Four on the Floor by Parker Grey

We’re snowed in all winter, high in the Rockies at an artist’s retreat.
Just me… and the four men who want to share me.

It was supposed to be three months of solitude and reflection. I’d paint all day, then maybe read before going to bed early. I thought I’d be surrounded by quiet, retiring artists.

I didn’t think those artists would be the world’s biggest rock band, taking a break from being in the spotlight.

And I definitely didn’t think they’d seduce me, one by one… and sometimes together.

There’s Cash, the drummer, who has smoldering eyes and muscles I can’t take my eyes off of. There’s Dalton, the bassist, who has a body sculpted from marble and a smile that makes me melt.

There’s Gavin, the British guitarist whose accent does things to me… and whose hands do much, much dirtier deeds.

And finally, there’s Slate, the mysterious lead singer whose voice alone makes me shiver.

I can’t help myself. They’re commanding, dominant, and so irresistible I can’t say no.

And best of all? They want to share me.

All four of them.