Three Princes, one Beauty. Triple the fairytale, triple the scandal.
They’re rich, dominant, gorgeous and toe-curlingly undeniable. One’s my boss. Two are his friends. All three are real, honest-to-goodness royal princes.
…And they say they want to share me.
There’s a place they want to take me, and things there they want to show me. It’s called The Triple Crown Club - the filthy, dark, secret playground of the royal elite. A place from the darkest corners of fantasy.
I know it’s wrong, and forbidden, and if the world found out, the media scandal would destroy us all.
But with three filthy mouths, six powerful hands, and three big, huge, gorgeous…um, crowns?
Well, it’s getting harder to say no. In fact, it’s getting hard to say anything but “yes sirs.”
Cinderella never had this problem.
…Too bad for her.
*Please note that each of the Triple Crown Club books are completely standalone stories centered around one heroine, with no cliffhangers.
Royally Shared is a modern fairytale involving three utterly obsessed alpha heroes and enough insta-love, kindle-melting steam, and sugary-sweetness to make you swoon. This mfmm romance is all about her – no m/m. If you love over-the-top, slightly unrealistic, and wildly dirty stories, this one’s for you! HEA with NO CHEATING!
Copyright © 2017 Madison Faye
All rights reserved.
Editing: Sennah Tate
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.
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1
Julia
My pulse raced as I stared at the computer screen in front of me. My mouth felt dry and my eyes were wide open — my brain almost unwilling to process what I was reading.
“Hey, Earth to Jules?”
I barely heard Emma, my eyes re-reading the email over and over.
“Um, hello?”
I blinked, tearing my eyes away from the screen and staring at my roommate.
“Dude, are you—”
“I got it.”
She frowned for a second, like she was trying to decipher what the heck I was talking about, when suddenly, her whole face lit up.
“Holy shit! Are you kidding me?”
I shook my head, still almost numb from the shock.
I’d gotten it. “It” being the job of a lifetime, or at least, the job I needed so badly at this point in my life.
When my cousin Anya had first told me she’d hooked me up for an interview for the personal assistant position to none other than Prince Luke Snow, I’d laughed, thinking she was pulling my leg.
My first cousin worked as the personal head of royal affairs for Princess Adele White, of Lorne. In the olden days, the job would have been called the “head lady in waiting,” but then, this was the modern world. It was a seriously amazing job — an enormous paycheck, residences in the royal palace, and basically all the perks of being a princess herself without all the crap a real princess has to deal with. Oh, and if that wasn’t cushy enough, she and Adele also happened to be best friends.
Talk about a dream job, right?
But Anya hadn’t been kidding at all about the interview. She really had used her connections in the world of the royal elites to get me a sit-down interview to replace Prince Luke’s former PA. Not with him, of course, but I’d gone in for three fairly grueling interviews that almost felt like court-trial cross examinations.
The thoroughness I got though. Luke Snow was an actual, honest-to-goodness prince after all.
He was also young, wealthy beyond belief, and criminally gorgeous.
…Not that I was thinking about that during the entire interview process or anything.
However, four weeks later with no word, I’d basically assumed I hadn’t gotten the position. That is, until I’d randomly checked my email, and almost forgotten how to breathe.
I’d gotten it.
Me.
I was going to be the very full-time, very hands-on, very in-over-her-head personal assistant to one of the sexiest, richest men on the planet.
I couldn’t tell if I was about to jump up and down for sheer joy or have a full-blown panic attack.
Emma chose option A — shrieking and jumping up and down as she threw her arms around me excitedly.
“Oh my GOD, you’re serious?”
I nodded, my head still whirling from trying to process this.
“Well, we’re celebrating tonight, obviously.”
I snapped out of my daze, and grinned at my roommate. I pushed aside the fear of how the hell I was going to jump into the deep end with this job and decided to focus on the immediate: I had a kick ass new job, and even if my new boss was known for being a little cold, stern, and anti-social, he was also absolutely gorgeous.
On top of that, he was going to be paying me a small fortune to work for him.
Yeah, the fear and uncertainty I could deal with later. For now, Emma was right; we were definitely celebrating.
“Yes!” I beamed at her excitedly. “Wok N’ Eggroll delivery and a Gilmore Girls marathon?”
Emma cringed. “Uh, no. I was thinking we might try not being totally lame.”
“Hey!” I poked her in the arm. “We like doing that!”
“Well, yeah, no kidding, but c’mon, Jules,” She made a face. “We are a little lame sometimes.”
She was right, I just hated to admit it. We’d moved in together six months before, after I’d broken up with Dan. And since she’d broken up with Bryan, our place has been a spinster’s paradise. Hanging in with wine, takeout food, and a good movie was kind of our thing, and we loved doing it, but she was right.
If we kept this up, all we’d need would be a dozen or so cats and a lottery addiction and we’d be the crazy single-ladies from a bad movie.
Emma was right; we needed to go out to celebrate tonight.
“Dinner?” I shrugged. “We could go out to that new Spanish Tapas place on—”
“Jules, no.” Emma rolled her eyes. “Think bigger. Thing wilder.”
I arched a brow. “Wilder, huh? Clubbing?”
She laughed. “I don’t think anyone says ’clubbing’ anymore. But yeah, let’s go out out. In fact…” she trailed off.
“What?”
She grinned mischievously.
“I may already have a spot for us?”
“Oh really?”
“Oh,” she bit her lip. “Really. And I promise, you’re going to love it. Just, you know, dress up a little.”
“How dressed up are we talking?”
“The kind of dressed
up where you’re not dressing in much.”
I grinned, blushing and looking away. “I don’t know…” I trailed off and shrugged. “I don’t think I’m—”
“Jules,” my friend crossed the room to me and out her hands on my shoulders. “We need to get back out there. Both of us.”
Emma had an annoying way of being right a lot. Since she’d walked in on Bryan with her step-sister (I mean, how trashy is that?), Emma had gone out on all of one date with one guy, which she’d left early because he was creeping her out. I was worse. I’d been on zero dates since Dan.
On top of that, neither of us were the “one-night” types. A few months back, we both downloaded Tinder just to see what it was about, but after the deluge of dick pics and “hey BB” messages, we’d deleted it from our phones.
I didn’t know what I was looking for post-Dan, but it sure wasn’t that. Just the same, going out out did seem fun. Hey, if nothing else, we could dress up, dance, and have a great time. I doubted either of us was going to find true love wherever she was planning on going where I needed to “dress up by not dressing in much,” but that was fine.
I was going to celebrate my awesome new job tonight with my best friend, and that was good enough for me.
I sighed.
“Okay, okay, I relent.”
Emma cheered.
“So, where are we going?”
Her grin turned downright wicked.
“Emma?”
“Look, don’t worry.” She waved me off, turning to check something on her phone.
“Where exactly are you taking us?”
“It’s a new spot.” She turned back, sighing and rolling her eyes. “Oh my God, Jules, you’re going to have a blast, I promise. Just go get ready and I’ll open some pre-evening wine.”
“You’re a nut,” I muttered as I turned to go poke through my closet.
“Oh, and Jules?”
I glanced back at my roommate.
“Whatever you wear, just make sure it goes with black.”
I frowned. “What? Why?”
Emma bit her lip, looking at me with a mixture of fear and excitement in her eyes.
“Because that’s what color the masks are.”
I stared at her.
“What? Emma, what masks?”
“The ones we’re wearing tonight at Masquerade Night.”
2
Julia
I shivered, slightly uncomfortable by the way the doorman’s eyes lingered on my body as he glanced us over. I was wearing a short — scandalously short, if we’re being honest — black cocktail dress and four-inch heels, my hair down and my favorite shade of pinkish red on my lips.
I felt nervous, but also way excited to be out in public dressed like this. I mean, elegant and yet borderline slutty clubwear wasn’t exactly my normal go-to wardrobe. It wasn’t for Emma either, actually, but I had to say, she looked fantastic. Her dress was a similar style to mine, fitted, cut low, and short, though her emerald green one brought out the fire in her red hair and the soft pale glow of her skin.
The bouncer looked us over again, definitely taking our clothes off with his creepy eyes before he finally nodded and smirked.
“That’s fifty bucks each, ladies.”
I blanched.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously,” he grinned. “You wanna pay some other way though, we can definitely talk.”
I swallowed the sour taste in my mouth as I opened my clutch. “Yeah, cash is fine, thanks.”
“Creep,” Emma muttered as we stepped into the small entrance room. A thumping pulsing rhythm of sexy dance music came from the other side of the door, inside the club.
“Ladies?”
A dark-haired girl with sleeve tattoos smiled at us as she handed us two blacks masks. I shivered again, this time in a sort of nervous excitement as I took it from her and ran my hand over it.
“So, we have to keep these on the whole time we’re here?”
She gave me a funny look. “Uh, no?” She shrugged. “You can take them off whenever, it’s just a theme night.”
The casual way she shrugged off the question took a little of the “sexy-dangerous” mystery out of the place, but I pushed that out of mind.
I was going to enjoy tonight. And I was definitely going to keep this mask on, if only because it pushed me a little outside my comfort zone, and maybe that’s exactly what I needed right then.
I blinked behind the mask as I straightened it on my face, turning to see that Emma had hers on as well. I grinned.
“Ready for this?”
She nodded eagerly. “Definitely.”
I started to turn for the main door, when she grabbed my arm.
“I think we should get wild tonight.”
I grinned. “Wild, huh?”
“I’m being serious! We never do stuff like this, and I think we both need a night of just cutting loose, getting wild, and pretending our actions don’t have consequences.”
I laughed deeply. “Wow! Watch out world, Emma Vale is out for blood tonight!”
She rolled her eyes behind her mask. “No, c’mon you know what I mean. Let’s have one drink more than we should, dance until our feet are killing us, and kiss some hot boys.” She grinned wickedly. “And maybe we can see what happens after kissing.”
I grinned back, the excitement from earlier spiking through me. I doubted either of us were really going to get that nuts tonight, but it was the mindset that counted, and that, we had in spades.
“Let’s do this,” I said eagerly as I turned and yanked the door open.
Thundering bass music washed over us, the room absolutely packed with people dancing, sweating, grinding, drinking, kissing, and panting to the music.
“No regrets, right?” I glanced quickly at Emma, seeing her nod.
“No regrets.”
We stepped into the swirling, grinding crowd as the doors shut behind us.
I was halfway through my cocktail, half-heartedly swaying to the music by the bar while Emma told me some juicy gossip about work when I saw him.
The fire in those dark eyes across the club as they burned into me told me he’d seen me long before I saw him though.
Whoa.
The man was absolutely gorgeous, in that surreal, perfect, magazine-model way. His blond hair was cropped short, his high cheekbones and strong jaw chiseled out of iron, and the confident, cocky smirk on his face did very interesting things to my pulse. He wore a mask, like me, but I could still see the glint of something wicked in his eyes behind it.
“Holy crap,” Emma muttered next to me, leaning in as she sipped her drink through her straw.
“Okay, that is exactly what we need.”
I laughed. “We, huh?”
“Fine, you. He’s pulling your panties off with his eyes right now anyways.”
I blushed as I rolled my eyes at her.
“He is not.”
“He’s literally having sex with you, right now, from across the whole club.”
I laughed, as if brushing her off, but when I turned back to him, the laugh caught in my throat. My pulse skipped, and a hot flush creeped over my body.
Emma was right — he was tearing my clothes off with his eyes as he smirked that cool, cocky grin at me. I swallowed, quickly taking a big sip of my cocktail and then choking on it slightly as the man started to stalk across the dance floor towards me.
His eyes never left mine.
“I think I should go use the bathroom,” Emma said quickly, turning to leave.
“Wait, don’t you dare leave me!”
“Have fuuuuun,” she giggled in a sing-song voice. “Get wild!”
She ducked away from my poking finger and pushed her way through the bar crowd.
“Oh you get wild,” I muttered at her disappearing back.
“Maybe I will.”
I gasped at the sound of the deep, velvety baritone voice in my ear. I whirled, and my heart jumped into my throat as I
looked up into the gorgeous, captivating, panty-melting face of my dark stranger.
“Get wild, that is.” He grinned, a brow cocking behind his mask as I looked up into his face. “I might need some help though.”
I felt the heat creep into my face as he stepped closer to me, those eyes still locked on me.
He wore grey, expensive looking slacks and a crisp, white, tailored shirt that stretched across his broad muscled shoulders — tucked in, unbuttoned at the neck, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows of his muscled arms.
“Oh, that—” I bit my lip, falling into those eyes. “That’s just my friend. It’s this joke we have.”
He shrugged casually, that grin of his still making me warm all over.
“Well, joke or not, you strike me as a girl who could get a little wild.”
I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Trust me, you have no idea how wrong you are.”
“Well, I mean you dressed up, you look fucking fantastic—”
I blushed as he continued.
“You came out to a Masquerade night, and you’re drinking a martini.” He winked at me. “My kind of girl, actually.”
“Oh, trust me, this is not me.”
“Well, it suits you.”
I grinned.
“I’m starting this crazy new job tomorrow and…” I trailed off. “I’m just out celebrating I guess.”
“Well let’s celebrate then.”
I shivered as he moved closer, my back against the bar with this gorgeous, perfect man towering over me — his smokey eyes and his panty-melting grin sending a buzz through my body.
“I’m Matthew.”
“Julia.”
“Dance with me, Julia.”
It wasn’t a question, it was a request. His hand took mine and he pulled me — heart racing and body tingling — after him into the mass of grinding dancing people.
I gasped as he pulled me into him and let our bodies come together. Thudding music pulled us into the deep sway of the bass, and my whole body melted against his — shivering — as we started to dance.