[Ménage Amour: Erotic Ménage a Trois Romance, M/M/F, paranormal elements, HEA]
Adrian Asorio can't seem to move on after the death of his beloved wife Angelina. While trying to fill the lonely hours in his empty life, he discovers Minerva's Mystic Museum. A painting of a female artist painting a nude male model fascinates him. He finds himself thinking about, and wanting, the male model. He begins to question his sexuality.
Adrian is chosen as this full moon's mystic walker. He is transported to Dulce Isle where he meets Jon and Rosa in the flesh. Adrian must confront his newly discovered sexual orientation and overcome the guilt he feels.
Rosa DeVario and Jon Balentine shared a life with Rosa’s husband, Leon. When Leon died, both were heartbroken. Without Leon as their common denominator, Jon has reverted to his "loving men only" lifestyle, leaving Rosa without a partner.
Will Adrian's arrival on Dulce Isle be the answer that mends three tattered and broken lives? The universe has provided the opportunity…Adrian's heart holds the key.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Every full moon Minerva stands outside the doors of the Mystic Museum. She is its appointed guardian and caretaker. She watches for the sign indicating the chosen mystic walker. The light of the full moon will swirl around the mystic walker creating a radiant aura that can be seen only by the guardian. It is the guardian’s duty to guide the chosen one to their destined path.
* * * *
It was Saturday night. Adrian sat at his kitchen table. The TV, his only means of escape, had just gone on the fritz. He pushed the food around in the black microwavable container. It was quick and easy to make these dinners, but they were a tasteless fare. He went to the door. He grabbed his sweater and umbrella before he stepped through it. It wasn’t raining, but the weatherman had warned of the possibility.
He stepped outside. Between the gathering clouds, he could make out a full moon. He decided to go to the museum. It would be the first time he’d gone at night.
He walked up the granite stairs to the museum’s door. He chanced to see the raven-haired woman dressed in black. She looked up toward the moon, now shining brightly through a break in the clouds. She nodded and smiled before she left. He’d seen her many times before. He wondered if she was the Minerva the museum was named for. He pushed the doors open and went inside.
His feet automatically took him to his favorite spot. He sat down and gazed at his imaginary lover. The raven-haired woman stepped between him and the painting. Her charcoal-lined eyes drew him in. He noticed her translucent skin. She appeared ethereal. She seemed something like an angel, except angels didn’t wear makeup, or skintight black dresses. She held his gaze for quite some time. He felt emotions churning in his mind and heart. It was as if she was inside him, sorting through the dead and decaying garbage building up in his soul.
“It is quite an interesting work, wouldn’t you say?” she asked when she finally spoke.
He rose as any gentleman would.
She smiled a friendly greeting. “I am Minerva, caretaker of this museum.”
“It’s a nice place.”
“We try to make people happy. What do you think of this piece?” She tilted her head.
“The model has such a compelling form. Even a man such as yourself can appreciate his male beauty. I know he sets my heart a-flutter.” She smiled.
“I can and I do.” Does she know how I feel about him?
She stepped to the side and stood next to him. She seemed enthralled with the painting. The room the red-haired artist painted in was bright, and sunlight streamed in from everywhere. Windows seems to enclose the room. The paintings sitting on the floor leaned against the glass walls and rested against each other. In some places they were two and three deep. A vase of fresh flowers, roses by the look of them, adorned a small table next to the woman.
After a long moment, she asked, “Do you think they are in love?”
“I never really thought about that,” he said. I imagine him loving me.
“It is a shame we cannot see his face.”
“That, I have thought about,” Adrian remarked.
“Have you come to any conclusions?”
“I’m not a connoisseur of art,” he said. “But his body is fit and desirable. Maybe he is faceless so we can imagine someone ourselves.”
“Or possibly he is disfigured.”
“Hmm, that wouldn’t stop her or anyone from loving him,” he said.
“Do you think so?”
“You sound sure of that.” She placed her hand on his arm for a moment.
“This picture touches my soul. I don’t know why.” He cleared his throat embarrassed by his admission.
“It was painted in a small town populated by peasants and struggling artists.” She removed her hand.
“What is the town called?” His mind raced. Maybe he could go there and find him. He needed to find out what was going on in his mind and heart. These cravings were in his head. He wouldn’t be able to act on them, would he? He needed to know.
“You’d like to go there?”
“I think I would.” He looked into her eyes.
“I believe you do.” She moved in front of him again. She reached for his hand, he met it halfway. She placed her other hand on his heart. “You do not have to feel this way. Loneliness has played here long enough.” She tapped his chest. “Love waits for you. Follow your heart’s true desires.” She lifted her eyes to his. “You will find them at the end of Clearview Lane behind Rosa’s door.” She removed her hands and walked away.
“On Dulce Isle,” he heard her say as the universe shifted.
He closed his eyes against the wave of nausea that assailed him. When he opened his eyes, he was on his hands and knees, and he was retching his insides out.
Rosa paced the length of her bedroom. Nervous pent-up sexual desire had her wide awake. Her negligee didn’t help her condition either. Silky as it was, it caressed her nipples, making them bud.
She looked at the small grandfather clock on the fireplace mantle. The pendulum swung to a precise rhythm. Eleven o’clock it chimed. Eleven wasn’t that late. She would pay Adrian a late-night visit. She rarely had sex with a man the first time she met him. Adrian was special. She was going to follow her instincts about this man.
Rosa flowed down the hall past Jon’s door. Jon’s room was close to the master suite as a matter of convenience. She had Adrian housed here in the hopes that he’d be interested in a tryst either with her or with Jon, hopefully with both of them. Her husband had opened her eyes to what loving two men was about. Loving two men, that loved to love each other, was even better yet. She looked wistfully but didn’t pause as she passed Jon’s door. First things first.
She tapped lightly on Adrian’s door. If he was sleeping, she didn’t want to disturb him. A moment later, Adrian’s bare chest filled the space of the door he’d just opened. Jon had lent him pajama bottoms, she noticed.
His face registered surprise at seeing her. His eyes were filled with a man’s appreciation and desire. She chanced a glance at his crotch. His cock shouted where his proclivity pointed. He did still like women.
“Rosa,” he said. His voice seemed overly deep.
“Am I disturbing you, Adrian?” she asked.
“No, I was just getting ready to go to bed.”
She smiled. “That sounds tempting.” He remained in the doorway. “May I come in?” she asked.
“I…I…” he stammered.
“Adrian, don’t be embarrassed. I am a pretty direct kind of person.” She looked at him, trying to gauge his feelings. In for a penny, in for a pound. “In the light of our earlier conversation, I thought you might be interested in some company. Our banter has me wound up pretty tight. I could use some release. I was hoping you would oblige me.” She gave him a sultry smile. The smile she knew drove a man wild. “Can you help me out, Adrian?” She sighed and ran her hand down his chest through its light smattering of hair, down to his pajama pants where she expertly dipped inside the elastic waistband to capture his engorged rod. “I see that you can,” she purred.
His breath hitched.
He looked surprised. He looked hungry. He looked confused. “What is it, Adrian?” she asked stroking his implement.
“I haven’t had a woman since my wife died.”
“I can’t say the same for me about my husband. I’ll be more than happy to reintroduce you to sex.”
“Adrian, trust me. It won’t hurt.” She giggled. “Unless you want it to.” She pinched his nipples with her free hand.
“You aren’t afraid I’ll hurt you? After two years, I may not be able to control my desire. I could go a little crazy. Angelina didn’t like it when I lost control.”
“I like a good wild fuck every now and again. I’m feeling like that might be in order tonight. My cunt is already hot and ready. Just as ready as you are.” She stroked the length of his shaft.
She moved away from him and stood near the bed. She removed her robe and dropped it to the floor. “Do you want to see my body, Adrian?”
He nodded dumbly, his eyes burning with barely contained desire.
She slipped out of the straps and let her negligee slide below her breasts.
His gaze devoured her. Oh how she loved the feeling a man’s desire gave her. Her pussy began to drip. She cupped her breasts in her hands, and the negligee slid over her shapely hips as it floated to the floor.
He licked his lips. His hunger was evident.
“Your bottoms, Adrian, I’d like some company in this state of undress.” He stepped out of his bottoms immediately. He was looking at her with the same intent that a cat displayed just before it was ready to pounce on a mouse.
“That’s better. Do you want to fuck me, Adrian?” She strutted in front of the bed.
Speechless, he nodded. His hands seemed to twitch.
“Tell me, Adrian. Tell me you want to fuck me. You’ll tell me what you want, and I will tell you what I want. Do we have a deal?”
“Tell me, Adrian.”
“We have a deal,” he said in a horse whisper.
“What do you want, Adrian?”
“I want to fuck you,” he rasped as if it was pulled from him with great difficulty.
She moved as she spoke, a sensuous nymph, acting out her words. “What would you do if I were to lie on the bed and spread my legs wide for you like this?”
His hand had gone to his crotch as if he were in pain.
“Tell me, Adrian. Show me, Adrian.” She fingered her pussy. Her legs spread wide inviting him.
He swallowed hard. “I want…” He closed his eyes as if in pain.
“Adrian, Angelina would want you to enjoy your life. She would want you to continue to live without her. She is probably very upset with you because you haven’t moved on.”
“I do need to move on…for her and for me.” He sounded sad.
“Adrian, look at me.” She waited until her eyes were locked with his. “I am here, flesh and blood. My body aches for you. Show me that you are alive. Honor her memory by being alive. Let us rejoice in life together. Fuck me and let’s live again.” She stretched her arms out to him. “Mount me, Adrian, and fuck me like the stallion I know you are.”
“My wife never talked like you do.”
“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”