by Madison Faye
"Gino," Nico sputters out. Well, really it sounds more like "Nino" with his broken nose.
"Gino, listen—"
"You shut your fuckin mouth," Gino hisses. He glances over at Dylan and narrows his eyes.
"I'm not big on thank yous, so, we're gonna skip that part. But listen, this whole porno thing?" He makes a sour face and glances around. "Not my thing. And it seems my nephew here pulled some real fucked up shit with the two of you. So…" He sighs heavily, and suddenly, he's spinning the gun in his hand and holding it out towards Dylan, butt-first.
"He wronged your girl here, kid," Gino mutters. "You do whatever you think you gotta do to bury this thing, okay?"
The room goes quiet, except for Nico blubbering on the floor. Dylan stares at the gun in Gino's hand for a long minute, before slowly, he shakes his head.
"I've settled what needs settling," he says, his words measured as he meets the older man's eyes. "And that's not for me. Not anymore," he adds, his eyes moving to me and holding there.
Gino shrugs. "Suit yourself." He holsters his gun before he suddenly kicks his toe into Nico's side. "Guess that means you're comin' with me, you ungrateful fuck."
“Hang on.”
Dylan drops down and glares at Nico before he tears open his jacket pocket. A small, portable hard drive tumbles out, and Dylan grabs it.
“This it?”
Nico swallows, and I watch as Dylan’s face darkens and his hand clenches into a fist.
“Is. This. It.”
“Yeah, okay? Yes!” Nico hisses.
“Any other back-ups?”
Nico is silent, but when one of Gino’s guys kicks a heel into his side, he groans and doubles up.
“My laptop! In the office. I swear those are the only two copies.”
Dylan stands.
“Have a nice life, shit-head,” he spits down at Nico before nodding at Gino. “He’s all yours.”
Nico’s eyes go wide.
"Wait! Gino!"
"Get him the fuck outta here," Gino grumbles as his guys haul a sobbing Nico away.
He turns back to Dylan. "I don't know what sort of shit Nico had you running, but you seem like a smart kid. Smart enough to know running security in this gig is fuckin gamble. So how about this. I don't want no bad blood with all this shit, and trust me, you don't wanna work for me. So, you're done. Whatever you had worked out with Nico, consider it over. That work for you?"
Dylan doesn't even pause to think about.
"Yep."
"Good. We're done here, the both of you."
Dylan and I glance at each other, when Gino clears his throat.
"That means get the fuck out."
Las Vegas looks weird in the sunlight.
Outside the studio door, we both blink in the glare of the afternoon sun beating down on the crummy parking lot.
Dylan shrugs, hoisting the backpack that carries the laptop and hard drive with our movie on it.
"So, what now?"
I laugh before I turn and throw myself into his arms.
"Now we go find you a doctor, because you got shot."
He grins and rolls his eyes. "I told you, it's nothing."
"Dylan—"
"Besides," he purrs into my ear, the heat of his voice instantly turning me to jelly as a shiver runs up my spine. "Apparently I've got the day off of work, and I just happen to have the hottest, sexiest girl in the world, who also happens to be the love of my life, on my arm wearing one hot little cheerleading costume."
I laugh, throwing my head back and letting the sun wash over me as I sink into his arms.
"Oh really?"
He shrugs. "Oh, really. It's one hot little getup, let me tell—"
"The other part, dummy." I grin, biting my lip.
Dylan's eyes burn into mine as the smile creeps over his face. "Oh that part? About you being the love of my life?"
I nod, swallowing thickly.
"Yeah that's the most absolute truth I've ever known in my life, angel," he says quietly before he pulls me into him fiercely. "I love you, Rose. With every damn part of me. And I damn well always will."
"I love you," I whisper heatedly as he pulls me into him. His lips find mine, and when we crash together, the rest of the world fades away until it's just he and I.
"So," Dylan clears his throat as he pulls away, and I shriek as he picks me up in his arms. "So what was this about you wanting to play doctor?"
I roll my eyes, grinning. "You know that's not what I said— oooh."
I moan as his lips find that sensitive spot right below my ear, his teeth nibbling at me and making my body melt.
"Angel, I'm about to take you somewhere quiet and make you say all kinds of things."
I gasp, my pulse spiking through me as the heat pools between my thighs.
“Dylan?”
He looks down at me, one brow cocked. “Angel?”
“Do you think we could…” I trail off, blushing, before I nod at the backpack.
“Think we could watch that?”
He grins hungrily, his eyes flashing into mine.
“I was thinking we could make a sequel.”
I tremble, every part of me aching for him. "That a promise?"
"Absolutely."
The End
Bonus Fan Story
Missing Rose and Dylan already? Yeah, me too ;). But don’t worry, we’re not done with them yet!
In addition to having them appear in the next two books in this series, I’ve also written a very special little short bonus story involving these two! This quicky will be available exclusively for my mailing list subscribers, after the release of Rough Stuff in the spring of 2018 (the wait is because there’s some major spoilers for the rest of the series in it, and I’d hate to ruin anything for you guys!).
To be sure you grab this hot, dirty, and sweet little story, you can make sure you’re on my list by signing up here:
madisonfayeromance.com/newsletter/
You can also catch a sneak peek of Pretty Dirty, book 2 in the Dirty Bad Things series, on the following pages.
Thanks for your support, and happy reading!
<3,
Madison
Paid For Three Times
Paid For Three Times
Three times the possession, three times the submission.
The night I was taken changed everything, and shattered who I thought I was.
Stolen away, they put me up on that stage, ready to be sold to whoever could pay.
And there are three who could. Three rich, powerful, dominant, gorgeous men – men with the means to pay for their darkest desires. Three possessive, dangerous men who want me on my knees, ready to submit.
They’ve locked me away in their mansion – at their mercy and at their bidding. They stir something dark in me – desires I’ve never admitted even to myself. And I know its’s wrong to think this way about the men who’ve bound me and made me their possession, but it can’t be controlled.
Maybe there’s something wrong with me – something broken. Maybe it’s always been like that, and maybe only they can fix it.
Submitting, and giving up total control to the three tempting, filthy, dominant men who paid for my obedience might be the key to my salvation.
But only if I dare.
Paid For Three Times is a dark, steamy read involving a mfmm menage romance with three completely 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 © 2017 Madison Faye
All rights reserved.
Cover: White Rabbit Creative
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.
Author’s Note:
Trigger Warning: While mild in nature, there are scenes in this book involving kidnapping and restraint that may be triggering to some readers (though engine-revving to others!). Like all my books though, a very sweet HEA is guaranteed, so I promise, if you stick with it, the ending is worth it!
Please know that this book is a MFMM romance, which is to say, it's all about her - no MM action.
Side effects may include: melted kindles and undergarments, flushed cheeks, an elevated pulse, and very dirty daydreams. Proceed with caution, and enjoy!
Prologue
Mia
“Be a good girl. Open your mouth.”
I did as I was told, feeling my pulse run hot in my veins as the shiver teased its way through my body.
I opened my mouth.
“Good girl,” he growled, much closer to my ear than he’d been before.
I gasped.
I might not’ve been able to see them with the blindfold on, but I knew they were there.
All three of them.
I could feel their presence in the room — could feel the power they exuded as they circled me like sharks.
Hungry. Focused. Ready to devour me.
I whimpered as I felt a thumb press against my bottom lip — whose, I wasn’t sure, but I trembled just the same. The thumb pressed into the softness, parting my mouth slightly before sliding between my eager, wet lips.
“Suck,” a voice growled in my ear, making me moan and strain against the silk ties binding my wrists behind my back.
The voice was behind me this time, though the thumb was from one of them standing in front of me. I could feel the heat from both of their bodies, radiating like fire against my all but naked body — naked but for the sheer, black lace stockings up to my thighs, the red-heeled black stilettos, and the collar.
And the blindfold, of course.
I moaned as I closed my lips around the thumb, sucking gently and swirling my tongue delicately over it.
I wanted to please him.
I wanted to please them.
Because through them, I’d found myself. Through them, I’d tapped into the darkness inside of me that I knew now had always existed just below the surface.
Waiting to be awoken.
I felt the man behind me growl as he moved against me. He’d unbuttoned that crisp Oxford shirt, and I melted against the powerful heat of his bare, muscled torso at my back. I sucked harder as I felt the thickness between his legs pressing into my bare ass — his hands skimming up my sides.
The man in front growled as I sucked his thumb, moving closer to me, just to the side. He too had lost his shirt, and I whimpered at the feel of bare, hard-bodied men pressing into my exposed skin from either side. One powerful hand slid up my body, teasing over my belly and my ribs before it cupped my breast firmly, rolling the nipple between a finger and a thumb.
My head swam. My pulse raced. My body ignited for them.
And then I felt the third man, and that’s when the cry broke from my lips.
His hands slid right over my hip, moving firmly down between my legs.
I was dripping wet for him.
I moaned loudly again, my lips clasping around the thumb again and sucking as I felt this third man’s fingers slide wetly over my clit. He teased me, letting his finger just brush over the eager nub as he moved to press against me.
I whimpered.
He’d lost his shirt and the rest of it, and I moaned as I felt the thick, pulsing heat of his cock hot against my thigh. The man behind me growled into my ear again as his hand dropped between us. I felt him tug at the buckle of his belt, and my body shivered as I heard his impeccably tailored suit-pants drop to the floor. He pressed against me again, and this time, I cried out as I felt his cock throbbing hard against the cleft of my ass.
The thumb pulled from my lips, and I whimpered with a soft pout.
The man in front of me chuckled darkly. “Oh, pet, I am far from done with this mouth.” I heard him removing his belt as well, his pants coming undone.
“On your knees,” the man behind me whispered heavily in my ear.
I shivered, the moan catching in my throat as my heart thumped widely and the desire teased between my legs.
I knelt for them. I did as I was told.
Of course I did. After all, I belonged to them. These hard, dominant, bad men owned me — officially. Bought and paid for.
But then, that’s not the only reason I did as they said. I did so, because I was a good girl.
I was their good girl.
I moaned as I felt them move closer around me, hands cupping my jaw, fingers tangling in my hair. A finger traced over my cheek.
And it didn’t matter that everything was caving in. It didn’t matter in that moment that far badder men than these three were after us with every intent of killing all four of us. It didn’t matter that we’d broken the rules. It didn’t matter that we’d moved far past whatever this had started as.
It didn’t matter that I wasn’t the same girl I’d been before.
Before them.
“Open your mouth, beautiful,” one of them whispered darkly.
My lips parted.
My heart pounded in my chest.
My pussy throbbed with need for them.
“Now be a good girl, and swallow the whole thing.”
1
Mia
I sighed heavily as I hit the “send” button — my thirty-fifth resume of the day going out into the ether.
I scowled as I clicked back to my inbox. No new emails. Of course. I hit refresh twice, just to make sure, but still nothing. Just the weekly “how’s being an adult” email from my mom, the same notice from my cell phone carrier that I was past due, and the same collections agency that now owned my student loans reminding me that I was their slave for life.
Good times.
I reached for the bottle of cheap white wine and poured a fresh splash into my glass — a coffee mug, actually. I wrinkled my nose as I took a swallow, the cheap taste of sugar overpowering anything really “wine”-tasting.
I hit refresh on my email again.
Nothing.
How was “being an adult” going? Well, I had no job and no social life, and no love life since Mike had decided to put his dick in half the female population of his office two months ago. I had a roof over my head — an apartment I shared with my best friend Andrea, but I was behind three months’ rent on my half. Forget about the utilities.
I had four maxed out credit cards, student debts that rivaled the worth of a third world country, and a completely useless degree in art history that pretty much guaranteed my unemployment.
In short, life was currently kicking me in the teeth.
I sighed, pushing my hair back from my face and pouting.
Outside my bedroom, the apartment unlocked with a click, slamming open against the coat rack. I swiveled to see Andrea maneuvering her way in with two armfuls of shopping bags.
My brow wrinkled.
This had been slowly going on for a month or so now. Andrea hadn’t quite gotten to the dire straits I was in, but it’s not like she was made of money either. But then that started to change.
It started with small things — her picking up the tab all too often at happy hour, or when ordering delivery. Then it was new clothes — frequent
ly. But then it moved to her covering my half of the rent when I was short — for months, and without any sort of pressure to pay her back.
I’d caught her getting ready to go out the other night with a brand-new Chanel clutch, Louboutin’s, and this insanely gorgeous new club dress. I’d almost said something, when she’d gotten a phone call, smiled at me, and strolled out.
And now here she was with shopping bags from just about every high-end designer in New York.
My inbox dinged, sending my heart into my throat as I whirled back.
My mouth pursed into a scowl.
Apparently, Sephora was having a sale I might be interested in.
That did it.
I slammed the laptop shut and stepped from my room.
“Need a hand?”
Andrea’s attention jerked up from trying to pull her new, heeled Burberry boots off, her arms still laden with the shopping bags.
“Oh! Uh, hi!” She smiled, and it wasn’t like she had anything to be guilty about with going on a shopping spree, but I could still see it there in her eyes.
I guess my tone didn’t help.
“I thought you were out?”
I shook my head. “Nope. The secretary job called; position filled.”
She made a face. “Sorry, hon.”
“It’s fine, I just— I mean…” I trailed off and looked at my feet. “Look, I know I owe you some serious money, and I really will pay you back. But if you need to get someone else in here who can actually afford this place, just let me—”
“Oh my God, stop,” Andrea rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at me. “It’s fine, really. I know you’ll pay me back when you can.” She grinned. “With thirty percent interest, of course.”
“Oh, right, of course.”
She smiled. “Honestly, who else out there do you think would put up with living with me?”
