Double Stuffed_An MFM Menage Romance Read online




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Description

  Dedication

  More From The Authors

  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

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Thank You For Reading

  Caught On Tape

  Painting Her

  Taste

  Double Dealing

  Double Feature

  Double Stuffed

  MFM Ménage Romance

  By Daphne Dawn & Natalie Knight

  Copyright 2017 by Triumvirate Press

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental. This work is intended for adults only.

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  Daphne Dawn

  Natalie Knight

  Description

  She likes her pastries stuffed with cream.

  Well, together we’re giving her a stuffing she won’t ever forget.

  Leila owns a bakery.

  She’s got a hit creation she discovered.

  People are lining up for blocks to try it.

  We want it. And her.

  She’s everything we’re not.

  Kind. Sweet. Gentle.

  Not like us. Bad boy billionaire brothers that paint the town red every night.

  Our money gives us power.

  Our bodies give us women.

  And we’re going to pull every trick in the book to take what we want from her.

  You know what we’re going to do to her.

  You can guess what we’re going to knead like dough.

  Where we’re putting the cream.

  But can her oven hold both of our…buns?

  She’s going to love it.

  She’s going to want it more and more.

  Our stuffing is going to change her life.

  There’s a reason for that.

  It’s not because its sweet that makes it so good.

  But the fact that it’s salty.

  Dedication

  To my mom, who always makes the best scones.

  More From The Authors

  Daphne Dawn

  Goldicox

  Double Feature

  3 Men of the House

  Double Dealing

  Natalie Knight

  Caught On Tape

  Painting Her

  Taste

  Chapter 1

  Leila

  I tie my long brown hair into a bun and take another deep breath through my nose. Feeling like I’m all thumbs, I finally know what that saying means now that I’m jumbling my fingers into a ball. I shake my head, let my hair drop, and start over.

  “They’re going to be amazing, girl,” Chase says in a comforting tone. “Don’t stress.”

  He’s reading me again. He’s pretty good at it by now. My best friend knows me well.

  “I know…”

  I’m displaying my new invention—scone stuffed cones. It’s super exciting, but I’m still anxious. I love my scones, and I hope everyone else will agree.

  “Relax, you’ve got this, Leila. Everything is perfect.”

  Chase is a great guy, a good roommate, and the perfect employee. To think, I nearly didn’t hire him. Well, to be honest, I still want him to trim his hair and beard, but I’ll worry about that later .

  Popping the fifth—or is it sixth?—mini scone into my mouth in what’s only been half an hour, I say, “Maybe I should try another one?”

  “Not like we’ll run out of samples, right?” He laughs, unlocking the front door.

  He’s teasing, but there’s truth in his words, too. Countless samples have already passed my lips, each one truly delicious. Why am I doubting myself so much?.

  “Wait,” I say, fixing the display one last time. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  “Ready?”

  “Yeah.” Smiling, I say, “Ready.”

  Chase turns the “We’re Open!” sign before I even get the words fully out of my mouth.

  “Beans & More is now open!”

  I’m ready for this moment. But I’ve also been worrying myself sick. Mornings are sacred for the customers who enjoy my café. Today is no different. People flood the shop instantly, lining up to get their caffeine fix.

  Chase turns his charm all the way up. He smiles and laughs along with the customers while manning the cash register and the coffee station. Chase never shows stress under fire, I tell everyone.

  He seems to have things under control, so I sneak into the backroom real fast. I have a small plate of miniature scone stuffed cones to put out. I pick up the plate and find myself staring at my baked goods.

  Is my invention good enough? Will people like it? Will people really like it, love it, even? Now’s the time to find out. Yep, it’s now or never.

  Walking to the front of the store, I hear the buzz of the customers. It’s really filling up in here. People are packing the place out. But I still pause.

  I will not let fear hold me back. Not today.

  Marching with my head held up high, I set the tray at the side of the register next to a tiny sign that reads, “Free Samples.”

  “Hey, look at that!” Chase says, pointing. “Who wants some free samples of our new scone stuffed cones?”

  I freeze. I literally just stand still. Suddenly, people are picking up the miniature cones and eating them quickly, at an almost alarming rate. I can barely believe what I’m seeing, let alone what I’m hearing: orders. People are already placing orders for the scones.

  “See,” Chase says, passing by me, his bright smile a major reassurance. “Told you, Leila. I told you these would be a hit.”

  Smiling back, I say, “Looks like you were right, Chase.”

  The morning crowd is settling in, taking their normal seats. Beans & More is a haven for the millennials who like to work and study away from home while enjoying a fancy caffeinated beverage and—hopefully—now a scone.

  The click-clack of laptop keys is as soothing as the easy jazz playing over the stereo. T
his is why loving my job is so easy: people are happy, and getting them what they need makes me happy too. Or at least, almost happy.

  Glancing up, I see Dianna emerge from the line. She’s been a friend and loyal customer since the day of my grand opening. I really value her opinion, so I gesture to Chase to give her a stuffed scone from behind the counter.

  “Hey, Dianna! Oh, you changed your hair!”

  Dianna’s face lights up. She’s cut it shorter, with one side shaved off. Bless her, she’s trying to be hip.

  “Yup, I did!”

  “It looks lovely.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Say, Dianna, could I tempt your tummy with one of our new berry scone stuffed cones?”

  Chase points to the very one in the display case. He’s doing his job perfectly.

  “Tell you what, I’ll give it to you,” Chase melodramatically cups his hand around his mouth to whisper, “for free, darling. All you have to do is eat it and tell me and the boss lady what you honestly think.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, but here’s the deal—it’s just for you, ‘cause you know you’re my favorite.”

  “I am.”

  “You are.”

  Chase gives her the scone. I watch and wait, holding my breath. Inside, I’m chanting, Like it, like it, like it…

  Dianna’s first bite is careful. Slow. She taste-tests it, just in case she doesn’t like it. But then, in front of me, she takes a huge bite and her face brightens.

  “Oh my god, this is so delicious,” she says, smiling wide. “You’ve truly outdone yourself, Leila. Seriously. This is so good.”

  “Honestly?”

  “Honestly,” she says, smiling. “In fact, can I take a dozen home with me?”

  A huge grin breaks across my face. “Of course, you can, babe.”

  I’m feeling better and better about this. My scones are a hit. This is the beginning of a good—no, make that fucking fantastic day.

  Chapter 2

  Leila

  I look back on yesterday and all I can think is, Wow, it truly flew by. I worked hard, and the day was one big blur.

  I’m so glad I got a well-deserved good night’s rest. I needed it.

  Chase, on the other hand, went out partying last night. I seriously have no idea how he does it.

  It’s a beautiful morning, the kind where the air smells extra fresh, like there’s a bunch of budding flowers nearby. Chase and I walk to the café. He’s in the middle of telling me a funny story about one of the people who came to the stop yesterday when he suddenly goes quiet and still.

  We’re already at Beans & More, and what I see in front of me is the last thing I expected.

  “Is it me, or does it look like there’s a line out our door? Wait, did the new Nintendo come out today? Are we selling the new Nintendo? Did you hold one for me? You know I want one,” Chase says.

  “That can’t be for the café…can it?”

  But as we get closer, to my utter surprise, it’s obvious—that long line is, in fact, waiting at my door.

  “Maybe all the other shops are closed today. Is it a holiday?” Chase smiles.

  It’s clear to me that he’s a little nervous. I am, too.

  “Maybe.” I smile back, but inside I’m more than a little afraid. What’s going on?

  As we pass through the crowded line, I notice everyone’s in a good mood and being cordial.

  “Give me a minute, and I’ll have the café opened immediately,” I say, waving to the crowd.

  “It’s still fifteen minutes before we usually open,” Chase whispers to me. “They never show up this early.”

  Opening the shop is the easy part. Most of the prep work is done the night before. So, I’m proud of myself when the doors open in record time.

  “Come on in!” Chase calls to the crowd.

  Standing behind the counter, I tie my hair back into my usual bun. I listen to the customers, old and new, while they place their orders. It seems like everyone in that long line is here for one thing: my new scone stuffed cones.

  “And you get a scone. And you get a scone. And you get a scone.” Chase mimics Oprah while keying in another order. “Everybody gets a scone!”

  “These things are great, Leila. Keep up the good work!”

  “Yeah! So good!”

  Customers compliment me faster than I can say thank you. I’m in shock, not expecting this kind of response to my creation; I’ve dreamt of it, sure, but not to this degree.

  “Chase, I’m thinking I better start baking some more.”

  “Whatever number you’re thinking, Leila darling, double it.”

  I look at the line, then at my display case, and I quickly realize I’ll undoubtedly run out of scones at this pace. So, motioning for Chase to step away from the register a moment, I give him new instructions.

  “Limit everyone to six.”

  “Six per person?” He arches a brow at me.

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, I mean it might cause a small stir. Like, half these orders so far have been for a dozen.”

  “I’ll start making more and get them out as fast as possible. Just let everyone know more are coming.”

  “Will do.”

  “Thank you, Chase.”

  “No problem, boss. Now you get back to the scone mines.”

  Laughing and skipping into the backroom, I realize Chase is right—this will require doubling—no, make that tripling—my usual output. Maybe even quadrupling it.

  Scone stuffed cones are a major success. I’m a major success. I couldn’t be happier. Looks like my dreams are finally coming true.

  * * *

  By ten o’clock the crowd is finally thinning. Three straight hours of nonstop customers—I’m almost happy it’s ending. Almost. When has it ever been like this in my tiny café? I hope everyone got what they wanted.

  RING. RING. RING.

  “I got it, Chase.”

  I answer the phone. I don’t recognize the voice at first, but as they speak, I begin to realize who it is—The local TV station’s resident foodie!

  Oh my god, I’ve been watching her segments for years. She’s one of the few food critics with any discernable skill.

  “So glad you called,” I say, barely able to contain my excitement.

  “I was hoping to feature your new stuffed cones on my show,” she says.

  As exciting as her words are, they don’t stop me from correcting her. “Scone stuffed cones.”

  “Scone stuffed cones, yes. I had an intern pick up a batch this morning. Delicious.”

  “Thank you. That means a lot to me, and yes, I’d absolutely love to be featured!”

  “Great, we’ll be by the shop soon. And we can set up all the details then. Sound good?”

  “Sounds great. Thank you.”

  Holy shit .

  “Was that who I think it was?” Chase asks.

  “It was.”

  “No way, the President of the United States is coming to the shop? He wants a scone?”

  He’s joking, but I know he knows who the call was really from.

  “You don’t have to worry about him. I’m the one who’ll fire you.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “That’s wonderful news!” a tiny voice says.

  I turn to see Dianna in the line.

  “Hey, Dianna,” I say, smiling.

  “Beans & More deserves the best. They deserve a feature—well, two features,” she says.

  “A double feature,” Chase says, laughing. “Nice.”

  “I just mean it’s time you get the spotlight you deserved.”

  Nodding, I reply, “It is, isn’t it?”

  Fishing her oversized phone out of her pants pocket, Dianna says loudly, “Oh, have you seen this?”

  Dianna shows me the screen—a social media app, one that tracks responses. Apparently, the hashtag for scone stuffed cones is going viral. Dianna thumbs the screen to the side and there are dozens, maybe even hun
dreds, of photos of my café and the scones.

  “Is this for real?”

  “The realist,” Deanna answers, cocking her head, trying to look hip.

  A sudden burst of energy causes me to wrap my arms around Dianna and give her a big hug. “Thanks!”

  “No problem,” she says, giggling.

  “Chase, Dianna…It’s time we get ourselves featured!”

  Chapter 3

  Blake

  I play with the latest gadget with my right hand. It’s called a fidget spinner. Maddie bought me one to keep my fingers from doing other annoying things. Since then, I’ve become obsessed and bought several more. My current one is a gold dragon.

  Mesmerized, I watch it balance perfectly on the tip of my finger, its wings spinning so fast I can’t see their shape until it loses its velocity and starts to slow down.

  The other benefit of this toy is that I can pretend to be listening to Maddie’s conversation on the phone while my thoughts are actually elsewhere.

  A moment of inattention on my part causes the spinner to topple off my finger. I bend down to retrieve it. In doing so, I lean on the remote and the television turns on.

  Distracted by color and movement on the screen, I pick up the remote and start flicking through the channels. My mind’s buzzing, ideas are zooming through my head like a whirlwind.

  Maddie is still on the phone, but I’m not sure what she’s talking about anymore.

  She’s been with me ever since I moved up into management in the family business. I don’t want to fuck her, and that’s a benefit for a guy like me who would easily fly through assistants otherwise.

  She’s one of those diligent PAs one can only dream of. She knows me better than most, but I wouldn’t call her a friend. Maddie has no trouble understanding her role. Me, employer; she, employee. I think she likes it that way, too.

  Who wants their boss lusting after them? I’m sure Maddie doesn’t. If I take time to look at her long enough, I can see some very attractive features about her, but I don’t take the time to look at her or get to know her.

  Staff is staff. Friendship and staff don’t mix. Dad taught me that lesson a long time ago, and I’ve stuck to it. If you want to be my friend, don’t work for me.