads and jets might come in handy.”

“Then I’ll have to hang onto the ship a bit longer.”

“Were you considering selling? You said you’d only had her a few months.”

“Bit of a conundrum,” Nate mumbled.

Liv had been right when she’d joked about the vessel being surreally ostentatious—in some respects that had actually been the point. In others . . . Well. He could have settled on a boat a third this size and still have had enough room for suites and offices for him, Tristan, and their parents when they visited. And maintained ample amenities.

Nate told her, “Tristan and I started making a fresh batch of rounds with in-person meetings just a while back, and the notion of sailing from coast to coast appealed to us both. We started in New York, cruised our way down the Keys and to the west . . . eventually rounded the Baja Peninsula and came up the Pacific to Bayfront. Not exactly the quickest mode of transportation for networking, I’ll admit, but we have a chartered helicopter company on retainer and we’ve been able to entertain more easily and stay longer whenever necessary at larger ports where we could have a greater outreach.”

“Beats the hell out of hotel life,” she mused.

“Very true. The Ariana offers much more personal accommodations for us—and our guests.”

“I bet you’ve impressed a lot of people along the way.”

Nate couldn’t dispute that. But a different thought preyed on his mind. While London had been an ideal choice for D/R Communications’ international headquarters, Nate and Tristan had harbored the dream and desire to return to California—with evidence of their success.

Nate wasn’t above noting that having the Ariana sail into the marina was a bit of a “screw you” to the nemeses of their past. Except . . . now that he and Tristan were here, finding common ground with the crowd they’d never imagined fitting in with, and Liv was so elated to see them and obviously enjoying being with them, different thoughts churned in his head as to why he’d purchased this particular ship. Why he’d engaged in playing the my dick is bigger than your dick game when it came to the bragging rights associated with the megayacht—as Liv had unwittingly pointed out that day at the club.

In truth, the ship meant more to him than proving he’d “made it.” Rather, the Ariana represented Nate’s embrace of a sense of unconventionality that had forever been innate to him, but which had been stifled by the push-and-pull of wanting to be like the other kids, or other college students, or other businessmen . . . while knowing deep down that he’d always be a square peg in a world that was round.

Case in point: “You know, after Tristan and I cashed in on the gaming software, we could have easily bought an estate in the hills of Bayfront and been just two more wealthy denizens with mansions and yacht club memberships and personal chauffeurs.”

“I suppose so,” Liv ventured. “Although I’ve never once heard either of you say that was what you wished for or aspired to acquire.”

He loved that Liv paid such close attention to her friends’ goals, to the things that mattered most to them. She’d always been engrossed in what fulfilled others as much as what fed her own soul.

Nate told her, “You’re right, in that the mansion lifestyle held little to no appeal for us. However, living aboard the Ariana these past few months has offered a sense of freedom we’d never really experienced before. I realize we were singularly focused at the academy. We were into the sciences and our math and chess clubs. Astronomy at the observatory. As a stereotype, we fit a mold. But as individuals . . . there seemed to be something waiting for us beyond our grasp. A concept that taunted us.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Yeah, you do.” Nate’s hands gently pried hers apart at his waist and he turned to face her. He whisked a hand through her strands of her hair that blew in the light breeze and said, “You felt it, too, from the time you were a little girl. A peculiar calling. The need to have roots or a home base, but the ability to explore at will. To change your scenery from one evening to the next if you so chose. To meet new people and have new, exciting experiences around every corner. You’re not meant to be caged. You have long, strong wings that carry you to different destinations, but they also always return you back home to Bayfront.”

She stared up at him, a hint of confusion in her eyes.

Nate said, “Tristan and I get that about you. Because it’s in our blood, too. That’s why I bought the ship. It’ll take us wherever we want to go. Yes, sometimes we need to be much more expeditious. But then again . . . with the infrastructure we’ve built within the organization and given that we’ve designed state-of-the-art business communications solutions, we’re not tied to the office or London or even California. We can roam.”

“I like roaming,” she said on a soft breath. “I also like Bayfront.”

“That’s precisely what I’m getting at. We like Bayfront, too. That’s why we’re expanding operations into San Francisco. And with the Ariana—or if I downsize the yacht so I’m not perceived as pretentious—”

“I never said you were pretentious,” she was quick to say.

He smirked. “You sort of it implied it when you called her a monstrosity.”

“I promise I meant it in the nicest possible way.”

Nate kissed the tip of her nose, then said, “In any event, we can sail along the coast to hubs such as San Diego, L.A., the Bay Area, Portland, Seattle, Vancouver . . . It’s a nice life-work balance we’ve discovered.”

“Well, you have been nose-to-the-grindstone since I met you.”

“That’s another revelation I’ve recently had,” he told her. “I’ve spent my whole life working toward something, even though I wasn’t fully certain what that something was. Tristan, too. But we suffered the conflict of wanting to be normal, while also having the gnawing suspicion that we never would be—and having to accept the fact that being different doesn’t always win popularity contests.”

It was funny how creating a stigma in your mind could permeate not just your entire existence, but make you automatically assume everyone perceived you a certain way, without comprehending that the Toby Andersons of the world, for example, would never give you the benefit of the doubt, but the Liv Tyners of the world would.

Those were the fascinating people who looked beyond the façade and took effort—found it enthralling—to dig beyond the obvious to discover what might be tucked away for safekeeping.

Liv told him, “Normal’s never been good enough for the two of you. I realized that when Tristan and I were talking about The Way You Were and how some people need a level of stability and predictability in their lives. And how some people need a little more . . . chaos.”

“Or just adventure,” Nate said with a wink.

“I prefer chaos.”

He chuckled. “Of course you do.” His head dipped and his lips tangled with hers. Nate loved the way she melded to him, slipping her arms around his neck, becoming one with him. His tongue delved deep to glide along hers as they both tightened their embrace.

No matter what Nate had achieved or obtained, nothing meant more to him than being wrapped up in Liv.

Their kiss continued and he was damn close to leading her back to the bed when he heard Tristan come out onto the deck and take a seat around the hot tub.

Nate unraveled from Liv and she swayed a little on her bare feet, causing him to grin.

“Don’t look too smug,” she breathlessly teased. “Your stepbrother makes me equally lightheaded.”

“Hopefully, we’re the only ones,” Nate quietly said.

She kissed his cheek and told him, “Don’t doubt it for a second.”

Her amber eyes shimmered with affection and adoration.

Nate didn’t think it was possible to be more enamored with her . . . but he was.

She left him and slipped into Tristan’s lap, snuggling against him.

“I have something to tell you both,” she said. “And it is riddled with irony.”

* * *

Tristan’s gut clenched. Liv’s sigh against his neck didn’t help matters. Over the top of her head, his gaze locked with Nate’s, who scowled, apparently not liking the hesitation in her voice any more than Tristan did.

“What’s up?” Tristan asked, striving for nonchalance but not quite sure he hit the mark.

Her fingertips drew lazy circles on his bare chest—he’d gone to his suite to retrieve a pair of drawstring pants while she was out on the deck with Nate. The feel of her curled into him and the sweeping of her fingers would have wholly distracted him, except that something clearly weighed heavy on her mind.

She told them, “I can see your grand plan for what it is now. You’ve figured out that you don’t have to fit into anyone’s ideal to be accepted. You have to be true to yourselves—that’s always been my motto, so naturally I completely agree. You’ve followed your hearts and fulfilled your dreams. Now you have a solid foundation to come back here yet still flit about as needed or desired. The perfect arrangement for you both. A perfect arrangement for me as well, because I want to be closer to you. In fact, I probably max out my time with projects because it keeps me from missing you both so damn much.”

Tristan stroked her silky hair as he said, “Why do I sense a but coming on?”

She stared up at him for a few seconds, then her gaze shifted to Nate. She said, “You’re both going to be in Bayfront. I’m not.”

Tristan felt as though a trapdoor had just sprung open—and he’d fallen right through it.

“You’re doing another movie for Nick,” Nate guessed. “A remake of Seven Years in Tibet? Emphasis on the seven years and the in Tibet parts?”

She laughed softly, though not necessarily humorously. “Not quite. I’m not taking on any more acting roles—for a few years, at least. I’m trying something different. Something I’ve always wanted to do, but like you two, I’ve needed to work my way toward it.”

Tristan’s brow furrowed. He wracked his brain for any hint she’d given over time as to what her ultimate career goal might be, but came up empty-handed.

Nate was the one to ask. “What is it?”

“Singing. I’m going to join a band and we’re going to do a lot of shows and build up our reputation and following. Hopefully catch the attention of a record label. Or maybe we’ll indie-produce something. Nick could certainly help us with that.”

Tristan said, “I thought you lost interest in singing. You didn’t take the deal from the L.A. studio.”

“I definitely haven’t lost interest. This is exactly what I want to do,” she said emphatically. “I didn’t tell you why I passed on the deal. They didn’t want my songs or even me as I am. They asked me to lop off eight inches of hair, dye it blonde, and sing breakup songs. An American Adele. And while I love her music, I don’t want to sing breakup songs. Or change my name to Olivia. It’ll always be Liv—Liv Tyner. So we walked.”

“Wow.” Nate whistled under his breath. “Totally can’t see you as a blonde Olivia.”

With a slight shake of her head, she said, “Me, either. So I started looking for a band in need of a lead singer. I’ve narrowed my search to two. But here’s the kicker—I’d excitedly chosen East Coast bands. Closer to England, you know?”

Tristan let out a sharp breath. “You’re fucking kidding.”

“Surprise,” she said with little enthusiasm.

Nate scrubbed a hand down his face. Rubbed the back of his neck.

Liv said, “I’m planning on being in New York for the next few years. While you guys are here in Bayfront. Doesn’t that just figure?”

Although Tristan did see the irony, he pointed out, “New York isn’t exactly the moon, honey.”

“Agreed.” She ground her teeth a moment, then said, “It just feels like a sign, you know? Like the three of us are only supposed to have these snippets of time together, nothing more.”

Tristan cut straight to the chase. “Do you want more? With us?”

Liv pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was silent a few seconds, collecting her thoughts before saying—with conviction—“I do. I absolutely do. The problem is, we’re always so scattered from each other. And I’m worried that it’s difficult enough to make a relationship with three people gel. Seems downright impossible if I’m not around, right?”