by Dana Delamar
HER TWO MEN IN TAHITI
Three hearts face the music…
They’ve haunted my dreams since the last time we hooked up. Two hot British rock stars who spent a week devoting themselves to my pleasure. I never thought I’d see them again. Yet here we are in Tahiti, trying to keep their band, King’s Cross, from fracturing. But how can I help, when I’m at the heart of their problems?
SKY
I left them to save them, but I nearly destroyed myself in the process. Can my heart survive doing it all over again?
ROD
I had them, for one brief week before it all fell apart. Now she’s gone, and he’s rejected me one too many times. How can I be around him every day, when he reminds me of everything I’ve lost?
DEV
I had a glimpse of happiness, but it came in the form of all I knew to be wrong. I was raised to deny what my heart so desperately wants. How much longer can I go on this way?
THE TOTAL INDULGENCE SERIES
Her Two Men in London (Book One)
Her Two Men in Tahiti (Book Two)
Her Two Men in Sonoma (Book Three) – coming 2018
HER TWO MEN IN TAHITI
Total Indulgence, Book 2
Dana Delamar
and
Kristine Cayne
Copyright © 2018 Three Orcas Press LLC
“No Strings,” “Unfinished,” and “Just Friends” Copyright © 2018 Dana Delamar
Excerpt from Her Two Men in Sonoma copyright © 2018 Three Orcas Press LLC
All rights reserved.
ISBN (print): 1-949071-03-0
ISBN-13 (print): 978-1-949071-03-0
ISBN (ebook): 1-949071-02-2
ISBN-13 (ebook): 978-1-949071-02-3
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Artwork – © 2018 L.J. Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations
mayhemcovercreations.com
Cover photo: © Period Images
Series logo design © 2018 L.J. Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations
Dana Delamar author image courtesy of LGImages
Ebook formatting by LK Ebook Formatting Service
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Editing, proofreading, and print formatting:
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
A SPECIAL PREVIEW OF HER TWO MEN IN SONOMA
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
ALSO BY DANA DELAMAR AND KRISTINE CAYNE
BONUS CONTENT: SONG LYRICS
Prologue
Three Months Ago
SKY
I awoke slowly to the heaven I’d been in for the past week: smack dab between two hot rock stars: Rod “Hot Rod” Taylor and Dev Stone of King’s Cross. British rock stars, no less. For some reason, they’d taken a “fancy” to my American accent while we were working together and invited me to take a wild “holiday” with them. Me, Sklyar River, struggling life coach and team-building facilitator.
I didn’t know what I was doing here in Palm Springs, other than having the best sex of my life. Rod and Dev were intense and fun and wild—well, Rod more so than Dev. Rod had initiated our little threesome, and Dev and I had eagerly joined in.
Dev was on my left and Rod on my right, both of them nestled against me, Dev’s short black hair in disarray, his golden-brown skin so dark against mine. Last night he’d said he was never letting me go, and Rod had echoed the sentiment.
Me. They wanted me. Two rock stars, who could have anyone.
I told them I had to think about it. But I was done thinking; I was all in. As crazy as it was, I was falling for them, and I would do whatever it took to be with them, including giving up my business in San Francisco.
Rod stirred against me, his right hand still cupping my breast, the one with the little freckle near the nipple. He’d named it Beatrice—the freckle, that is. I’d asked him why and he’d shrugged. “It just looks like a Beatrice.”
That was Rod for you—kind of silly under his ultra-glam rock star exterior. He was the kind of guy Adam Lambert took styling cues from. Spiky brown hair with blond streaks, guyliner galore. And oh, could he fill out a pair of leather pants. His thick, hard cock pressed into my hip, Dev’s in the same state on my other side. Should I wake them up for round one of today’s escapades?
I started sliding a hand along Rod’s hip, then stopped myself. My bladder was squealing, and if I’d learned anything about Rod and Dev, it was that once we got started, it would be quite a while before we’d stop. Better zip into the bathroom and freshen up, then initiate the festivities.
I carefully crept out of the hotel room bed and into the bathroom. Might as well brush my teeth and shower while I was there.
When I was done, I tried to run a brush through my tangle of dark brown curls, but it was pretty hopeless—I needed some deep conditioning to sort out this snarl. And they’d just mess it up anyway, one or the other of them winding it around his fist and pulling just hard enough to make me wet and achy. A wave of heat ran through me at the memory of last night—Dev in my mouth, Rod buried in my pussy, me writhing between them.
How had I gotten so lucky?
I walked back into the bedroom and stopped short. Dev was spooning Rod, his cock pressed against Rod’s firm ass. Interesting. Rod was openly bisexual—“anything sexual” as he put it—but Dev was adamantly straight, or so he’d said. Was there something more between them, something I wasn’t supposed to see?
Rod rolled over so he and Dev were face to face, and Dev nuzzled into the crook of Rod’s neck and threw a leg over his hip. What the hell?
They looked hot together, and I certainly didn’t object to the idea of the two of them being sexually involved. But… if they were, where did that leave me?
The two of them had grown up together. They’d known each other for almost twenty years. They were as close as two people could be and not be married—though in a way they were, because of the band.
Why were they hiding this from me? Didn’t they trust me?
An old memory resurfaced, and I pushed it away. This wasn’t the same thing.
Or was it? I’d been lied to before, and the ache in my chest felt the same as it had back then.
Apparently, I was good enough to fu
ck, but not worthy of being in Rod and Dev’s confidence.
Dev exhaled loudly, then he murmured, “I love you.”
Rod’s eyes snapped open. “Never thought I’d hear you say it.” He smiled and closed his eyes again, tightening his arms around Dev, and my stomach dropped to the floor.
Now I understood why Rod had instigated our threesome. He’d wanted me to be the sexual bridge between him and his straight best friend. He’d used me to get what he really wanted. And now he—they—didn’t need me.
I’d been the third wheel before, and no way was I going through that again.
My eyes started to burn, but damn it, they didn’t deserve my tears, and they didn’t deserve my heart.
I quietly dressed and packed my things, the two of them holding each other in their sleep. A lump in my throat, I snuck out and shut the door, already calling for a ride.
I wiped the damn tears away while I arranged for my taxi.
This was the last time I was going to follow my stupid, foolish heart. It never looked before it leapt.
But I should have known better. Three people, one relationship? It had been too good to be true.
Chapter 1
ROD
I wandered into the photographer’s studio a quarter hour late and proper shit-faced. Nigel Standen, the bloke we’d hired to manage King’s Cross, gave me the stink eye. But what did the bleeding sod expect? The only way I would make it through this fucking nightmare of a photoshoot was to arrive anything but sober.
The photographer, a lush blonde bird with an impressive rack, introduced herself as Zoe while eyeing me up and down. My attire was rock star chic, grungy holed jeans and a leather jacket worn over a ripped and stretched out T-shirt. It was all I’d had time to throw on after an angry call from Nigel pulled me out of the warm arms of Trisha and Tristan.
“Just crawled out of a gutter, mate?” Zoe asked.
“No, just crawled out of a nice, cozy, and still-occupied bed.”
“I suppose it’ll have to do,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Let’s get started.”
My bandmates grunted their hellos while she herded us together in front of a mockup of the cover of our new album, Ultimate Mindf*ck. “A little closer now, please,” Zoe instructed.
I ground my teeth and swung a loose arm around Damon Mercury, the newest member of King’s Cross, a Yank guitarist we’d recruited at the label’s urging to give the band a harder sound. On his other side, flanked by Mick, Jules, and Tommy, stood Devkinandan Prakesh, aka Dev Stone, the love of my life, former best mate, eternal enemy, and constant knife in my back.
Damon took a whiff of me. “Dude, you smell like sex. Just how many people were you with last night?”
“Twins. And it was this morning.”
“Female?”
I grinned. “One of each.”
He held up his fist for me to bump. “Dude. You’re my hero.”
“All right then,” Zoe said, after shooting photos from various angles. “Shirts off.”
Dev tossed the photographer a shy smile, then tugged his shirt over his head. I barely managed to bite back a groan, and my mouth went dry at the sight of all that smooth copper skin. His muscles flexed and relaxed, rippling under the glow of the photographer’s lights. Zoe’s eyes brightened, and Dev hammed it up for her, striking poses like some sort of bodybuilder, the fucking wanker.
Not so long ago, all that flesh, those toned muscles, and so much more had been on display for me. Within my grasp. But when I’d dared to take what was so readily offered, Dev had thrown a strop.
Didn’t the tosser understand what he’d done to me? How his rejection had flayed my skin and left me bare. Exposed. Destroyed.
He’d pushed me away. Shamed me.
But never again.
“Rod?”
The photographer frowned at me.
“What?” I snapped.
“Your shirt.”
I looked around and saw I was the only one still fully dressed. With a grumble, I removed my jacket and tossed my T-shirt into the corner. It landed on top of Dev’s. Fucking Christ. Was that as close as I’d get to him now? How pathetic was I that such a small thing had my cock stirring?
Zoe looked us over and positioned Dev and me in the center, with the other blokes around us. As the lead singer, I was the face of King’s Cross, and Dev was the lead guitarist—but fuck, he wasn’t anymore. He’d stepped back to rhythm guitar and let Damon take his place. Another thing I was pissed about. He’d probably done it just to get away from me. Dev wrote the music and I wrote the lyrics. That was how it had always been.
We were best mates. Emphasis on “were.”
These days, Dev didn’t talk to me. We hadn’t written the songs we needed for the world tour we were kicking off in just two months, not to mention the album we hadn’t yet recorded. Nigel was running out of excuses for the delays.
And everyone blamed me.
But was it my fault? I’d always been honest about who I was. My sexuality was out there for everyone to see. And Dev had been my friend throughout it all. Until…
A noise drew my attention. Dev’s breath caught in his throat, a sound like the one he made when he came. My eyes shot to his face only to see him transfixed by Zoe. She placed her hand on his shoulder to guide him into position. A flush rose up his chest, then darkened his neck and face. When she smiled at him, his chest puffed out.
“Zoe,” he asked in his sexy-as-fuck East Indian accent. “Are you a fan of the band?”
“Of course.” She chuckled. “Who isn’t?”
Damon held up his arm and flexed his bicep, which made his tattoos seem to come alive. “Who’s your favorite?”
Her eyes lingered on Dev before she focused on Damon. “Maybe you’re my favorite. That’s some right proper ink,” she said as she moved around us.
Yeah, right. Her favorite was Dev. A blind man could see it. And as much as I wished it right now, I wasn’t blind. Dev wanted her too.
And I wanted everyone to shut up and fuck off. We needed to finish this torture session yesterday. My muscles were shaking, maybe from keeping the position too long, or maybe it was the fucking agonies. What I wouldn’t give for a couple dexies right about now.
“Rod, give us a smile,” Zoe said.
A corner of my lips rose, and she started to laugh. “That’s a snarl, love. Try again.”
Nigel lifted his heft off the chair he’d been sitting in and grabbed my chin. “Are you high?”
“Not nearly high enough.”
Dev sighed and the sound wrapped around my heart. It was suddenly difficult to breathe. We’d always promised each other we wouldn’t let the rock star life take over, but that had been before. Now I couldn’t make it through a day without indulging in one mind-altering substance or another. And on days like today, where I had to see him, it was all I could do not to drown.
Nigel shook his head in thinly veiled disgust and returned to his seat like the gormless worm he was. Having given up on me, Zoe turned to Dev and cupped his jaw. Her thumb touched his bottom lip. His gaze shot to me.
I glared back.
He cleared his throat and looked away. But it was no use. I could feel his heat, smell his arousal, and the urge to scream, fight, or fuck took me over.
I couldn’t do this.
I couldn’t be this close to Dev and not touch him.
I couldn’t stand to see him every day and know that he’d never be mine.
Tearing my eyes from his profile, I stepped away from the group. Slowly at first, but as the distance mounted, so did my speed. I snatched my shirt off Dev’s, grabbed my jacket, and stormed out of the room, ignoring the calls of my bandmates, of the photographer, and mostly, of Dev.
A hand gripped my arm and spun me around. I stared at it, the dark on my light.
“You can’t leave,” Dev said, his stormy eyes the color of a muddy lake bottom.
Once again, I tore my gaze away. I couldn’t do this if I looked at him
, and I had to do this, before it all killed me.
“I quit,” I said softly.
Dev’s breath caught, and his fingers tightened on my wrist. “You can’t.”
Anger rose inside me, a boiling cauldron. I ripped my wrist out of his grasp. “I just did.”
“Come on, mate. Don’t be a prat. King’s Cross is your life.”
No, Dev. You’re my life.
“You’ll be fine without me.”
Flags of crimson marked Dev’s dark cheekbones. “Rod, for fuck’s sake. Don’t throw everything away just because—”
I lowered my voice so only he would hear. “Because my supposed best mate keeps stringing me along, pulling me closer with one hand, and pushing me away with the other? Yeah.” I wasn’t worried about myself. I was pansexual and proud of it. But it wasn’t my place to out Dev to the world. Hell, he wasn’t even out to himself.
“I can’t give you what you want.” His voice broke and he turned his head away from me.
I closed my eyes. “And I can’t stand the sight of you.”
I spun on my heel and left the studio, deaf to everything except the sound of my heart cracking.
DEV
I sat at the table in kitchen of my parents’ newly renovated Hounslow home, a mid-sized two-story, five-bedroom, three-bath house, as my mother rabbited on about my sister’s upcoming wedding.
Our previous home had been a three-bedroom semi-detached house that had been much too small for our seven-member family. My three sisters had shared a room while I’d shared one with my brother. Rod had enjoyed taking the piss about rock star Dev Stone living in his parents’ tiny home and bunking with his baby brother. He’d teased me incessantly, asking if I had blue balls from the lack of a private place to jerk off.
