A Daring Desire
The Dare Ménage Series, book 4
By Jeanne St. James
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance, Ménage, MMF, Interracial
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.
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.
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.
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?
“I’ve got a player—”
“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.”
“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?”
“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.
Gryff pursed his lips and leaned back in his leather office chair, staring up at the ceiling. “Who’s the judge?”
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?”
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.”
Trey crossed his arms over his chest. “Your brother says you’re the best.”
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.”
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.
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
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