Royally Tempted (The Triple Crown Club Book 3)

by Madison Faye

  Get ready, this one’s a doozy ;).

  Scroll on for a sneak peek?!

  Chapter 1

  Adele

  I shivered as the icy chill of the water engulfed me. I came up sputtering, laughing and shrieking as the freezing cold water of the pool took the air from my lungs.

  “Holy fuck that's cold!”

  Anya raised a brow. “Hardly appropriate talk for a princess.”

  I giggled, rolling my eyes and splashing her, making her shriek.

  “Yeah neither is skinny dipping with the help.”

  Anya’s jaw dropped as she splashed me right back. “Oh you are dead,” she laughed.

  I loved pushing my best friend’s buttons like this. Technically, yes, Anya was my “personal head of royal affairs.” In the olden days, I would have called her my “head lady in waiting” or some other nonsense. But seeing as this was the modern world, she was more than just someone who laid out clothes for me and gossiped with me about royal affairs. Okay, we did all that too I guess, but she was sort of more like a personal assistant, meets secretary, meets personal trainer, meets fashion help, with a big dose of best friend.

  She wasn’t directly royalty, not by blood — and yes, people still kept track of that stuff even in this day and age. But with her mother being on my father’s royal council and her father being a judge, her official title was “lady.”

  I could vouch there there were many unladylike things about Anya, but a best friend never squeals.

  We were the same age, but she was much more worldly than me, having not been raised in the proverbial glass tower I’d been. She’d been to parties, she’d traveled, had boyfriends, had sex.

  You know, unlike me.

  Not for lack of wanting it, I can tell you, but it’d just never happened. For one, because — again, as if this were the ancient world — I was supposed to be “waiting” until I was married off to some prince or something. The problem there was that most, if not all, princes sucked. They were primped, and pretty, and smelled like perfume. And sure, they were usually good looking, but it was always in this store-bought sort of “fake” way. I’d thought plenty of times about running off and just “getting it over with” — just having sex and being done with it. But then, the problem was that any of the ready and available princes who were more than happy to deflower a virgin princess were all that — princes. Polished, primped, arrogant, and snobby.

  Basically nothing that ever turned me on. My problem was, the kind of men who gave me shivers or kept me up at night thinking bad thoughts about were not the prince-ly type. I dreamt of hardened, gruff, manly men. Men with chest hair, maybe older — men who worked with their hands.

  Basically the kind of man I could never be with, being a princess.

  I was always jealous of Anya for having the freedom she had not being true royalty, and I ended up living vicariously through her when she’d go to parties or on dates with the kind of guy I secretly lusted over.

  In another world, she’d be my bad influence — sneaking me out and helping me get to parties. But no, Anya was actually almost like a big sister at times despite being the same age. She was protective, and honestly saw it as her job as both my head of affairs and best friend to keep me out of trouble, not bring me to it.

  Something like today was a nice compromise. It wasn’t parties with drinking and guys, but an escape from the castle life anyways. We’d been coming here to the spring pools in Withering Wood since we were kids. These days, people seemed to have mostly forgot about the pools and waterfall out here. The hiking paths had all but disappeared, and coming out here felt like a true adventure. Plus, it was hot as hell outside, and a cold dip felt awesome.

  “Okay, first of all.” Anya sighed. “This is not skinny dipping. Skinny dipping is nude — underwear is basically like wearing a swimsuit.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Details details. I can strip if you really want the full skinny dipping with royalty experience.”

  She laughed. “Hey you do you. This water is fucking cold enough without getting totally nude. Besides, with skin like yours? Keep that shit covered if you can or you’ll burn.”

  “Yes mother,” I drawled.

  She stuck her tongue out at me as she crawled up onto one of the big flat rocks by the water.

  “I’m just saying, you’re like, beyond pale.”

  “Yeah, which is why I should get a freaking tan for once.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Nah, don’t. I think tans are overrated. Besides, you look great. With your skin tone with that hair? Please.”

  “I look like a shut in.”

  “No way! Honestly, you’ve got great skin. When the rest of us are all wrinkly when we get older, you’ll be a knockout.”

  A knockout, like Anya was now. Golden skin, long luxurious chestnut hair, and thin hips. Okay, I had her beat in the curves department by a long shot, but still — pale skin and jet black hair wasn’t exactly the fairy tale image of the princess. She was.

  I sighed as I joined her on the rock, laying out and letting the sun warm us. Dainty skin or not, we were basically totally under tree cover here. The sun filtered down through leafy greenery, warming just enough to get the chill of the mountain stream pool off our skin.

  “We should probably head back soon,” she sighed. “Before they send a search party for you and arrest me for kidnapping you.”

  “I wouldn’t want to be kidnapped by anyone else.”

  She laughed. “Well, besides, you’ve got that dress fitting tonight for that ball.”

  I groaned. “Do not remind me.”

  “Hey, princess duties. Besides, it’s my job to remind you. Literally.”

  “It’s going to be stupid.”

  “It’s going to be fun! A ball, at your uncle’s palace in Avlion? Dude, fancy dresses, a gorgeous castle, lots of cute single guys, and duh, your cousins?”

  I grinned, thinking of Isla, Imogen, and Ilana. Okay, it as going to be great to see them, but the rest of it could go stuff itself.

  “Princes, Anya. They’re the worst.”

  “There are some hot princes out there, for the record, some of which are going to that ball I hear.”

  “Like?”

  “Prince Magnus, of Zale?”

  I made a face. “Uh, manwhore much?”

  “Could be what you need?”

  I blushed as she stuck her tongue out at me.

  “There’s the Charming brothers?”

  I bit my lip. “Okay, granted, hot.”

  “See?”

  “But, eh, not my type.”

  “You have no type. Hence being eighteen and a virgin.”

  “No thanks to you!”

  She laughed. “Ooo, there’s Prince Logan”

  My brow went up. “The scary dude from Torsund?”

  She grinned. “Be honest, he is kinda hot.”

  “But terrifying.”

  Anya laughed. “But definitely terrifying.”

  “Ugh, okay fine. Dress fitting it is.”

  Anya jumped up and dove into the water coming up shrieking.

  “Fuck that’s cold. Okay, that was my last one. I’m going to go dry off and pee and put some clothes on.”

  “Yeah, same.”

  I didn’t jump in, I just jumped off onto the dirt and moss of the tree-line and grabbed my discarded sun dress. My skin was basically dry at that point, so I figured I’d just just take the damp underwear off and wear the dress home to the palace.

  I ducked into the woods and behind a tree and slipped my bra off. I shivered a little, slipping the soaking wet panties down my legs and kicking them off. It’s a weird feeling being naked in the woods, but there was something so fun about it. And for second, I could pretend I wasn’t Princess Adele of Berne and just pretend I was some forest person living here in the trees. I could smell the scent of the woods, and feel the moss and the leaves beneath my bare feet. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the clean, fresh air.

 
There was a breeze suddenly, and my daydreaming was cut short by my sundress suddenly blowing from my fingers. I cursed and raced after it, my bare feet padding over the mossy ground as I ducked behind another tree and finally caught it with my toe.

  “Stupid dress,” I muttered, sighing and standing as I yanked it off the ground and—

  And I froze.

  I would have screamed, but I couldn’t, not with my heart in my throat like that.

  The man was three feet from me, and positively oozing raw masculinity. He towered over me, his dark eyes burning right into mine, his stubbled jaw tight, and his bare chest heaving and sweaty. He was like a hero from a romance book stepping right off the pages. He was the rough, masculine man from my most private dreams, come to life.

  And here I was three feet from him, completely naked with just a sundress in my hands, barely covering me.

  The camouflage pants he wore, along with the rifle slung over his shoulder and the camo pack on his back made him military without a doubt. For a second, I almost screamed again, thinking he might be one of the separatist fighters that had taken to the hills on the outskirts of Berne. But my eyes landed on the patch on his pack, the rough seal of Berne. Which meant he was our soldier — a soldier in my father’s royal guard.

  I should have screamed.

  I should have ran.

  I should have gotten as far away from the strange, gorgeous woodsman as quickly as I could.

  …What I shouldn’t have done was stay right where I was. What I shouldn’t have done was let my eyes just fall into his.

  And what I definitely shouldn’t have done, there in those woods all alone with him, was get incredibly turned on.

  Bossed Three Times

  Bossed Three Times

  Three times the fantasy, three times the trouble.

  I’ve got a dirty secret. A crush. Specifically, on my boss.

  Well, bosses.

  All three of them. Not one, and not two, but three. Three huge, dominant, possessive, gorgeous men.

  And you want to know the really dirty part?

  They want to make me theirs. They want to make me submit, and make me feel things I’ve never felt before. Things I’ve never dared to dream about.

  Three men with an offer of a lifetime – the chance to fulfill the dirtiest, filthiest, most forbidden fantasy a girl could ever imagine.

  There’s only one question. Do I dare?

  They say two is a party and three’s a crowd, but I don’t think that’s right.

  Three is perfect. The filthiest, hottest, most mind-blowing type of perfect imaginable.

  That is, if I can handle it.

  Bossed Three Times is a hot, steamy read involving a mfmm menage romance with three utterly obsessed alpha heroes. This is all about her – no m/m. If you love over-the-top, slightly unrealistic, and wildly dirty romance with plenty of steam, this one’s for you! HEA with NO CHEATING!

  Copyright © 2016 Madison Faye

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review purposes.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission.

  This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. It contains extremely sexually explicit and graphic scenes and language which may be considered offensive by some readers. This book is strictly intended for those over the age of 18.

  All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older. All acts of a sexual nature are completely consensual.

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  Chapter 1

  The door to the garage slammed shut, startling me from the book I was reading at the dining room table. I’d heard the familiar sound of Jason’s car pulling into the garage a few minutes before, followed by the familiar sound of the automatic garage door grinding back down. But the fury in the door-slam and the mutterings down the hall told me something was up.

  It also told me he was drunk.

  I sighed and dropped the book to the table, rubbing my temples. I glared at the time and at then at the dinner I’d made, now sitting cold on the table.

  “Everything alright, honey?”

  “It’s fine,” came the sharp response from the hallway, followed by my boyfriend’s stomping steps to the kitchen. Another sigh escaped me as I glanced down at the copy of Honing Your Resume I’d been paging through while waiting for him.

  I wasn’t working these days, since Jason had insisted that it was his job to “provide” ever since we’d moved in together the month before. I’d gone along with it, because you do things you never thought you’d do when you think you love someone.

  I wasn’t so sure of that after a month of playing second fiddle to Jason’s career — “career”, or rather, his propensity for going out to drinks after work and leaving me bored and stir-crazy back at home. I had a damn masters degree, for crying out loud, and here I was playing housewife all day while my boyfriend was out half the night getting wasted. I’d thought about getting back into the workforce, but the number of job offers I had before we moved in together dwindled, until there was nothing but an empty inbox waiting for me every day.

  “The hell are you reading, Arianna?”

  I glanced up to see Jason swaying in the doorway, holding a fresh beer from the fridge and reeking of whiskey even from across the room. My eyes dropped to his collar, and suddenly my blood was boiling.

  Lipstick.

  There on his shirt collar, like the most ridiculous cliche out of a movie.

  “Where were you,” I said evenly, ignoring his question.

  “None of your damn business.”

  I stood and felt my hands ball into fists at my sides, glaring at him.

  “Well it is my business, actually, because I’ve been sitting here with dinner waiting for you.”

  “Such a fuckin nag,” Jason muttered, swigging from his beer. My gaze moved from the lipstick on his collar to his messed-up hair, the smug look on his face, and I rolled my eyes.

  I wasn’t even shocked at this point, just mad at myself for staying this long. Of course this was how this debacle of a relationship was going to end. The zero communication and all his secrets, the fact that he had all the time in the world to go out with “clients” but no time for me, and the fact that after three months of no sex or any intimacy at all, I was starved for some physical attention

  And he came home with the lipstick of some other woman on his collar.

  “Oh fuck you, Jason, you think you can just—”

  The slap came hard, knocking the wind out of me and leaving a stinging heat across my cheek.

  The room went silent and still for a second before I whirled back at him, hand on my cheek and my jaw dropped in shock.

  “Are you fucking serious?”

  Jason suddenly paled, as if suddenly sobering enough to see clearly.

  “Shit, baby.” His eyes were wide and he shook his head.

  “Baby, I’m just drunk is all,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry, baby, you know I lov—”

  “Don’t.”

  My voice was ice cutting through his wor
ds.

  “Don’t even say that, Jason.”

  Because that moment right there in that dining room was like a puzzle piece clicking into place. Right then, everything made sense.

  “Actually,” I hissed, shaking my head at him. “Don’t ever say it to me again.”

  I stormed off to our room before he could even say anything else. I grabbed a suitcase from the closet, half expecting him to run in and stop me, and not at all surprised when he didn’t. Five minutes later, I was stalking towards the front door with a suitcase rolling behind me.

  Jason laughed when he saw me.

  “You’re leaving?”

  “Yeah,” I hissed, jabbing a finger at him as I snatched my resume book off the table. “Yeah Jason, I’m leaving.”

  He laughed again.

  “Over one little slap? Jesus.” He rolled his eyes and slugged his beer. “I bet I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “No, you won’t, asshole.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me, sitting at the table and picking at the cold dinner I’d made.

  “Bitch, yes I will.”

  This time, I only flipped him off as I whirled and stormed away. I grinned wickedly seeing the keys to his Porsche laying on the table by the door to the garage.

  Fuck him.

  The engine roared triumphantly and I pulled out the garage. The front door to the house opened a second later as Jason recognized the sound of his prized car, but I only flipped him off out the window as I roared away, watching the image of him shaking his fist at me get smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.

  Chapter 2

  “I think you’ve got a great shot.”

  I took a big gulp of my wine and raised a brow at Sasha.

  I’d been staying with my friend for almost a week now, and while it was amazing to have such a great friend to take me in, I knew myself, and I knew I needed my independence. Luckily, I’d just landed a job interview for a secretary position.