Four
A Menage Erotic Romance
By
S. C. Daiko
Genre: Erotic Romancee
It’s been a year since Max and I overcame our
commitment fears and chased away our demons, a year in a blissful poly
relationship with Steve. And now we’re all set to become four.
It should be the best time of my life, of our
lives; trying for a baby with the two hot men who keep me warm at night.
But when Steve’s friend James arrives from
London, an over-the-top-theatrical scene player with his own agenda, and a
whole lotta history just waiting to reignite, Steve suddenly doesn’t seem like
the guy we fell in love with.
He’s changing, morphing into a different man
before our eyes.
***
Lauren Price is
happy living with the two men she loves and life couldn’t be any sweeter. What
started as just a little fun a year ago – a girl, two guys, and a
whole lot of sex – has become a deep three-way love she hopes will last
forever.
They want to be
a four – Max, Lauren, Steve and their unborn baby. That’s what they said,
that’s what they planned.
But life in love
doesn’t follow the rules, and soon four doesn’t look quite like the
three-plus-one Lauren intended it to be.
***
There’s a sudden
shift in the atmosphere as Max and Steve move their attention toward something behind
me. Not something. Someone. I turn and stare, my mouth opening and my chin in
danger of hitting the floor. The man approaching has long dark-brown hair that
falls in waves, reaching to the top of his shoulders. Symmetrical features: an
oval-shaped face, topaz-colored eyes (accentuated with eyeliner), and perfectly
proportioned bow-shaped lips. He’s wearing shorts that barely cover his pert
ass, and his shapely legs are shaved and tanned. James isn’t much taller than
me, I guess, and I’m only five foot four. My gaze lingers over the tattoos on
his bare arms, the same tats as Steve’s. Shit!
“Good evening,”
James’ voice is surprisingly deep for such a compact man, and he speaks with a
plummy English accent. “I apologize for keeping you waiting.” It’s like he’s
some kind of celebrity making an entrance.
Steve envelops
James in a bear-hug. “Let me introduce you to Max and Lauren.”
“Haven’t we met
before?” James says to Max. “At Club Complicit, wasn’t it?”
Max laughs. “I’m
surprised you remember.”
James’ eyes rove
up and down Max’s divine body. “I would never forget a hottie like you.” And he
winks, the nerve of the guy!
I clear my
throat, and James decides to notice me. “So this is little Miss America, is it?
Delightful.”
A blush blooms
up my neck. “Pleased to meet you, James,” I lie. “Welcome to Tivoli. I hope
you’ll love it here as much as I do.”
“I’m sure I
will, darling.” Dahling indeed! James sure is over-the-top
theatrical, and I bet there isn’t a sincere bone in his body.
“So, what can I
offer you? Prosecco, perhaps?” Max lifts the bottle from the wine cooler. “This
is Cartizze from Valdobbiadene.” He pours James a glass. “It’s a match for any
champagne you’ll come across. Try it and tell me what you think.”
“We have champers
too,” Steve interjects, “but this fizz is fantastic.”
James lifts the
flute to his lips and takes a sip. “Mmm. You’re absolutely right. By far the
best prosecco I’ve tasted.” And he smiles, a smile that lifts the corners of
his mouth but doesn’t engage his eyes; it’s like he’s had a Botox injection.
“So, my dear,”
James gives my dress a disapproving look. “I was hoping you’d know the best
shops for Italian fashion.”
S. C. Daiko, aka
Siobhan Daiko, lives with her husband and two cats in northern Italy, in a
converted artist’s studio with gorgeous views across the Venetian plain.
Originally from the UK, where she was a languages teacher, Siobhan occasionally
leaves her writing cave when she has visitors, and likes nothing better than
plying them with prosecco and introducing them to the dolce
vita. An avid reader of all genres of romance, she loves writing about
strong heroines who know what they want and aren’t afraid to go for it, and hot
alpha males with loving hearts.
She loves to be stalked, and you can find her
on
She won’t spam you and there are giveaways
from time to time.
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