Only You (A MFM Ménage Romance) Read online

  Only You

  A MFM Ménage Romance

  Vivian Ward

  Derek Masters

  Always Booked Publishing

  Copyright © 2017 by Vivian Ward & Derek Masters

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Vivian Ward Newsletter

  Derek’s Dark Desires

  A Poem From Vivian

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  A Note From Vivian About “Only You”

  Derek’s Dark Desires

  Vivian Ward Newsletter

  About the Author

  Also by Vivian Ward

  One Wild Night

  Vivian Ward Newsletter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Vivian Ward Newsletter

  About the Author

  Also by Vivian Ward

  Dare Me

  Vivian Ward Newsletter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Vivian Ward Newsletter

  About the Author

  Also by Vivian Ward

  Our Dirty Secret

  Vivian Ward Newsletter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Also by Vivian Ward

  Vivian Ward Newsletter

  About the Author

  Share Me

  Derek’s Dark Desires

  1. Kayla

  2. Dillon

  3. Kayla

  4. Dillon

  5. Kayla

  6. Dillon

  7. Kayla

  8. Dillon

  9. Kayla

  10. Dillon

  11. Kayla

  12. Dillon

  13. Kayla

  14. Dillon

  15. Kayla

  16. Dillon

  17. Kayla

  18. Dillon

  19. Kayla

  20. Dillon

  21. Kayla

  22. Dillon

  23. Kayla

  24. Kayla

  25. Dillon

  26. Dillon

  27. Kayla

  Derek’s Dark Desires

  About the Author

  Also by Vivian Ward

  Vivian Ward Newsletter

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  newsletter.authorvivianward.com

  Derek’s Dark Desires

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  For the hopeless romantics, may this book show you true love at it’s strongest.

  A Poem From Vivian

  Your warm whisper in my ear

  makes my heart grow near.

  I love the way you touch my skin,

  it's hot as fucking sin.

  Please don't stop,

  I love the way you make my pussy sop.

  Hold me close and never let go,

  I promise my love for you will always flow.

  You're the best man on Earth.

  From ashes to ashes and dust to dust,

  I will love you; I must.

  Chapter One

  Penny

  Enrolling myself into nursing school is the best thing that I’ve done for myself since I dumped Owen’s ass. I only wish that I would’ve done it sooner.

  Sometimes I think about how stupid I was during our three-year relationship no matter how hard I try not to. To this day, I still can’t say exactly what made me stay with him for so long.

  Sure, he was good-looking, educated, and polite, but he was also very dull and selfish. Maybe his intelligence is what attracted me to him the most, but I should’ve known better than to put a man before myself.

  I think a lot of younger women do that: put their boyfriend before themselves, and I was no different, but I should’ve seen the writing on the wall when I put my future on hold for the sake of his.

  He didn’t have a problem with me quitting school so that only one of us had to work a full-time job—as long as that person was me. Like a lost little lamb who thought she was in love, I quickly obliged because I was head over heels.

  My friends and family all told me that he should’ve been the one working full-time to support us to allow me to go to school, but I naively brushed off their advice and wore a stupid grin plastered on my face all in the name of love.

  For three long, tedious, mind-numbing years, I put up with the relationship that we had—if that’s what you want to call it, but those days are gone. I already wasted my early 20’s, and now that my mid-twenties are approaching, I’ve thrown out the old Penny and brought in the new.

  My first week of school was overwhelming, yet amazing at the same time. It was so nice to sit in class, take notes, learn new things, and meet new people, but now that the weekend is here, I’m ready to unlo
ad.

  “Hello?” my friend, Sabrina, answers.

  “Hey, girl! What are you doing tonight?” I ask her.

  “Ugh. I promised to help my sister make centerpieces for all of the tables at her wedding. She’s got the whole weekend planned out for us. I’m sure it’ll be fun,” she says sarcastically.

  “Why don’t you get out of it and tell her you’ve got other plans?”

  “What other plans? You know me, I never go out,” she says.

  “You could come out with me, have a few drinks, and have some fun!”

  “I wish I could, but I can’t. She’ll kill me if I don’t show up. She’s turned into Bridezilla.” I can hear her punching the buttons on the microwave. “If I thought she was bitchy before, this wedding has brought out a whole new level of bitchiness.”

  Sabrina’s sister has always been a bitch, which is why the two of them don’t get along. I remember when we were teenagers in high school, she used to barge into Sabrina’s room any chance she could so that she could butt her nose into our business. Of course, she’d always take any information that she had back to their mom and get us in trouble, so none of us liked her.

  “Are you sure you can’t get out of it? I’m dying to go out.”

  “Sorry, Penny, I would if I could, but I can’t. Why don’t you call Abby and see if she can go with you? She’s usually good for a night out.”

  “Yeah, I think I might do that. Try not to shove any flowers up your sister’s ass,” I tease her.

  “No promises,” the microwave beeps. “Listen, my food’s ready, so I’m going to go. Good luck,” she says.

  “Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”

  The whole reason why I called her first is because she’s more fun to go out with than Abby. Abby’s a party girl, for sure, but she also gets fall-down-drunk and usually requires a babysitter all night, which totally kills the mood.

  Staring at my phone, I debate whether or not I should give her a call. I don’t know what to do because part of me wants someone to go out with, but the other part of me doesn’t want to deal with her drunkenness. Before I can make a decision, my phone starts ringing, and it’s her.

  “Hey Abster,” I pick up the phone.

  “What’s up? Sabrina said you wanted to go out tonight?”

  Geez, does she have to blab everything?

  “Yeah, I was thinking about going to The Impulse tonight. Are you free?”

  I regret the words the instant they leave my lips, but I don’t want to be rude. Abby, Sabrina and I have been best friends since our sophomore year of high school. Besides, maybe she won’t drink much tonight, or perhaps she will. I know she will, she always does, and she gets in so much trouble when she does, too.

  “Not tonight. Sabrina said you wanted to go out, but I have to clean tonight because my parents are coming in the morning. My dad’s going to measure my floors to replace them with hardwood, and then he’s going to fix my bedroom ceiling fan. We can go tomorrow, though, if you want,” she offers.

  As much as I’d love to have some company, I really don’t want to wait another night, and I don’t want to have to babysit her solo.

  “Tomorrow night’s not good for me,” I lie. “I have a lot of homework to do from my classes, and I figured I could use a break before I really dig in, but thanks for the offer.”

  “All right,” she says. “But if you change your mind, let me know. Okay?”

  “Will do,” I reply.

  “I better go. My place is completely trashed, and if I want to get up early enough to let them in tomorrow, I’m going to have to get to bed at a decent time.”

  “Good night, Abby,” I say, hitting the end button.

  After a quick shower, I blow dry my hair and find the tightest pair of jeans I own. Owen always hated when I wore tight clothes, which makes me wiggle my ass into them that much faster. Retrieving a low-cut blouse from the closet, I pull it over my head before slipping into a pair of black pumps.

  Standing before my bathroom vanity, I put on my gold hoop earrings and begin to perfectly paint my face for the evening. Pulling back my blonde, wavy hair, I apply foundation to even out my skin tone before applying a few shades of eyeshadow. To complete my look, I tightly line my eyes with black eyeliner, brush on a couple of layers of mascara, and, finally, coat my lips in shiny red lipstick.

  Owen hated when I wore dark makeup, which makes me smile that much more.

  “Good,” I say to myself before turning off the light.

  Grabbing my purse and keys off the counter, I head out for a night of adventure—at least, I hope. How depressing would it be if I ended up going to the bar alone and sitting by myself the whole time?

  I quickly dismiss that thought as soon as I walk out of my apartment complex when a group of guys hanging around the front entrance whistles at me as I walk past them. With my chin tilted high, I smile as I slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine.

  Tonight will be fun.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I say, backing out of my space.

  Chapter Two

  Mason

  “Why don’t you rack ‘em while I grab us a couple of beers?” Lucas says to me.

  “Yep, and don’t forget, it’s my quarter, so I go first.”

  He mocks me, mumbling under his breath, “It’s my quarter, so I go first,” as he walks away, bobbing his head from side to side.

  I rack the balls on the green felt that’s worn down to almost nothing. Everything about this table is original, which is why it’s one of the few that are still only a quarter. It has to be at least 25 years old, but it serves its purpose.

  “Here,” he sets down a tall glass filled with foamy amber-colored liquid.

  Taking a swig, I let the ice cold beer quench my thirst before I set it on the ledge behind the pool table so I can break. I sink the orange five and call solids.

  “Come on, Mason,” he says after I sink two more balls. “Scratch and give me a turn.”

  “You don’t like it when I run the table?” I laugh at him.

  “No, I don’t like it when you take my money,” he counters.

  My winning streak is up when I accidentally sink the eight-ball. “Fuck! You win,” I say, knocking back the rest of my beer. “I’ll go buy the next round while you rack and break.”

  “That’s more like it,” he says.

  Flipping him off, I walk over to the bar to buy us another round of beers. The barkeep is cute, but she’s not really our type.

  Yes, I said our type. Lucas and I share everything.

  Everything.

  From cars, jobs, friends, and women, we share everything. The only thing we don’t share is a bank account.

  “Another round of beers for my buddy and me, please?” I summon the bartender by holding a $20 bill up in the air.

  She pours two drafts beers, and I tell her to keep the change before taking them back to the pool table. Lucas breaks but doesn’t sink any balls.

  “You’re up,” he says, taking a drink from his cup. “You know, there’s something that makes a beer taste better when someone else buys it.”

  Rolling my eyes at him, I lean over the pool table to take my shot, and in walks the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. Her legs practically go clear up to her neck in her black jeans that look like they’re painted onto her round, bubbly ass. She’s wearing a low-cut blouse that lays perfectly over her breasts, showing just enough cleavage to leave a little—very little—to the imagination.

  Lucas and I look at each other, and we’re clearly thinking the same thing. He grins at me and nods toward the same woman.

  “Now, that’s hot,” he says.

  “Yeah, she is.” I can’t take my eyes off of her, she’s absolutely gorgeous. “You ever seen her before?”

  We come to The Impulse pretty regularly when we’re in town, which is often since my family lives here and we do a lot of construction work in the area.

  “Nope,” he steps next to me
. “Can’t say that I have, but now that I’ve laid eyes on her, I’d like to see a lot more of her,” he says.