Bossed Three Times: A Dark MFMM Romance read online Madison Faye

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)

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Bossed Three Times: A Dark MFMM Romance

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Madison Faye

Book Information:

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!
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Madison Faye Books

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.


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—”


My voice was ice cutting through his words.

“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.