A Daring Desire
The Dare Ménage Series, book 4
By Jeanne St. James
Genre: Contemporary Erotic
Romance, Ménage, MMF, Interracial
Blurb:
Take two defense attorneys, add one troubled
NFL QB who needs them, and what do you get? A threesome of hot, sexy conflict.
Gryff Ward made a
serious mistake when he hired the hot-as-hell defense attorney Rayne Jordan as
an associate in his high-profile legal firm, even though she’s one of the best.
Now he’s struggling to keep it professional, especially when she insists on
calling him “Boss.”
Rayne’s been
attracted to the firm's top attorney ever since her interview. And she’s well
aware that calling the conservative man “Boss” drives him crazy…in a very good
way.
Add Trey Holloway,
their newest client, a troubled NFL quarterback, into the mix. Tension arises
when it’s clear that both Gryff and Trey want Rayne and Gryff is willing to
fight for her. However, Trey doesn’t hide the fact that he wants Gryff too.
Now Gryff’s having
a hard time fighting not only his attraction to Rayne but to another man. Even
though he stubbornly refuses to admit his deepest, darkest desires.
Then Rayne takes
control. She’s determined to have them both in not only her bed but her life,
and she won’t give up until she does.
Note: This book in the series can be read as
standalone. It includes an HEA ending. It is intended for audiences over 18
years of age since it includes explicit sexual scenes between all three
characters.
Chapter One
Gryffin Ward’s
dick was so hard he winced.
The newest
associate at his law firm stood on the other side of his desk talking. Actually
talking to him.
He had no clue
what she was even saying.
As he watched her
lips move, he regretted hiring her. Even though she came highly recommended.
Rayne’s stats were
so good he would’ve been a fool not to. The more cases his practice won, the
more clients they attracted. The more clients they drew, the larger his firm
grew. Which meant—
Oh fuck. Who cared what it meant. Right
now, he desperately needed to adjust himself because his erection was caught in
his pants in a painful position.
“So, what do you
think, Boss?”
Holy fuck with
that “Boss” shit again.
She needed to
start dressing like a nun and stop calling him that. Otherwise, he would have
permanent blue balls.
What did he think?
He didn’t. All the blood in his brain had rushed to his dick, so he had no
valid thoughts.
“You don’t have to
call me Boss. In fact, please don’t.”
“I know I don’t.”
With a smile, Rayne leaned over and tapped him under the chin before spinning
on the heel of her fuck-me pumps and heading toward the door. “But, I like it,”
she threw over her shoulder.
Me, too.
He took one last
glance at her tight skirt with the slit in the back, the one that hugged her
luscious ass and those stockings she wore with the line up the back of her
legs, before she disappeared, leaving his office door open.
Gryff closed his
eyes and blew out a breath.
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
No wonder she won
most of her cases. The judge and the ADA’s brains were probably mush after
watching her pace the courtroom cross-examining witnesses on the stand.
No matter what,
she was highly respected for being a great defense attorney.
But, he should
fire her. He didn’t dip his pen in the company ink and he wasn’t going to start
now. Even though she sorely tempted him.
He was a wretch.
That’s what he was.
He blew out
another ragged breath and scrubbed his hands over his face.
“Gryff,” came a
female voice from the door.
He separated his
fingers enough to peer through them at his secretary, Dani. “Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
Fuck no, he wasn’t
okay. He was completely jacked. “Yeah.” He sighed and lowered his hands to his
lap to cover the evidence, just in case she came closer.
“Okay, well, your
brother is on line one.”
If that didn’t
make his dick soften, then nothing would. “Thanks. Close the door, please.”
She gave him a
little smile and did as she was told. Now, there was a woman he could work with
and not lose his mind. But then, Dani dressed conservatively, like she actually
worked in an office for a high-profile law firm. Unlike Rayne.
With a quick
adjustment to his deflating manhood, he picked up the handset and jabbed the
button for line one. “What’s up, big brother?”
“Hey, what’s up
with you?” his older brother, Grae, returned.
If his brother
only knew what had just been up.
Ever since Grae
hooked up with his lovers, Paige and Connor, the man had definitely lost some
of his stick-up-his-ass disposition and now sounded more relaxed. His proper
English had relaxed a little bit, too. But then, Paige had a filthy mouth and
cursed like a sailor, so it didn’t surprise him that some of that rubbed off on
Grae. It was about time his brother loosened up.
“I need a favor,”
Grae continued.
Damn. Grae never asked for anything. His
squared-away older brother couldn’t possibly be having any legal problems,
could he?
“Shoot.”
“I’ve got a player—”
Ah, fuck.
“That needs
representation.”
Another bad boy
football player getting into a jam. Nothing new. However, Grae coming to him
for help was.
“And you’re the
best.”
Gryff frowned.
“Are you trying to butter me up?”
“Yes. He needs
your help. He’s a great player and our team needs him, but he’s been suspended
until this little legal snag is
cleared up.”
“How little?”
“Minuscule.”
“Bullshit.”
“The judge wants
to make an example out of him since he doesn’t like professional athletes
getting away with stuff like this.”
Stuff like this. The words domestic and
assault ping-ponged through Gryff’s head. “Did he smack around his wife or
girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Stop beating
around the bush, Grae. This isn’t like you.”
A pause came from
the other end of the line.
“What’s the
charge?” Gryff prodded.
“Aggravated
assault.”
Gryff pursed his
lips and leaned back in his leather office chair, staring up at the ceiling.
“Who’s the judge?”
“Thompkins.”
Gryff sat up with
a snap. Shit. He didn’t want to hear
the name of that hard-ass and he was pretty certain he didn’t want to know the
answer to the next question. “Who is it?”
“Trey Holloway.”
Gryff closed his
eyes and cursed silently. “No.”
Trey Holloway had
been in the news one too many times in the past few years. The guy seemed to be
spinning out of control and it didn’t surprise Gryff that he’d been charged
with agg assault.
“It was
self-defense.”
“Sure it was.”
Gryff ground the heel of his palm into his right eye. He had the start of a
blistering headache.
“I believe him,”
Grae said softly. “Look, I know the guy has some issues. He’s a wild child, but
he’s good on the field. He’s got potential to take us to the Super Bowl this
upcoming season. I don’t want to see him throw it away.”
“Are you doing
this for the team? Or for him?”
Another
hesitation, then, “Both. One can help the other.”
Maybe. But, a
troublemaker on the team had the potential to make it implode, too. If anyone
knew that, Grae should. And Gryff was sure he did know it. Why was Grae putting
his neck on the line for this guy? Why was this guy different than any other
player who got arrested for doing something stupid?
“Talk to me,”
Gryff said.
“He was at a
bar—"
Yeah. That’s how
all the good stories began.
“And he came onto
a guy—”
“He’s gay?” Well,
Gryff never expected that.
Grae ignored his
question and continued, “They were outside behind the bar making out—”
Making out. Like teenagers?
“And the guy’s
friends caught them. When that happened, the guy accused Trey of forcing
himself on him, since the guy wasn’t out. The guy acts indignant and punches
Trey to make the cover story look good. The guy’s friends jump in, thumping on
Trey, outnumbering him. But, Trey fights back and ends up taking all four guys
down, injuring a couple of them pretty badly.”
“Damn,” Gryff
whispered, picturing the whole thing in his head as his brother explained it.
“Right. But, it’s
Trey’s word against the other four. No one else in the bar witnessed it and if
they did, they haven’t come forward. Trey claims it was self-defense and I
believe him. No one in their right mind takes on four guys for the hell of it.”
Unless they’re
drunk. “Was he the only one arrested?”
“He was the only
one left standing in the end.”
“Damn,” Gryff
whispered, again. “From what I’ve heard about him, you’d think Holloway would
have a lawyer on retainer.”
“He does. But this
is life or death right now. Like I said, there’s no one better than you.”
“Life or death?”
“Of his career,”
Grae clarified.
Gryff spun his
chair around to stare out of the window behind him. “Well, if that isn’t some
pressure...”
“You can handle
it.”
“I need some time
to think about it.”
“There’s no time.”
“Why? When is
the—”
A throat cleared
behind him. He looked over his shoulder and stared right into Trey Holloway’s
sky blue eyes. The guy gave him a wink and a cocky smile.
Get the fuck out of here.
“Grae,” Gryff said
in a menacing tone.
His brother
chuckled. “I was going to warn you.”
“Not fast enough.”
“Yes, well—” and
then the phone went dead.
Son of a bitch. He was going to kill his
brother.
Gryff slowly
turned his chair back around and carefully hung up the phone when he really
wanted to smash it fifty times into the cradle until it exploded. But, he was
civilized. He couldn’t lose his shit in front of a client.
Even if it was Trey Holloway.
Gryff clearly
needed to have a talk with Dani about letting clients just walk into his office
without being announced or even invited in.
He studied the man
standing in the middle of his office. His blue eyes looked lighter due to his
dark tan. His dirty blond hair, streaked with highlights, whether fake or real,
almost reached his shoulders. Scruff covered his jaw. The man was definitely
built like a quarterback and not a linebacker. He wore a white button down
shirt that emphasized his coloring, with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows
and tucked into well-fitting jeans. Well-worn pointed cowboy boots covered feet
that could move him downfield quickly when necessary.
“Like what you
see?”
Gryff leveled his
gaze at him. “I don’t do men.”
“Do they do you?”
Gryff pursed his
lips and wondered if he should administer Trey’s next ass whipping. Though,
like the last time, it probably wouldn’t do any good. He shook his head. “I
don’t swing that way.”
“Never say never.
Your brother does. Maybe it’s in the genes.”
Gryff’s fingers
clenched the arms of his office chair. So much for polite introductions. “You
fuck a lot of men, Holloway?”
Trey quickly hid
his surprise at the unexpected question. It was there one second and then gone
the next, covered by the wide smile he plastered across his face. “You mean
over my lifetime or in one night?”
Trey was trying to
shock him, get a rise out of him. Two could play at that game.
“How many men have
you had in one night?”
Trey lifted his
hands up and spread his fingers. “I don’t have enough fingers to count.”
“If needed, you
can use your toes, too.”
The corners of
Trey’s lips twitched. “You’ve got a better sense of humor than your brother.”
“You don’t hear me
laughing.”
Then they flat
lined. Trey studied Gryff for a moment then gave a sharp nod. “We got off on
the wrong foot.” He shoved his hand out. “Trey Holloway.”
Gryff didn’t take
the offered hand nor did he even bother to glance at it. “I know who you are.
Sit down.”
Trey cocked an
eyebrow but parked his ass in one of the seats meant for real clients. Not an
irresponsible jackass like the one in front of him.
He propped his
feet on Gryff’s desk. What. The. Fuck.
“Get your filthy
boots off my desk. Put your feet on the floor, sit up straight, and act like
you have some sense.”
Trey’s feet
dropped to the floor and he scooted back in the chair with sudden color in his
cheeks. He cleared his throat. “Thanks for taking my case.”
Now, it was
Gryff’s turn to cock a brow. “I didn’t say yes, yet.”
“I’ve been falsely
accused.”
“That’s what the
guilty always say.”
“Hey, I was the
victim.”
“Sure.”
Trey crossed his
arms over his chest. “Your brother says you’re the best.”
“I am.”
Trey hooked an
ankle over his knee and smiled. “What’s it going to take?”
“You keeping your
ass clean and a five hundred-thousand-dollar retainer.”
Trey’s eyes
widened and he whistled softly.
Ah, see? Two could play the shock and awe
game. “If you fuck up, you lose the retainer.”
“So, it’s
insurance.”
“You catch on
quickly.”
Trey shook his
head. “Just ‘cause I play football doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”
“We’ll see about
that.”
“Hey, Boss,” Rayne
burst in through the open doorway staring at a file as she walked, then stopped
dead when she glanced up and spotted Trey. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize you
were with anyone.” Gryff didn’t miss her green eyes widen when she recognized
who sat in his office. “Oh.”
Yeah, oh.
Gryff’s eyes
narrowed as he watched her fingers brush over her hair, as if fixing it. There
was nothing to fix, her long dark blonde hair always seems to have a ‘just
woke’ look that fit her personality.
“You’re Trey
Holloway,” she breathed.
Gryff frowned at
the sudden color in her cheeks and the hungry look in her eyes.
Trey pushed
himself to his feet and offered her his hand. Well, the guy may have some
manners yet. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Ma’am? Oh
please.” She almost giggled. Giggled.
The corners of her lips curved as she curled her fingers around his.
Gryff’s gaze glued
to their hands. Hands that weren’t shaking in greeting, just holding. Did his
finger tickle her palm? Trey gave her a suggestive smile and raised her hand to
his mouth, kissing her knuckles. “And you are?”
That seemed to
jump start Rayne. “Oh, uh... Rayne. Rayne Jordan.”
“Nice to meet you,
Ms. Jordan.”
“Uh, just Rayne.”
Holy shit, she just batted her eyelashes at him.
Gryff coughed
loudly and both their heads spun toward him. “Holloway, take a seat. Rayne,
what do you need?”
“Oh, it can wait,
Boss.”
She didn’t move to
leave. Oh, hell no. Instead, she moved to stand almost directly in front of
Trey’s chair and parked her ass on the edge of Gryff’s desk. Just like that.
“Are you a new
client?” Rayne asked Trey. Was she panting?
“Yes,” he said,
giving her a blinding smile.
Trey was the kind
of guy who thought his looks and charm would get him through life. He needed a
rude awakening. You’d think after getting arrested—and not for the first
time—with a felony assault, a good ass kicking and then being suspended from
the team, would have done it. Apparently not.
“We don’t know
yet,” Gryff corrected. “We’re still talking terms.”
Without breaking
eye contact with Rayne, Trey said, “There’s nothing to talk about. I’ll meet
the terms.”
A muscle in
Gryff’s jaw jumped. And jumped again. He was going to kill his brother.
Get it on Amazon for $2.99 for a limited
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About the author:
JEANNE
ST. JAMES is a best-selling erotic romance author who loves an Alpha male (or
two). She was only thirteen when she started writing since it gave her an
escape from teenage angst! Her first paid published piece was an erotic story
in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published
in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M,
and M/M/F ménages. Want to read a sample of her work? Download a sampler book
here: BookHip.com/MTQQKK
To
keep up with her busy release schedule check her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup
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