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Three Times the Fun: A Reverse Harem Thanksgiving Love Story

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by Blythe Reid




  Table of Contents

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Three Times the Fun

  Blythe Reid

  BrixBaxter Publishing

  Contents

  Introduction

  Story One

  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

  Epilogue

  Story Two

  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

  Epilogue

  Story Three

  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

  Epilogue

  The Professor’s Forbidden Virgin

  1. Isobel

  2. Alec

  3. Isobel

  4. Alec

  5. Isobel

  6. Alec

  7. Isobel

  8. Alec

  9. Isobel

  10. Alec

  11. Isobel

  12. Alec

  13. Isobel

  14. Alec

  15. Isobel

  16. Alec

  Epilogue

  The Billionaire’s Wicked Virgin

  1. Liam

  2. Harper

  3. Liam

  4. Harper

  5. Liam

  6. Harper

  7. Liam

  8. Harper

  9. Liam

  10. Harper

  11. Liam

  12. Harper

  13. Liam

  14. Harper

  15. Liam

  16. Harper

  Epilogue

  The SEAL’s Little Virgin

  1. Trace

  2. Embry

  3. Trace

  4. Embry

  5. Trace

  6. Embry

  7. Trace

  8. Embry

  9. Trace

  10. Embry

  11. Trace

  12. Embry

  13. Trace

  14. Embry

  15. Trace

  16. Embry

  17. Trace

  Epilogue

  The Biker’s Dirty Virgin

  1. Spencer

  2. Alissa

  3. Spencer

  4. Alissa

  5. Spencer

  6. Alissa

  7. Spencer

  8. Alissa

  9. Spencer

  10. Alissa

  11. Spencer

  12. Alissa

  13. Spencer

  14. Alissa

  15. Spencer

  16. Alissa

  Red and her Wolfe

  1. Lucien

  2. Scarlet

  3. Lucien

  4. Scarlet

  5. Lucien

  6. Scarlet

  7. Lucien

  8. Scarlet

  9. Lucien

  10. Scarlet

  11. Lucien

  12. Scarlet

  13. Lucien

  14. Scarlet

  15. Lucien

  16. Scarlet

  17. Lucien

  18. Scarlet

  19. Lucien

  20. Scarlet

  21. Lucien

  22. Scarlet

  23. Lucien

  24. Scarlet

  25. Lucien

  26. Scarlet

  27. Lucien

  28. Scarlet

  29. Lucien

  Epilogue

  Insider Group

  About the Author

  Join my Insider Group and keep up with the latest and greatest.

  The story below does have an extended epilogue that I wrote just for my Insider’s Group! Everyone seems to love just a little more when the story is over. If that’s you, please join my Insider’s group (link below) and grab the extended epilogue to The Biker’s Dirty Virgin! I’d love to see you there and share some goodies that no one else gets! Come join us.

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  Story One

  1

  “Oh, the holidays,” I mumbled to myself as I pressed my forehead against the plexiglass next to me. I was ten thousand feet in the air, making my way down to the city of lights. It was going to be good to get back home, but the holidays were always hustle and bustle time in my family.

  I flew into Las Vegas from London, having finished a series of fruitful business meetings for work. I wasn’t lucky in many things, but when it came to the job, I had it made. I always had meetings around the world; one week I’d be sent to London, the next I could be sent to Montreal or Paris.

  I lived in Las Vegas, and it never got boring. It was always a thrill to me to see those lights whenever my plane was landing. Vegas had everything that I wanted in life and then some.

  I usually travelled light whenever I was on a business trip, namely because I hated waiting at baggage claim. I went out to the pick-up area and requested an Uber for myself. Fortunately, since it was the airport, there were anxious Ubers waiting all around.

  Mine pulled up in less than a minute. He was an older, Arabic gentleman in a car much nicer than my own.

  He rolled down the passenger window. “Morrigan Chase?” he asked.

  “That’s me,” I replied. I went into the backseat, tossed my carry-on bag on the seat next to me and relaxed.

  “I was afraid the app had spelled your name wrong,” he commented.

  I chuckled. People always thought it was strange that my name had an extra ‘R’. “Most people think that.”

  I glanced up at the front at his phone, where it had my picture and name displayed next to the map. I hated how I looked in that picture.

  I checked my reflection in my phone, happy to see that even after a long flight, I still looked good. My long, dark hair looked almost exactly as it did when I left my hotel that morning. My big blue eyes, however, were both red and puffy and revealed just how exhausted I truly was. I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before.

  “So, where am I taking you tonight?” my driver asked me.

  “To my parents’ house,” I answered. “I’ll put in the address in a second.”

  “Are you in town for Thanksgiving?” he asked.

  “I am, but I also live here,” I said. With my parents. Though I left that part out. Wasn’t exactly good conversation material.

  After being recently divorced, I couldn’t yet bring myself to get my own place. I had hung around my parents so often after the divorce that they eventually offered to let me stay with them until I “got back on my feet”.

  Although technically, I wasn’t recently divorced. It was off
icially a year since we signed the papers. I regret signing the marriage papers more than I did the divorce ones.

  I married at 22, when I was young, naïve and didn’t know that I could do better for myself. I divorced at 26, and I was grateful that I didn’t stay with him any longer than that: I had a fantastic job, no kids, and I was still gorgeous. My divorce was clean, which allowed me to experiment in things that were dirty.

  I received a call while I was still in the car: Dani Thomas, my best friend.

  “I’m sorry to be rude,” I said to the driver. “Would you mind if I take this call?”

  He shook his head and gave me a thumbs-up.

  I answered the phone. “What up, crazy?”

  “Not much, sister,” Dani replied. “Are you back in town?”

  “Yeah, I just flew in like an hour ago.”

  “Nice! How was London?”

  “It was awesome. The buyers were definitely interested in the new line.”

  I worked as a fashion designer for a company called Vicki Verelli. I didn’t just design the clothing lines, but I also tried to make deals with other companies to try and sell them.

  “Awesome, you’re crushing it!” said Dani. “You home yet?”

  “Nah, I’m in an Uber,” I told her.

  “Oh,” she went. “Well, still, let me tell you about ‘Deplicious’.”

  “Who or what is ‘Deplicious’?”

  “It’s this brand-new sex club that just opened,” said Dani. “I know you said you’ve been looking for a change of scenery, and well, I think you’ll be happy that you tried it.”

  I had to admit that Dani did know all of the hottest places. After my asshole of an ex-husband decided to cheat on me with at least two other women, it was Dani who opened me up to a whole new world of fun. Sexual fun.

  After my ex-husband Brad fucked around on me, I took some introspective time. He’d always treated me like shit. I’d just spent most of our marriage making excuses for him.

  It wasn’t just the infidelity; he never respected what I did for work, or how much time and patience was needed whenever I was travelling. He wasn’t kind at all either, and he was usually very short with me whenever we did have time together.

  Since the divorce, I went to the far side of rebellion, and spent my time fucking random guys at bars or clubs, having mindless fun while quenching my thirst for sex.

  It was fun. And I was a horny little thing, though I’d tried for years to squelch that part of my personality. No one wants to be labeled a slut, but somewhere deep inside of me – I wanted to be one. If just for a night.

  Post Brad, I learned that I had a remarkably high libido and that it took a lot for me to feel fully satisfied. I still hadn’t found my limit, if I even had one. I was not looking to settle back down anytime soon. What was the fucking point of it all? Sex was enough – for now.

  “I’ll have to check it out,” I told Dani. “Where is Deplicious? I’ve never heard of it.” It was a bitch to say, but something about it had tingles running down my spine.

  “It literally just opened up,” she said. “It’s just outside Vegas- not in the city limits, because, well, it’s one of those places that aren’t exactly legal in the city.”

  “I see. Well, you know I haven’t been to many clubs like that, but I want to explore them. Sounds like my cup of tea for sure.”

  “Just look it up, I’m sure they have the address on their website,” said Dani.

  “Maybe I’ll check it out tomorrow night,” I said. “Thanks, Dani! I’ll let you know how it goes.”

  “Mom.” Relief ran through me seeing her, and I did the first thing that I usually did when I got back home, I hugged my mom. I was close to both of my parents, thankfully. My dad didn’t usually say much, but he was a good listener.

  Mom and Dad were both excellent cooks, which meant while the holidays might be a little nutty, they were filled with delicious treats. I was looking forward to the meal that awaited me on Thanksgiving later that week. In anticipation for me flying in from London, my mom had decided on steak, potatoes and rolls. It was my favorite thing to eat outside of our traditional Thanksgiving meal.

  The smell of dinner filled my nose, and my mom ushered me over to the table.

  “Time to eat?” I asked before laughing. My dad was already slipping a piece of turkey into his mouth. The ‘who-done-it’ look on his face was priceless.

  “So, honey, how did all your meetings go?” my mom asked after giving my dad a warning look.

  “I think they went really good,” I answered. “They seemed really interested. They said they’ll call when they know things for sure, but that the lines I showed them seemed right up their alley.”

  “Good!” my dad exclaimed with a mouthful of something.

  “The hotel they had me staying at was super nice, too,” I said. “It was too cold, though.”

  “Well, it can get cold here at nights, too, you know,” my mom commented.

  “Yeah, but not like it was over there,” I assured her. “It’s good to be back here. I like it a little hot.”

  I sped up on eating once Garrison, the family dog, found his way into the dining room and sat beside me with his big, hungry eyes. I tapped him on the nose and began to think about what the next night might hold in store for me.

  It was truly good to be back.

  2

  I admired my reflection in the mirror, reveling in just how sexy I felt. I had on a short, revealing dress that showed off a good portion of my chest and bare back. It did an excellent job of showing off my slender yet curvy figure. I’d worked damn hard for every curve in the gym, and there was nothing better than showing them off when the time was right.

  I had worn this dress on a few occasions; and during many of them, many men would tell me that I was gorgeous and that I was their ideal fantasy girl. Whether I gave them more of their ideal fantasies was up to me, and whether they had genuinely meant what they said or if they had tried the “ideal fantasy” line on every other girl in the place.

  Once I felt ready, I exited my room and headed for the door. My parents looked up from the couch to get a look at me.

  “Where you off to, Morrigan?” my dad asked and gave me a look. “Especially in that dress.”

  “Oh Dad. I’m grown up. Besides, I’m heading out to meet up with Dani,” I lied. “We’re going out for a few drinks, maybe get something to eat.”

  “You look really lovely!” my mom complimented. “Be safe! Don’t drink and drive.”

  “I won’t, Mom, I promise,” I said knowing that I was likely lying again.

  I was really going to Deplicious, hoping that the night might lead to some wicked sex with a hot stranger that could potentially extinguish the burning that I felt inside of me. I hadn’t engaged in any real shenanigans while I was in London, and I was ready to make up for it.

  And if things went really well? I’d have a few dicks to play with, all at the same time.

  From the outside, Deplicious looked like a lot of typical Vegas clubs.

  On the inside, it seemed almost like a typical club, as well. The differences were with what lay in the shadows.

  The club was dark. The dance floor was almost impossible to see, but you could feel the heat coming from the crowd. The only helpful lights in the place came from the bar area, where I gravitated to first.

  “Shot of tequila, please,” I ordered.

  As the bartender poured my shot, I noticed off in certain parts of the club that there were many separate rooms. Some of these rooms were concealed by doors, and some were thinly concealed with a dark curtain. While you couldn’t see what was happening in these rooms, it was plain to see once you looked over at the rooms long enough: Sex of all kinds was happening, with all genders and in many different positions. The music in the club was loud, but every so often I could hear loud moans of pleasure, female and male. It was exciting.

  I got my shot of tequila, downing it within seconds of it getting placed
in front of me. The bartender eyed me, giving me a coy grin.

 

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