by Alexis Angel
“Only if this is real,” I remind him. “If it’s just the protein shakes fucking with her head, this is over—it has to end. You know that as well as I do.”
“Yeah, I fuckin’ do,” Chase says, tearing a paper bar napkin to shreds as he considers the worst. “But man, I don’t want it to end like that. What we’ve got with Kara—she’s changed me, that fuckin’ girl. She makes me a better man. Every damn day.”
I hate to admit it…but that’s true for me as well, come to think. Before Kara, I would have fucked with this bartender’s head all night until he was sure I was going to take him back to my room and have my wicked way with him…
Then I would have picked up the hottest woman in this bar and fucked her right here on the bar top, just to see the look on the poor bastard’s face.
After Kara…no. There is no after Kara.
Kara fucking Gilmore is a be-all, end-all kind of woman. After having her, no other bitch is going to be able to satisfy me.
Which is a very fucking real concern if it turns out that this whole time, it’s been some kind of cum-based brainwashing that’s drawn Kara to Chase and me rather than the very real, visceral connection that we’ve developed for her.
That’s why we need to put this thing to bed once and for all tonight. Either we figure out that her love for us is genuine, consenting, and completely fucking real—or we figure out how we’re going to live our lives knowing that as far as women go, Kara Gilmore was the only one we’ll ever have.
I’ve been called a sociopath more fucking times than I would like in this lifetime, but I know that can’t be true—because even the thought of losing Kara’s love rips my fucking heart out.
Just then, my phone rings—it’s work, surprise, surprise.
“Eric Hale speaking,” I say into the receiver. “Talk to me.”
“ERIC!” a breathy female voice exclaims victoriously on the other end of the line. “Oh, my god, it’s you! It’s really fucking you. This is Becka—remember me? I’m the taste-test girl from the Protein Plus labs—but of course you remember, you guys fucked me so fucking good last time! I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since—is Chase there? Do you miss me? Come fuck me again, guys, I fucking need you, I’ll do like—I’ll do anything you want, just—”
There’s the sound of a brief, ugly struggle. I give Chase a concerned look.
This can’t be fucking good.
“Mr. Hale?” a new female voice says into the phone. “It’s Linda—I’m so sorry, but things have been insane over here lately, and—”
I sigh. “Women are going insane over the protein shakes?”
“Yes. Exactly.” Linda laughs with a hint of hysteria attached to her voice, and I can’t help but feel like this is my fault.
I’m the CEO of an important, life-changing company—not some average asshole who can afford to make such dire fucking mistakes.
My employees depend on me to make good decisions—and the public depends on me to not turn them into cum-obsessed horny fuck-bimbos who can’t think straight unless they’re guzzling my seed like the bitches they are.
This is on my shoulders—and I need to fix it. Stat.
“Stop production immediately,” I inform Linda. “I want our test subjects like Becka weaned off the stuff and properly compensated for their ordeal—and then I want you to get with legal and marketing. Let the public know that if they’re feeling strange or addictive behaviors, we’ll offer free resources to alleviate the strain the shakes have put on them—and pull everything from our distributors, too, if you haven’t already.”
“We can’t,” Linda reminds me. “Everywhere is already sold out. There was a fist fight in Reno just this morning over the last case of Two Girls One Cupcake—women are seriously losing their minds over this stuff.”
“So I’ve heard. Keep me updated,” I tell her, preparing to hang up.
“Eric—wait!” Linda gasps into the phone.
“Yes?”
“I was just wondering, if, um…if maybe when you two are back from Japan, you and Chase might want to…you know. Fuck me,” Linda begs. “I know you have the girl from the pageant, Kara, and everything, but I really don’t mind sharing—I mean, she’s fucking gorgeous, she can have me, too. All three of you could take me together, just, oh my god, Eric, please, please fuck me, please—”
I sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose and shaking my head.
“Linda, get off the Protein Plus, have yourself some water, and get yourself to bed,” I say reassuringly. “It will all be better in the morning—I promise.”
“And then you’ll fuck me?” she whispers hopefully.
“No,” I tell her sternly. “But it won’t be so bad once you’ve had some rest.”
Chase and I share a dire look as I hang up the phone.
“Well, it was fun while it lasted,” I say, tipping back the rest of my drink. The bartender trots over immediately and tries to pour me another, but instead I just slide him a generous tip for his services.
Unfortunately, it’s not the tip he was hoping for—but we play for the wrong team for this poor bastard, so money will have to do.
“I just hope Kara forgives us,” Chase says. “If we had known…”
“Yeah,” I agree. “We wouldn’t have given her that shit in the first place. Let’s just start with apologies and work from there.”
“As soon as she gets back?”
“As soon as she gets back,” I agree. I don’t love it, but I know what we have to do.
Kara
I trained. I practiced so fucking hard. I did everything I could to turn myself into a lean, mean, naked beauty pageant-winning machine.
But now that I’m here, and it’s real, and it’s all actually happening...I’m so not ready for this pageant. Like, not even fucking close.
It’s not that I’m not hot enough. I know I look fucking good. And it’s not that I’m not strong enough—I can out-lift any of these other women without breaking a fucking sweat.
My hair hangs down to my waist in a long, dark golden braid, my tits are perky, and my ass is nice and firm.
I should be fucking owning this rehearsal...but I’m not.
I’m too fucking horny to even think straight.
Chase and Eric made me come, like, a dozen fucking times before I left this morning, and now I’m a horny little ball of desire. It’s all I can think about—sucking dick, taking dick. Cocks and balls and cum, oh my!
Chase and Eric are at the forefront of my mind. I just can’t seem to shake them or get them out of my head.
They’re so damn sexy and gorgeous, and they’re all I can think about.
I want them to fuck the living shit out of me. I want them to fuck me so hard that I won’t be able to walk for a week.
That’s how badly I want them.
I’m so wet that, as we practice the parade portion of the pageant, my juices are dripping down my thighs, making them slippery and totally fucking distracting.
I try to wipe away the proof of desire by rubbing my knees together, but it’s not enough to make any difference.
And then, I fucking do it.
I fucking fall. Again.
This time, I face-plant even worse than the last time—if that’s even possible.
I hit the stage hard, and there are no sexy billionaire boyfriends to help me up this time. They tried to be here, but the pageant director was immovable on that front. No men allowed.
I fumble and shake as I try to pick myself up with dignity, but I’m not sure that’s going to be possible.
To my relief, Miss Ireland and Miss Japan come running to my aid.
“Ooch. Fucked that one up, didn’t you?” Miss Ireland drawls in an accent I find absolutely adorable.
She ruffles my hair, her tits bouncing just inches away from my face—not to mention her pussy as she crouches down to help.
But considering that everyone else on stage is naked right now, I think I’ve been desensitized a bi
t.
“Poor lass—what’ve you hurt?” she asks.
“Just my pride,” I say with a wince.
“Back on the horse, then,” she says, grinning. She and Miss Japan both take me by the arms and help me back to my feet, and we continue with the parade like nothing happened.
But my luck doesn’t hold up for long.
“Bit of a one-trick pony, ain’t ya?” Miss Australia sneers with a cackle, sashaying past all three of us and jumping ahead in the line-up. “You’re fucking unco as fuck, mate. If you’re not gonna watch where you’re going, might as well put a bag over your head—save us the pain of looking at ya.”
I roll my eyes. What a bitch. Women are supposed to empower each other and lift each other up, not tear each other down by laughing like a hyena when one falls and busts their ass...no matter how many times it happens.
I push that little incident behind me and imagine Chase and Eric back at the hotel, fucking me with their huge, thick, and throbbing cocks. I want them to have their way with me, over and over again.
Having sex with them will clear my head. That’s all I need—another fuck and some more of their delicious cum.
After my set is over and the practice concludes, I begin walking backstage en route to the limo I know will be waiting for me. I’m mentally exhausted, but physically burning up and ready for the guys.
I put my pink silk robe on and pop open a Protein Plus shake. I slurp it down like I haven’t had a drink in a decade. I pull out my phone to tell Eric and Chase that I’m on my way.
That’s when I stop in my tracks. There’s a text message from Ryan waiting for me.
Need to talk. I’m in Japan. Where are you?
Fuck.
Why is he doing this to me? This little text message is really throwing a wrench into my night plans with Eric and Chase. I’ve already handled enough drama for a night.
“Kara?” I hear a man’s voice call out.
Shit.
I turn around and gasp.
Ryan is backstage. Our eyes meet, and my stomach flips. Bile forms in my throat, but I wash it down quickly with another gulp of my Protein Plus shake.
He must see how white my face is—or maybe it’s green. Either way, I know I look startled and probably like I’m getting ready to barf all over him.
He jogs up to me, a panicked expression on his face.
“I’m so sorry, Kara, I didn’t mean to alarm you.” He’s frantic, using animated gestures with his hands to explain himself and what the hell he’s doing here.
I want to be the one to speak first. “Ryan...uh...I gotta tell you...this is one hell of a coincidence.” I chuckle nervously.
Ryan stutters but quickly recovers. “I-I’m sorry,” he apologizes again. “When I saw that you were here in Japan promoting Protein Plus at the Miss Sexy USA pageant, I started digging into the brand.”
I shake my head, confused. “Um, why would you do something like that?” He licks his lips and glances around, looking paranoid, as if somebody might be eavesdropping in on our conversation.
“Listen to me,” he says and tries to grip my elbow, but I shove him off.
“It would be really great if you don’t touch me,” I hiss.
He nods but leans in to whisper quietly. “I found some unsettling information about the brand,” he confesses.
I cross my arms and furrow my brow. “Like what?” I ask expectantly.
“Like how several women have come forward and claimed to be irrationally horny for your two stud muffins after drinking the product. It’s warping women’s brains, Kara. If you’ve been drinking it, it’s probably warped yours, too.”
I scoff. “That’s crazy. They’re just protein shakes, Ryan. Take off your tin foil hat, and stop being such a fucking weirdo.”
“It’s not crazy. They’re not allowing their distributors to restock it, and their legal team is already scrambling to cover their asses,” Ryan says. “Besides, I know you, Kara. You don’t act like a slut. The only reason you are even out here doing this crap is because you’ve been totally affected by that fucking drink.”
“Look, I have to go,” I say brashly and move away from him.
“Please,” Ryan calls out with such forceful desperation that it makes me turn around. “Kara, you’ve gotta believe me!”
“What?” I say with impatience. “You blocked me out of your life for two fucking years, dude. I don’t owe you the time of day.”
“The only reason you’re competing is because they brainwashed you. They’re drugging you with that drink, and the side effects are making you wild. This isn’t you, Kara.” There’s desire in Ryan’s eyes—I don’t even pretend not to notice it.
So, there it is. He just wants me back, and he’s willing to spew whatever bullshit he can to reclaim me—or at least get me away from his competition.
He’s jealous, and I pity him, honestly. I also think it’s daring and bold for him to fly all the way to Japan just to spew some kind of conspiracy theory about women being brainwashed by my boyfriends.
“The only crazy one in this situation is you,” I huff and spin on a heel, ready to get away from him because, right now, he disgusts me.
He jogs up to meet me and stands in front of me defiantly, blocking my path.
I sigh with exasperation. “How far will you go to sprout lies, Ryan?”
“I’m not lying!” he roars so loudly that I jump and recoil.
He immediately realizes his mistake and eases out of his abrasive tone. “I’m sorry,” he whispers for the billionth time since our encounter began.
“What do you really want, Ryan?” I narrow my eyes at him, ready for him to get to the point.
“I want you to come back to the States,” he pleads. “I miss you. I miss...us. Come back home, Kara, where you belong. Be my girlfriend again.”
“Um...no, thanks.” I wrinkle my nose in disapproval. “That’s, like, the worst idea I’ve ever heard in my life.”
Ryan’s face collapses into regret, but he has only himself to blame. It’s over between us. He had his chance, and he blew it.
I stand there, staring at him and scrutinizing his face even though I should be running as far as I can, away from him.
His eyes glaze over with wonderment and longing. “You’re so beautiful. You look sexier than ever, Kara.”
I shift my weight awkwardly and then snap myself out of it.
“Piss off,” I tell him.
“Excuse me?” Ryan looks stunned.
“Oh, don’t you understand that? It means this conversation is over.”
“Kara, please,” Ryan calls out behind me, refusing to relent or give up and go home. “You’re not yourself right now. Those drinks are dangerous. Please...if you won’t talk to me, at least heed my warning.”
I ignore him and jog to my waiting limo. I climb inside and throw the door shut behind me with a slam.
Fuck Ryan. He can’t tear me down or break my stride. I’m on top of the world right now.
But as the Tokyo night sky drifts and blurs through the window of the back seat, I find myself seething.
I’d be lying if I said that Ryan’s claims haven’t rattled me...
And there’s only one way to make sure it’s not true.
Kara
I have to admit it, my head is fucking spinning. Falling flat on my face earlier―combined with Ryan filling my mind with his toxic fucking bullshit―is enough to nearly make my brain explode.
I’m tempted to have a drink—or an entire fucking pizza. But to face Chase and Eric, I need to be composed, not sloshed.
Because one thing is for fucking sure, if I start with one drink—or one greasy slice right now—I won’t stop.
For some reason, the drive to the hotel seems to take extra fucking long. Is the driver fucking lost, or am I just too impatient to function right now?
Take a deep breath Kara, I tell myself and do just that.
The words Ryan spat at me swirl round and round my
head like bees in a fucking bottle.
Of course I didn’t want Ryan to see it, but he’s got me rattled. What if there is some fucking truth to all the shit he said? What if there are really hundreds of horny sex-crazed women after my two men?
My men. Fuck.
I might not even need a drink to be under the influence. I’ve been guzzling as much Protein Plus shakes as I’ve wanted over the last few months—and I’ve wanted a whole fucking lot.
Am I under the spell of their magic fucking cum, too? I shake my head.
This is one fucking screwed up mess if Ryan is telling me the truth.
I clutch onto the life-saving thought Ryan was only fucking motivated by getting me back. He finally saw the light and realized what a fucking treasure he lost when he booted me out of his life two years ago. Maybe the only way he knows how to get me back is by spreading untruths about the two men I’ve fallen for.
I can only hope.
Finally, the limo comes to a stop. I practically leap out of it and run through the lobby. I need to hear it from their fucking lips. I need to hear them tell me it’s all fucking right.
In my hurry to get to the room, I bump into a good looking young man who catches me just as I stumble because of our fucking impact.
“Sorry,” I mumble and keep going. There’s definite lust in his eyes and his hands held onto me a bit longer than necessary.
If Chase and Eric had been here, they would’ve beaten the shit out of this guy for getting so handsy with me. But they’re not here—and I don’t fucking care. I’m on a fucking mission, and nothing or nobody is going to get in my way.
I see them as soon as I burst through the door.
“Hey, babe,” Eric smiles and comes toward me.
“How was it?” Chase is close on his heels.
“Is it true? Fucking tell me!” I yell. I’m breathing harder than if I’d just bench-pressed fifty reps of my max weight. “Your fucking protein shakes. Are they really fucking with women’s heads? Are they fucking with mine?”
The second I see the glances they exchange, my heart drops right into my fucking little toe.
They knew. All this time, they fucking knew.
“Is what true?” asks Chase, which makes me feel worse.
