Her Two Men in Sonoma: An MMF Bisexual Menage Romance (Total Indulgence Book 3)
By Kristine Cayne & Dana Delamar
My heart has always been split between two men: my childhood friend and my ex-husband. They've been my everything, and we run a successful travel company together, but our love lives are a shambles. As the one-year anniversary of my divorce looms, can a couples retreat in Sonoma fix everything that's gone wrong between the three of us?
My battered heart cant take it any longer I want a baby and the manmen?of my dreams, but how can I have that when my ex has made it clear he wont share?
Everyone thinks they know me, but no one knows my terrible secret. If my ex-wife and my best friend discover the truth, it will ruin everything. Or will it?
I've loved both of them for what seems like forever. I lost her to him once before, but I'm not letting her go again. I know hes not into me, but can he learn to share the woman we both love?
HER TWO MEN IN SONOMA is a 90,000 word full-length standalone romance. Contains scorching hot MM, MF, MFM, and MMF adventures in wine country. Guaranteed HEA with no cliffhangers.
Warning: Contains an abundance of alcohol, secrets upon secrets, sexy shenanigans where they shouldn't occur, and the only truth that matters: love will find a way.
Put your tray tables up, fasten your seat belts, and let Total Indulgence Tours take you on an adventure you'll never regret!
Twenty-nine years old, divorced, and childless. Not exactly my happiest birthday ever. But I pasted on a wide smile for both sets of grandparents, for Mamá and Papá, and for my sisters, Mariposa, Isabel, and Seleste, as I hugged and kissed them and everyone else in the Rodriguez clan goodbye. They’d thrown me a lovely party, and I’d even forgotten about my troubles for a while.
But now it was time to go home, eat a pint of ice cream, drink a bottle of wine, and cry my eyes out. Alone.
As I walked down the driveway of my parents’ home, a light breeze cut through Miami’s humid air and cooled my face. Night had fallen a couple hours ago, and the sound of laughter behind me was cut off as someone shut the front door. I’d just reached my pearl-white Lexus parked in the drive when I heard a light step behind me. “Arianna.”
I closed my eyes. Only Javier Cordero, the man I’d loved all through my teenage years, could make my name sound like a caress. His rich, velvety voice curled around me, making me feel both warm and bereft at the same time. I’d grown up believing that Javi and I would marry one day. And then he’d crushed my dreams by telling me he was gay.
Pasting on another smile, I turned to him. “What is it, Javi?”
He leaned against my car, his broad frame partially blocking the glow from the motion-activated light mounted above my parents’ garage door. “You managed to give me the slip.” He reached out and touched my elbow. “That’s not like you, corazon.”
Corazon. He’d always called me that, and I’d never told him how much it hurt to hear it. Sweetheart. Like we were lovers.
“I’m just really… tired.” My voice shook a little, and I looked away.
He frowned. “You look like you’re going to cry.”
Fuck. He read me so well. I sucked in a breath, unable to look at him. “It’s been a long day, Javi.”
“A long year, you mean. Well, almost a year.”
He was alluding to my divorce from Daniel King, Javi’s best friend and our partner in Total Indulgence, the high-end travel company the three of us ran together.
“I really don’t want to talk about this. I just want to go home and wallow in my misery and not have to smile for anyone.”
“Don’t.” I raised a hand, fighting for control. “Javi, just don’t. I’m not your corazon. I’m not anything to you, other than a friend.” The words came out sharper than I’d intended, and he looked like I’d slapped him.
He held out his hand. “Give me your keys.”
“Arianna Rodriguez, you are not in any condition to drive.”
How dare he tell me I was drunk. “I am perfectly fine.” I’d only had a few drinks, and that had been a while ago. Well, except for that last one I’d downed right before leaving.
“You had at least three mojitos that I saw, and you haven’t snapped at me like that in ages. And the last time you did, you were furious. And that means even if you’re not drunk, you’re too upset to drive.”
Heat flashed up my neck and over my face. Javi hadn’t pissed me off this badly since he’d told me he about his sexual orientation. And yeah, I had been furious that time. This time, I was just… imploding. “Don’t treat me like a child.”
Javi leaned closer, his delicious spicy scent washing over me. “I’m not. I’m treating you like someone precious to me. I’d be gutted if anything happened to you.” He held out his hand again. “Let me drive you home.”
He was killing me with this kindness, and he didn’t even know it. “I just really, really need to be alone right now, Javi.” I couldn’t keep my voice steady any longer.
Reaching out, he smoothed my long black hair out of my face and cupped my cheek in his warm palm. “What you need is a friend. Your best friend in the whole world. And that’s me.” He pulled me into his arms, and a sob rose up in my chest. “Let me take you home, put you in a warm bath, and listen to how much you hate life right now.”
He hugged me tight, and I burst into tears. After I sobbed all over his white silk guayabera, I finally wiped my eyes and stepped back. “O-okay,” I hiccupped and handed him my keys.
I was done putting up a front; if Javi wanted to deal with me in this state, who was I to say no?
When we pulled up to my house in Coconut Grove—the house I’d shared with Daniel during the five years we’d been married—Javi shut off the car and hurried around to my side, opening the door and giving me a hand out. “Mi reina,” he murmured. My queen.
I smiled up at him and shook my head. “Damn it, Javi, why do you have to be so wonderful?”
He grinned at me. “Ruining you for other men?”
“Yeah.” It was the truth. “And it’s really not fair, because I can’t have you, can I?”
He offered me his elbow and I took it. That last mojito was starting to hit me, and I was wobbling a bit in my stilettos. No sense breaking an ankle on the flagstone path that led to the house.
Ignoring my question, he unlocked the front door, but before I could step inside, he scooped me off my feet and carried me over the threshold like I was his blushing bride. The way Daniel had when we’d bought this place. My heart started pounding, and I stared up at Javier. “What are you doing, Javi?”
“Turn on the lights,” he said, carrying me over to the switch plate on the wall.
I did as asked, then he carried me through the dimly lit living room and down the shadowy hall to the master suite. “Javi?”
“Lights,” he said, motioning with his head to the switch inside the bedroom door. I complied.
“What’s going on?” I asked again.
He carried me into the spacious master bath and paused by the doorway, waiting for me to turn on the lights again. Once they were on, revealing the gorgeous white bathroom that Daniel and I had designed together, Javi took me over to the plush white vanity bench in front of my sink and set me down. “Stay there,” he said, the commanding tone in his voice warning me not to argue—and turning me on at the same time. Damn him. Why did he have to be everything I wanted in a man?
Outside of Daniel, that is.
Grabbing a tea rose bath bomb from the canister on the edge of the huge tub, Javier turned on the water. He really was drawing me that bath. Steam swirled up from the tub, the rushing of the water echoing off the tiles.
I looked around, taking in the travertine marble Daniel and I had chosen for the shower, the granite we’d chosen for the countertops, the chrome fixtures we’d argued over before settling things with a sloppy kiss in the middle of the showroom floor, a kiss that had led to us barely making it home before we’d had wild sex just inside—and against—the front door, and then again on the kitchen table, and then on our brand-new sleigh bed, and then on the old black and white bathroom tile floor that we’d hated…
My bottom lip started to tremble. I missed him so much.
But it was his fault we’d divorced. He’d lied to me. We never should have married in the first place. He could have saved us so much heartache, if only he’d been honest with me.
“Hey.” Javier crouched down in front of me, placing his hands on my knees. The heat of his palms seared through the fuchsia linen sundress I was wearing.
I looked into his handsome face, with its high cheekbones, my gaze traveling over those dark eyes framed in thick black lashes, down to his perfectly straight nose and full lips. Sometimes I thought Dios had peered into my dreams and fashioned a man just for me.
But in the ultimate cruel joke, Dios had also made him gay.
Tears formed in the corners of my eyes. “Why is life so fucking unfair?” I asked.
“If we got everything we wanted, our lives would be downright boring.” He used his thumbs to wipe away the tears sliding down my cheeks.
“I was supposed to have a baby by now,” I said, the ache in my chest threatening to turn into a wail. I swallowed it down and tried to smile. “Remember when you promised me that if I was thirty and single you’d marry me? And we’d have babies?”
“Why? Why did you say that, when you knew it wasn’t going to ever happen?”
His gaze dropped to my lips for a moment, then his eyes locked on mine. “I said it because I wanted to make you happy.” His gaze dipped to my mouth again, and a tingle of electricity ran through my body. “I wanted to make us both happy.”
“But… but you’re—”
He leaned in, his forehead touching mine, his warm breath washing over my lips. “About that. I might have left something out.”
“You’re gay. What exactly did you leave out?”
He cupped my jaw in his hands, angling it just so, as if he was going to kiss me. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”
He touched his lips to mine, the kiss so gentle, so tender, I had to pull away, shaking my head. “Javi, you can’t do that. You can’t kiss me like that. I can’t take it.”
He reached back behind him and shut off the tub’s faucet before it overflowed. The sudden quiet revealed the harshness of my breathing. The harshness of his as well. Was he… was he turned on? I looked down between his legs to see a sizeable bulge tenting his slacks. I gestured to it. “Care to explain that?”
“I was trying to.” He slid a hand down to cup the nape of my neck. “When I told you I was gay back in high school, I thought it was true. But I’ve come to realize it’s not the full story.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Is this some kind of riddle, or could you just spit out what you’re trying to say?”
One corner of his mouth lifted up into that lazy half-smile I knew so well. “I’m bisexual, Ari. It took me a long time to sort out what I am, and by the time I realized it, you were already dating Daniel.”
“So, you’re saying those women you brought as your dates to family parties weren’t just cover? They really were dates?” He nodded. “Does Daniel know?”
I frowned. “Another thing he never told me. No wonder our marriage was doomed. So why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“There really wasn’t a point, once I’d figured it out. You and Daniel were getting serious. High school and college were a confusing time for me. I believed that if I was attracted to men, that meant I was gay. It took me doing some reading and talking to other people who felt like I do, to realize that it’s okay to be bi. I’m not in denial about being gay. I really am attracted to both men and women, and I enjoy having sex with both.” His eyes dropped to my lips again. “And I’ve wanted to have sex with you for a very, very long time.”
I could only stare at him. Had I fallen asleep? Was this some kind of crazy-ass dream fueled by too much alcohol and too many nights alone?
“Pinch me.” I held out my arm.
He leaned forward. “I’d much rather kiss you.” Then his lips were on mine again, and this time they weren’t gentle. This time they were demanding, and my own parted for the invasion of his tongue. It twined around mine, and slick heat pooled between my legs. A helpless little whimper slipped out of me.
Cristo, the man could kiss. If this was a dream, I didn’t want to wake up.
He drew me to my feet, then began unzipping the back of my dress, and I started unbuttoning his shirt. I pushed his shirt down his arms as my dress began to fall, and we released each other for a moment so we could drop the offending garments to the floor.
I took in the rich tan of his ripped torso with its sprinkling of black hair across his chest, his chiseled eight-pack, the perfect V of his obliques pointing down to the bulge still tenting his slacks. Javi had always been a gym rat, but I hadn’t known just how much time he’d put in there. I whistled. “¡Ay, papi chulo!” He grinned at me, making his pecs dance and flexing his biceps.
Then his eyes fell to my breasts, lingering there, and I couldn’t get my black bra off fast enough. I let it fall from my fingers, and he dipped his head down, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth, his strong fingers tugging on the other and making electricity arc from each hard peak to my pussy. I hadn’t been this turned on in a long time. When his mouth left my breast, I took his face in my hands. “Is this really happening?” I asked in all seriousness.
Javi broke into a grin. “Sí, princesa. It’s really happening.”
“Let’s take this show into the bedroom.”
Placing a hand on his shoulder for balance, I stepped out of my black stilettos, and I took his hand, giving it a little tug. He followed me into the bedroom, where he kicked off his shoes and went to work on his belt, the buckle jangling as he unzipped his slacks and left them in a heap on the floor.
Then he stepped forward, backing me into the mattress and urging me up onto it. I lay back, clad only in my lacy black panties, which he proceeded to strip off me. Dropping to his knees, he parted my legs, his lips traveling up the inside of my right thigh. I was quivering all over, and the closer he got to my pussy, the less I could control it. How many times had I fantasized about this? About Javi, the man I’d loved forever, making love to me? Being mine, in ways that went far beyond friendship?
He parted the lips of my sex, his tongue finding my clit and circling it. A throaty moan rushed out of me, and he gently sucked on that little nub, his tongue teasing me and making me writhe. He licked down to my entrance, spearing his tongue inside me, fucking me with it until I moaned, “More.” He slid two fingers through my juices, coating them, before sliding them inside me, the sudden fullness making me gasp and rock my hips into his hand.
Keeping his fingers where they were, he rose up and leaned over me, cupping my neck with his other hand and drawing my mouth to his. I could taste myself on his lips. His tongue plunged into my mouth, mimicking what his fingers were doing below, and I cried out, coming apart on his hand.
I’d slept with three men since Daniel and I had broken up, and not one of them had made me feel like this, like I was shattering into a million pieces, but safe at the same time.