Addiction (Bayfront Billionaires)

Chapter One

“Ah, bliss . . .” Liv Tyner sipped her mai tai while taking in the cloudless sky and the breathtaking coastal inlet and harbor sprawled before her. The blazing sun cast a spotlight on a magnificent yacht anchored beyond the cove, stealing the thunder of every vessel occupying a slip in the marina of the exclusive Bayfront Yacht Club.

She settled more comfortably on the thick turquoise cushion of the rattan lounge chair lined up on the sunning deck of the club. A balmy breeze off the ocean caressed her bare skin as enticingly as warm fingers sweeping seductively up her legs and across her belly, sending a sensuous ripple through her.

It was a beautiful California day. The scent of brine floated on the sultry air, infused with the zesty aroma of the vat of paella simmering on the patio. Gentle waves undulated along the sandy shores of the private cove, the soothing rhythm mingling with the low background music from a steel-drum band that entertained the lunchtime diners who spilled out from the opened glass doors of the restaurant.

Liv’s best friend, Fallon Carteris, occupied the lounger next to Liv. Fallon lifted her own cocktail from the end table between their chairs, took a long drink, and then sighed contentedly, sharing Liv’s Zen.

Fallon said, “Finally, a little R&R. Not complaining, but you know, for all the effort we bridesmaids have put into Chloe’s wedding, you’d think one of us was tying the knot.”

“Oh, honey,” Liv said with a good-natured snicker. “With my crazy schedule, I don’t have a single prospect on the horizon. And I regret to inform you that marriage, for you, would be downright illegal in most states.”

“So are half the things Dev and Morgan do to me every night—and morning.” Fallon shot her a coy smile. And no doubt had a twinkle in her eyes, which were covered with sunglasses, as were Liv’s.

Liv laughed. “’Bout time those boys came around and homed in on the good thing right under their noses.”

“I understand it was difficult for Dev and Morgan to see beyond our childhood friendships and view me in a different light,” Fallon contended. “Plus I needed to hot myself up. They turn every female head. Had to up my game to compete.”

“And you are stunning.”

Fallon beamed. Rightly so. When her mother had retired from managing the housekeeping staff in the Presley mansion—Morgan’s family’s estate—Fallon had flown out to Miami to visit her for a week. And had ended up staying for three years, Zumba-ing her ass off on the beach and completely making herself over. She’d returned to Bayfront with shimmering dark-auburn tresses to complement her emerald irises, and a tanned and toned body that now turned even more heads than Devon McMillan and Morgan Presley did.

Fallon had considered herself an ugly duckling, and if that had been the case, she’d certainly emerged the swan to end all swans. She’d overcome her internal struggles, and with newfound confidence, had launched a budding skin care company, managed a restaurant in the club, and enjoyed a cozy threesome with a pair of Bayfront’s formerly sought-after eligible bachelors.

She told Liv, “The blood, sweat, and tears were well worth the reward. I am one ridiculously satisfied woman.”

“You glow as fantastically as our bride-to-be Chloe. I’m over-the-moon ecstatic for both of you. For all of our friends,” Liv added.

The small community of Bayfront—located south of San Francisco and adjacent to River Cross wine country and a two-hour drive from the celebrity-riddled Bliss Mountain Ski Resort—had become known internationally as a hotbed for the rich and affluent.

And of late, the cove had developed a reputation for embracing a scintillating alternative lifestyle—sizzling ménages.

Four of Liv’s female friends, including Fallon, had each partnered up with two fabulous men and were finding happily ever afters with a polyamorous definition of love. One that involved the sort of emotional and physical passion that permeated every aspect of these trios’ lives and clearly enriched their relationships.

Engaged couple Chloe Lockhart and John McDermott were an exception to the group of love triangles Liv was surrounded by. And Liv herself wasn’t dating even one man, let alone two.

Though she had experienced a hot and heavy ménage herself, long before her friends had ignited the trend here in town.