Apres-Ski for Three: MMF Menage Romance
By Eva Moon
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About this ebook
A menage hot enough to melt the snowpack...
Andrea Clark has been saving for her Aspen ski trip for over a year, and nothing's going to ruin it...until an obnoxious drunk gets handsy with her at the bar. A sexy-as-sin, ex-military bodyguard named Steven Dixon intervenes to help her, bouncing the drunk before she can stab the guy with her shrimp fork. It turns out Steven is the bodyguard for billionaire Bryce Rhodes...and the charming billionaire is every bit as gorgeous as Steven. When Bryce invites her to join them on the ski slopes, she can't turn down the chance to have fun with two handsome, captivating men. Besides, this might lead to the perfect après-ski—socializing after a day on the slopes—for three... One that promises to be completely unforgettable.
Bryce Rhodes is a Harvard-educated, private money manager who has turned his family's ill fortunes around and become one of the hottest billionaires in the country. He's in love with Steven, but one look at Andrea's enchanting smile and her generous curves and both men are smitten. She's perfect for them, and the nights the three of them share are hot enough to melt the coldest ice. But when Bryce's ex-wife shows up at the luxury resort, it's clear she is looking for trouble. His ex only married him for the money, but she was mortified when Bryce took Steven as a lover after their divorce. Now his ex is scheming to ruin a perfect winter vacation—and a perfect winter love—for once and for all.
After retiring from the Special Forces, Steven Dixon began working as a bodyguard to the rich and famous. He's been guarding Bryce for three years now and sleeping with him for one. He knows it's risky, but he can't give it up. He's never known another man like Bryce—the first man he was ever with, the first one who ever tempted him. Women like Andrea were more his type, and Andrea in particular pushes all his buttons in all the right ways. It almost seems greedy to want both Bryce and Andrea, but how can a simple man resist? But getting involved with his client and the gorgeous, curvy Andrea might put all three of them in jeopardy. Because Bryce's ex is willing to do whatever it takes to get even...
Reader note: contains MMF bisexual menage romance, BBW heroines, billionaires, bodyguards, male male love, and a happily ever after
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Apres-Ski for Three - Eva Moon
Table of Contents
Cover
Table of Contents
Look for these titles from Eva Moon
Title Page
Copyright Warning
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
About the Author
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Finding Mr. Rights
Après-Ski for Three
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Threesome Thrill
Après-Ski for Three
Eva Moon
Etopia Press
Copyright Warning
EBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/).
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Published By
Etopia Press
1643 Warwick Ave., #124
Warwick, RI 02889
http://www.etopiapress.com
Après-Ski for Three
Copyright © 2018 by Eva Moon
ISBN: 978-1-949719-13-0
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Etopia Press electronic publication: November 2018
~ Dedication ~
For C. M.
CHAPTER ONE
Icy winter sidewalks and Andrea Clark’s new pair of kitten heel Balenciagas weren’t a match made in heaven. Still, she managed to make it from the curb where her Uber dropped her to the front door of the Summit Grill with only a few minor stumbles. She shook her hair out, squared her shoulders, and walked through the gilt-edged door and into the warm foyer of Aspen’s hottest restaurant.
It was almost too hot, actually. The foyer was crowded with people waiting for a table, some of them as dressed up as she was, some of them still wearing puffy jackets and ski boots. Aspen was definitely a different type of animal than Los Angeles. Andrea took off her scarf and jacket, fluffed her long blonde hair out over the shoulders of her short sweater dress, and made her way to the hostesses.
A tiny, dark-haired woman looked up at her and smiled. How can I help you, Miss?
I’ve got a reservation for dinner at eight, under Clark.
She waited for the hostess to look her up, resisting the urge to smooth her hands over the ultra-soft cashmere stretched over her hips. Feeling herself had never felt so good. Don’t quit your day job for songwriting, she thought wryly.
Ah yes, I have you here! Can I get your number?
She wrote it down next to Andrea’s name. If you’d care to wait at the bar, I’ll send you a text soon as your table is available.
Sounds perfect.
Andrea followed the hostess past the press at the door and to the bar, situated just in front of the kitchen. It was packed too, but she got lucky, finding a seat to slide onto just as an older gentleman was leaving it. He tipped his hat to her before he walked off, which made her grin. She crossed one leg over the other, straightened her skirt out just because she could, and checked the itinerary she’d pulled up on her phone.
Confirm dinner reservation at 8, check. Grab a drink at the hotel bar at 7:30, check. Head to Club Zephyr for live jazz at 9:30. Bed at 10:30, up at 6:30 for breakfast at 7 at the hotel’s breakfast buffet, then hit the slopes by 8.
Her schedule was crowded, but Andrea was determined to make the most of every minute of her long weekend in Aspen. She was glad she hadn’t gone with her first impulse to reschedule after her best friend Shannon had been forced to cancel. She needed the break from school and work, a chance to let her hair down and not worry about accounting or spreadsheets.
Anything to drink, Miss?
Andrea looked up at the cute blond bartender just in time to see him checking her out. This new dress did good things to her generous curves, and it was nice to have her efforts noticed. I’ll take a glass of the house Pinot Grigio, and…
She glanced at the tapas menu and listened to her stomach kick up a rumble. And an order of your shrimp cocktail.
You got it.
The drink came almost immediately, the shrimp a few minutes after. The bartender lingered for a moment like he was looking for an excuse to stay, but the crowd was too big for him to ignore for long.
Andrea took a bite of the shrimp, enjoying the cool tang of the cocktail sauce, and then washed it down with a sip of wine. Delicious. It was the perfect start to a perfect evening.
A sudden splash of cold liquid across her hip put an end to that illusion. Whoa!
She got up from her stool and reached for the nearest cocktail napkin to soak up what she could.
Oh shit, I’m sorry,
the young guy next to her stammered, the highball glass in his hand half-empty. It’s so crowded in here, somebody shoved me, and I didn’t have time to catch myself before—here, let me help you clean that up.
He reached up to take off his Burberry scarf, but Andrea held up a hand.
No thanks, I’m fine.
At least he’d been drinking a clear drink—gin and tonic, from the smell of it. Her dress would dry without a stain.
I feel so bad about this, seriously.
Yeah, she could tell he was feeling bad—that’s why he was speaking to her breasts instead of meeting her eyes. It was one thing for the bartender to flirt. After all, he hadn’t dumped alcohol all over her.
It isn’t a problem,
she said, hoping he’d get the hint and go. She checked to make sure that her stool was dry, then sat down and turned away, hoping to signify that their conversation was over.
Mr. Gin and Tonic didn’t take the hint, though. Instead, he wedged himself in-between her stool and the next one over. Listen…
He set his drink down on the counter and snapped his fingers at the bartender for a refill.
Jackass.
How about you come spend some time with me and my friends, let me cover your drinks for the rest of the night?
His smile was too wide, and his hands were too damn close to her. Andrea tried to shift backward a little, but that only encouraged him to drift even closer.
No, I’m fine. I’m waiting for a friend,
she added because some jerks needed a little extra incentive to leave a woman alone.
Bring her too.
I’m really not interested.
His smile vanished, replaced by an irritated frown. "Jesus, I’m just trying to be nice, OK? Look. He put his hand on her shoulder, sliding it slowly down her arm to her elbow. Andrea tried to tug away, but he only tightened his grip.
You’ll have fun, I promise."
Andrea glared at him. Let go of me.
Not until you say you’ll join us.
That was it. Andrea reached for her shrimp fork, ready to stab this dickface right through his damn wrist.
His grip vanished faster than she could close her fingers around the silverware though. Andrea turned and watched as her unwanted company was dragged backward and put into an arm lock by a guy at least six inches taller than he was. The new guy’s head was shaved bare, and his goatee was so close-cut it was hardly more than a shadow around his mouth and chin. He wore a plain black T-shirt and jeans, and his arms were covered with vivid tattoos. He opened his mouth, and Andrea half-expected to hear a growl emerge.
When he spoke, though, he sounded perfectly urbane. It seems like you’re having trouble hearing. Let me help you with that. See, when someone tells you to leave them alone, you apologize for inconveniencing them and then go away.
Fucking let me go, man!
His grip tightened perceptibly, and the rude guy whimpered. Now you’re starting to get it. It’s no fun when someone puts their hands on you when you don’t want it. So how about you apologize to the lady, then I apologize to you, and we call it square? Or,
and now a rough, gravelly undertone entered his voice, hard enough to make Andrea shiver, I’ll escort you outside, where you just might fall and break something. How’s that sound?
Sorry!
All the charm, as well as all the fight, had dribbled out of the first man’s demeanor, leaving him looking kind of like a floppy, high-pitched fish. I’m really sorry!
Nice,
the tattooed man said with a nod. He let go of the guy, who immediately raced off through the crowd, bouncing off of people like a pinball and leaving mutters in his wake.
Huh.
The newcomer glanced at Andrea with a half-smile. He didn’t even wait for my apology.
Andrea smiled back. I think it would have been wasted on him.
Still, let’s make sure he doesn’t get a second wind, huh?
He leaned over the bar, and the bartender was there immediately. Can you send security to make sure that the man who was just harassing this young lady has left the building? Yellow cardigan, plaid scarf—
Absolutely, sir,
the bartender said, looking mortified. I’m so sorry, I saw him, but we’re slammed tonight, and I didn’t realize he was being inappropriate. I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.
He darted away, and Andrea felt her eyebrows rise. Wow, he jumped right to it. Who is this guy?
The seat next to her became free, and the man gestured to it. Do you mind if I join you?
Did she mind? Not at all.
She crossed her legs to make a little more room for him. He needed it to get his legs in there, because damn, he was tall. And hot like a five-alarm fire.
Maybe this