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Dare Me (A MFM Ménage Romance)

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by Vivian Ward




  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Dare Me

  Vivian Ward

  Copyright © 2017 by Vivian Ward

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  To everyone who believes in love.

  Contents

  Vivian Ward Newsletter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  One Wild Night

  Vivian Ward Newsletter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Vivian Ward Newsletter

  Our Dirty Secret

  Vivian Ward Newsletter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Caught In the Middle

  Vivian Ward Newsletter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  The Baby Is Mine

  Vivian Ward Newsletter

  1. Blake

  2. Tasha

  3. Blake

  4. Tasha

  5. Blake

  6. Tasha

  7. Blake

  8. Tasha

  9. Blake

  10. Tasha

  11. Blake

  12. Tasha

  Epilogue

  Vivian Ward Newsletter

  Also by Vivian Ward

  Vivian Ward Newsletter

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  Chapter 1

  Logan

  Making my way into the office, the cool blast from the air conditioner against my skin reminds me how terrible the summer heat has been as I wipe away a thin layer of sweat from my brow.

  The muggy St. Louis heat in July makes it almost impossible to breathe. Just from the short time that I left my car and walked from the parking garage, it felt like I was going to suffocate from the thick, humid air.

  “Good morning, Mr. Kraft,” Janice says as I enter the building.

  Out of all the legal secretaries, she’s the friendliest. It’s also probably the reason why she works for Mitch.

  Mitchell Davis is not only my friend, but he’s also a partner at Ford and Associates. Well, he’s one of the many partners at the firm.

  I’m still a senior associate and have been trying like hell to please our managing partner, Mr. Ford. He’s the founder of our law firm, and he’s the man everyone wants to impress. It doesn’t matter who you are; everyone knows Mr. Ford. He’s the big shot that can make or break you.

  Sometimes I wonder if he even notices me, but I refuse to give up.

  Oliver Ford can be a pain in the ass to work for, but he runs the biggest and best law firm in St. Louis. Located in the downtown area, our practice is less than ten minutes from the Arch and the Cathedral.

  Our firm is one of the original buildings in the area and is over 150 years old, but she stands tall and proud. The stone-like structure is well maintained, and its original gray charm is adorned with tinted glass windows with reflective golden signage to display the name
of our law office.

  Of course, only the partners have the benefit of looking out of the tall, tinted windows because each of their offices has a view.

  All of the junior and senior associates share work in a common area near our team of paralegals. Nobody gets their own office until they make partner.

  “Morning, Janice,” I nod and grin at her as I walk to my desk.

  Placing my briefcase on top of my worn, faded desk, I take a sip of the my coffee before I get down to business.

  “Did you see the new paralegal that we got this morning?” Lester asks.

  Brandon Lester is a senior associate like me, but I can’t stand him. To be honest, most people in the office don’t particularly like him, but he must impress Ford, so he’s still here. I want to knock the ridiculous toupee right off of his head.

  He started losing his hair a few years ago, and in an effort to woo the ladies, he opted for a toupee. Nobody in the firm has the heart to tell him how dumb it looks, but it kills me to look at it.

  It reminds me of a tiny birds nest, and I always imagine birds shitting on his head.

  “No, I didn’t pay any attention,” I say, shaking the mouse to wake up my computer.

  “She’s a hottie,” he smiles. “Perfect curves in all the right places.”

  His crooked grin makes me cringe. Not only is he unaware that we all think he wears a bird’s nest on his head, but we also call him Lester, the molester.

  It’s mainly because he’s always checking out all of the young paralegals and everyone knows about his manilla folder. It’s the folder he uses to hide his desk boners, but it doesn’t stop there.

  He always has the same folder, no matter what case he’s working on and everyone knows what it’s used for. He’ll stare at all the pretty paralegals until he takes his break.

  From there, he’s usually gone for about ten to fifteen minutes before he returns with his folder and sits at his desk with it right back across his lap as he continues to stare at the pool of paralegals that work for us.

  It’s sickening, but there’s not much any of us can do. We can’t exactly prove that he’s jerking off in the bathroom or that he hides constant erections. Plus, there’s no law saying that a man can’t get his dick hard when he sees an attractive female.

  And he has a girlfriend. Okay, more of a part-time girlfriend who just uses him for his money. Rumor has it that she’s only slept with him twice in the year and a half that they’ve been together.

  “That’s nice, Lester,” I say, trying my best to ignore him.

  As I’m opening my files to begin working on our most recent case, I’m interrupted when a white envelope is thrown on top of my keyboard.

  Looking up to see where it came from, I see Kelly Wilson standing across from my desk beaming at me.

  “Congratulations,” she says.

  Kelly is Mr. Ford’s legal secretary and probably the only woman in the office that anyone gives a damn about making happy. If she’s not happy, Mr. Ford’s not happy, and that’s not something anyone is willing to risk.

  “What’s this?” I ask, slowly removing the envelope from my keyboard.

  “Mr. Ford said to deliver it to you,” she giggles. “Open it up!”

  One thing that I love about Kelly is that even though she’s the big boss’s legal secretary is that she’s fun to have around. I’m pretty sure Mr. Ford hired her solely based on her skirt size and the length of her heels but with his kind of money and power, he can do whatever he wants, and nobody ever says a word.

  “Yeah. Open it,” Lester says. “Let’s see what Mr. Ford had hand-delivered to you.”

  His tone is loud, causing everyone to glance over at me.

  “Sure,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat.

  With the way Kelly’s smiling at me, I know there’s no way that this could be anything bad but I’m not sure what it is. Eager to find out, I quickly rip open the end of the envelope and see it’s some sort of invitation.

  Confused as to what it is, I take a second peek at it. That’s when the light bulb pops on, and I realize what I’m holding in my hands.

  Grinning ear to ear, I nod and look up at the other senior associates and Kelly.

  “Wow! Really?” I ask. “Mr. Ford said to give this to me?”

  This is my ticket to becoming partner—as long as I don’t blow it.

  “Yes,” she laughs.

  Her fingers delicately brush the palm of my hand as we maintain constant eye contact and she turns the envelope over.

  “See? Your name is written right here,” she points out.

  Mesmerized by her touch and in awe of what’s taking place, I slowly allow my eyes to break eye contact with her to look at the envelope where I see my name written in black ink.

  Logan Kraft is scribbled on the back, just barely legible.

  Mr. Ford wrote this himself. This is not a game or a prank.

  “What is it?” Lester asks.

  “It’s an invitation to Ford’s party,” I say.

  Even though the words are leaving my lips and sound like my voice, I barely recognize what they are or what they mean. It’s almost like I’m floating like it’s an out of body experience.

  Like it’s not really happening, but it is.

  “No fucking way,” Lester says, jealous of the revelation.

  “What’s going on?” Pardo asks, hearing the commotion.

  He’s the other senior associate besides Lester and I. At home when I’m talking to my fiancée, Piper; I often refer to him as “Parvo” because he makes me want to puke. He’s the biggest ass kisser of Mr. Ford and a complete jackass.

  “Seems that golden boy has gotten an invite to Ford’s annual party,” Lester answers before I have the chance to speak.

  “Oh yeah?” Parvo asks. “Someone’s nose is brown.”

  “It isn’t mine,” I say.

  Both of them snicker at me, acting like high school girls. Sometimes I really hate working with them and wonder how anyone could like either one of them.

  The two of them are ridiculous and have no room to talk. Out of the three of us, I’m the one who deserves the invitation to Ford’s party. I work hard, play by the books, and I don’t kiss ass to get what I want.

  My career is where it’s at because of hard work, not the ability to bullshit my way through life.

  “Golden boy seems a bit sensitive,” Lester says. “We better not upset Ford’s little pet.”

  He reaches over to pet my shoulder, but I quickly push his hand away. It’s taking everything I have not to knock the dumb ass bird’s nest off his head.

  “Watch it,” I warn him. “The only time we ever have to worry about things is when you’re around Ford. Then we all have to put our boots on to wade through your knee-deep bullshit.”

  Everyone listening to our office banter roars with laughter because they know it’s true. It also effectively puts him in his place because he knows it, too.

  “In all seriousness, congrats,” Lester says, placing his arm on my shoulder. “But just remember one thing.”

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  He leans over, putting his mouth next to my ear.

  “Just because you got yourself invited to the party doesn’t mean a thing. You still have to impress him along with the rest of the partners, and I’d watch it.”

  “Watch what?” I ask.

  “Ford,” he says as though I’m an idiot. “He only does things for his own benefit. Nothing is ever from the kindness of his heart.”

  This much I know is true but I’m not sure what I could do for Ford or what he could gain from me. Maybe I’m wrong. Perhaps the invite is an early wedding present from the old bastard.

  Chapter 2

  Logan

  “Piper?” I call out to my fiancée as I walk through the door. “Where are you?”

  I tried like hell to get a hold of her today to tell her about the invitation to Ford’s party, but she was stuck in meetings, and this is som
ething that I want to see her reaction to. This is a big deal for me, and it could be our big break.

  We could finally pay off our student loans and stop transferring our credit card balances. It could get us completely out of debt so that we can get off this hamster wheel that we’ve been on for a while.

  My fiancée works for ZenForce, the third largest business to business marketing giant in the world. There’s nothing zen-like about her job, though. They keep their employees on tight deadlines and put a lot of pressure on them to bring the biggest and best companies to the table.

  While she enjoys the work, I keep telling her that they’re taking advantage of her position. She graduated at the top of her marketing research class when she got her Master’s degree. With her knowledge and experience, they should be paying her at least double what she currently makes, but she loves the job and would probably do it for much less.

 

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