24 Inches: A MFM Romantic Comedy

by Alexis Angel

  Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I find the strength to stand up and amble all the way to the door. I press one eye against the peephole and see Anders standing on the other side.

  “Anders,” I cry out as I open the door and, giving him no time to react, I press my body against his and rest my face on his chest, my arms wrapped tight around his chest.

  “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he whispers, placing one hand on the back on my head and the other on the small of my back.

  “No, it isn’t,” I sob, allowing him to come inside the apartment and closing the door behind us. “It’s … it’s awful!”

  “I know, Lana, but…” he starts but then trails off, and I realize that he doesn’t know what to tell me right now. He trusted Logan as much as I did, and he never saw it coming.

  “How could this happen?” I continue, pulling back from him and looking into his eyes. His expression is one of sadness but, more than that, there’s strength under that sadness. Somehow, that makes me feel better. I wipe the tears from my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

  I go back to the couch and sit down with Anders by my side.

  “I don’t know what got into him, Lana, I really don’t… Grady must've offered him a cut of the royalties, or a fat commission. Either way… we can’t undo it, Lana. And I’m sorry. I truly am. I should've never allowed you to give Logan that document.”

  “Hey, it’s not your fault,” I whisper, placing my hand on top of his and managing a weak smile.

  “I should've known better. I should've protected you.”

  “No! You were perfect, Anders … none of this is your fault,” I try to convince him, but he just looks out of the window and sighs heavily, running one hand through his combed hair and disheveling it.

  “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Lana. I know you didn’t want things to happen like this.”

  “At least you’re here,” I whisper, resting my head against his shoulder and placing my hand over his chest, feeling his heartbeat under the palm of my hand. I take a deep breath, feeling his scent, and close my eyes for just a couple of seconds. I allow his closeness to calm me down, and it doesn’t take long before the tears dry in my eyes.

  “I’ll always be here,” he whispers into my ear, and his words feel like the best thing that has happened to me today. I press my body against his and open my eyes; looking into him, I manage a weak smile.

  “Always?”

  “Always, Lana. Because…” He runs his tongue over his lips, and then a deep seriousness takes over the lines in his face. “Because I love you. More than anything.”

  I keep on looking into his eyes, completely stunned, and I find my lips moving of their own accord. “I love you too,” I tell him in one single breath, and next thing I know I’m reaching for his mouth with mine. Softly, I brush my lips against his and let him wrap his big arms around my tiny body.

  “I love you,” I repeat, enjoying the way the words seem to roll over my tongue. “I love you, I love you,” I continue, and then I turn on the couch and climb on top of him, opening my legs and straddling him.

  He places his hands on my thighs, over my yoga pants, and rests his forehead against mine.

  “I promise you. Whatever happens, I’ll always be here for you.”

  With that, he comes for me and kisses me again, the tip of his tongue gently parting my lips. Taking both my hands to his chest, I start unbuttoning his shirt, taking my time with each of the buttons. I feel my knuckles brushing against his naked skin as I go and, by the time I push his open shirt down his shoulders and arms, the sorrow from before has been replaced by a deep urge.

  An urge to feel all of Anders’ love.

  “I want you. Right now,” I breathe out with a heavy tone, and he just smiles at me and allows his fingers to slide around my ass. Cupping my ass cheeks, he pulls me into him and I let myself go; I press my crotch against his and start swaying my hips in a coming and going motion, pressing my pussy against the bulging shape under his pants.

  I throw my arms over his shoulders and pick up the pace, grinding against him more and more furiously, allowing an out-of-control desire to take over my mind. I lose myself in his kiss, our tongues dancing around one another; right now, everything else is forgotten. Logan, Bad Boy Publishing, Grady … none of that exists right now.

  Taking one hand to Anders’ belt, I unbuckle it in a hurry; then I move down to his zipper and push it down. I feel his cock brushing against my fingers from under his boxer briefs, and then Anders does the rest; raising his hips from the couch, he pushes his pants and boxer briefs down to his knees, his cock springing free and slapping my inner thighs harshly.

  “I need you, I want you,” he tells me as he kisses me, the words slipping out from his mouth as we lock lips. I pull back from him, my heart aching from having our mouths separated, and I stand up on the couch, my feet on either side of his hips. Looking down at him, I pull my blouse over my head and throw it behind me, then taking off my sports bra.

  Anders’ eyes seem to widen as they see my hard rosy nipples, and he places his hands on my knees and slides them up my yoga pants. Curling his fingers around the hem, he starts pulling them down, revealing my small black lace thong.

  Raising one foot after the other, I allow him to undress him, and I only lower my body over his when the only piece of clothing on my body is my thong. I don’t even bother with taking it off me; I just grab the fabric, pinching it between two fingers, and flick it to the side. Then I press my drenched folds against his mast, my eyes rolling in their orbits as I feel his cock throbbing hard against my pussy.

  “I want you inside of me right now,” I tell him, panting, and raise my hips slightly. Using one hand, I grab his cock and point it up, straight at my pussy; I then lower myself so hard that there’s no other way to describe what happens but to say I’ve just impaled myself on his twelve-inch cock.

  His thickness slides fast inside of me, pushing my inner walls back harshly and completely demolishing my aching pussy. The moment his cock is sheathed inside of me, I waste no time and start riding him, using my knees and lower legs as leverage to push myself off the couch and jump up and down on his lap.

  My arms are once more thrown over his shoulders, and my head is thrown back. Violent moans are exploding in my mouth as I ride him, and the movements of my body grow wild and erratic with each passing second.

  “Fuck, that’s so good … I can’t get enough of how tight you are, Lana,” he says in a soft tone, taking his big hands to my ass and squeezing my cheeks. Then, moving as if something had possessed him, he grabs my thong and pulls it against my outer thigh. I hear a ripping sound and then the fabric simply slides off my skin.

  Grabbing my thong as he fucks me, he brings it up and presses it softly against my lips. I take a deep breath, feeling my musky scent climbing up my nostrils and leaving me completely dazed.

  “Smells good, doesn’t it?” Anders says, and then he takes my thong to his mouth and he does the same, drawing long breaths and surrendering to the maddening scent of my pussy. “Fuck, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he continues, throwing my thong to the side and grabbing my ass again.

  Maybe it was the scent of my pussy but, looking into his eyes, I see that a fire has ignited there. He starts thrusting upward, ramming his cock into my pussy with a kind of fatalistic intent; all of his inches move fast, sliding in and out of me, and I almost lose consciousness as I submit to the way he’s fucking me right now.

  My pussy tightens up around his cock and then a violent orgasm simply explodes inside me, making my bones rattle and my muscles twitch and spasm as if I’ve been hit by lightning.

  “Come for me, Lana…” he breathes softly into my ear, and that just amplifies the pleasure running through me right now. I don’t even think about what I’m doing; I just do it.

  Rolling to the side, I make his cock pop out of me and then I go on all fours on the couch; I wiggle my ass back at him as an in
vitation, and he wastes no time. He kneels behind me and, caressing my cheek with his right hand, he then lifts it off me, but that only to bring it down again. He smacks my ass hard, and he does it over and over again; he does it so hard and so repeatedly that I just know I’ll have a hard time sitting down after this.

  Not that I care.

  “Fuck me… Just… JUST FUCK ME!” I beg him, shouting at the top of my lungs.

  “You’re in charge,” I hear him laugh and then, a fraction of a second later, I feel the tip of his cock brushing against the length of my pussy. A second later and his twelve inches are once again sheathed to the hilt inside of me, their thickness demanding all the attention of my brain right now.

  I can’t think, I can’t breath; right now, I can’t do anything except surrender.

  And that’s exactly what I do: I surrender.

  Grabbing the armrest of my couch hard, so hard that my knuckles have turned white, I remain frozen in place as Anders slams his hips against my ass, fucking me so viciously that I see fireworks going off behind my shut eyelids.

  “Harder! Harder!” I beg of him and, each time I say it, he obliges. He starts fucking me so hard that I have no idea if I’ll ever be able to walk for the remainder of the day. And by God, it feels completely amazing.

  By the time I feel his cock starting to spasm inside my pussy, I’m already on the verge of exploding once again. My muscles feel as if they’re on fire, a storm raging under my skin.

  “Oh… my… GOD!” I shout, and that’s when the orgasm hits me at full force. Amplifying the whole experience, I hear Anders’ groans and, a moment later, the warmness of his semen spills inside my pussy.

  His cock pulses over and over again, and it only takes him a couple of seconds to fill me up to the brim. I feel his cum dripping down my inner thighs and onto the couch, but what the hell—taking stains off my couch is the least of my concerns right now.

  Moving slowly, Anders pulls his cock out of my pussy and, leaning in, he laces my waist with one arm; throwing himself back onto the couch, he sits down on it and pulls me after him. I let him pull me into him, and I sit across his lap, throwing one arm around his neck as I look into his eyes.

  “I love you, Anders,” I tell him, leaning in and brushing my lips against his. “Thank you.”

  “For what…?”

  “For being here, with me,” I tell him.

  “You’ll never have to thank me for that,” he says with a smile, caressing my face with the back of his hand. I just smile at him as a reply, but I know that he can read the sadness in my eyes. Despite how good this moment was, there’s a hole inside my chest this very minute. “You’ll miss him, won’t you?”

  “I…” I start by trying to make up an excuse, but I quickly give up on it and settle for the truth. “Yes. Yes, I’ll miss him… We were one, the three of us,” I tell him, all of my sadness wrapping up my words.

  “I know,” he just says, and pulls me into his embrace. “I know.”

  29

  Lana

  Fourteen.

  That’s how many days have passed since I found out that Logan signed me with Bad Boy Publishing. I still can’t believe that he did it, you know? After giving him all of my trust, he went and did something like this… I would've preferred for him to plunge a knife into my back, because this hurts more than a blade in my flesh.

  But what I can do about it? Let me answer that for you: there’s absolutely nothing I can do. Nothing but wait until Grady reveals The Virgin Market at the Romance Guild conference, presenting it as a Bad Boy Publishing production.

  From what I’ve heard, he’s backing my book with the whole might of his company. A big marketing budget, and the biggest booth and stage at the convention… He’s trying to revive Bad Boy Publishing with The Virgin Market, a book on which I poured my very soul into.

  It’s sickening, and my stomach turns whenever I think of it.

  Two.

  Only two days until the Romance Guild conference starts. Time doesn’t stop, and with each tick of the clock, I take one step further toward the inevitable.

  I still haven’t decided if I’ll be there, though. Even though Grady has snagged the rights to The Virgin Market, he doesn’t own me.

  I’ve been thinking of just skipping the whole conference. I can just stay at home with Anders, and try to forget about the whole thing. I mean, why would I want to attend something like that? God, this feels like someone has just stolen my baby from my arms, and being at the convention kinda makes it look as if I approve of the whole thing.

  But, on the other hand, that’s my book. I’m the one who wrote every single word in there and, even though Bad Boy Publishing might be my publishing house, that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be there to support my creation.

  I’m so torn.

  Three.

  That’s how many times I’ve cried over everything that happened. I’m actually surprised I’ve only cried three times; I think that this whole experience, for better or worse, is turning me into a stronger woman.

  Still, even though I’m becoming stronger, that doesn’t mean I’m strong enough. At least not yet. Forget about my book, even though it pains me to know that now I’m under the Bad Boy brand, that pales in comparison to what Logan did to me. That’s where the real pain comes from.

  He betrayed me, and for what? For money? I just can’t understand why he’d do something like that, especially when there was something magical whenever the three of us—me, him, and Anders—were together. Why would he ruin the best thing to happen in all of our lives?

  And, God, as much as I hate to say it… I miss him. I miss him so much. And I hate that I miss him. I wish I could be someone even stronger, someone that would just shrug the whole situation off and move on.

  But that’s not me.

  To make matters worse, I feel like I’ve betrayed Abby. She gave me an opportunity of a lifetime, and now my manuscript is sitting somewhere in Grady’s office instead of hers.

  Ten.

  I haven’t been to the office in ten days. I just can’t go there. To think that I may meet Abby… I shudder whenever I think of it. I just can’t look her in the eye, you know? Sure, I could try to explain to her everything that happened, but would it matter? In the end, The Virgin Marketis already in Grady’s hands and no apologies from me will ever change that.

  Sure, she told me I could try different publishers… but even though I went down that route, I never submitted anything to Bad Boy Publishing. I know everything about the convoluted story that happened between Grady and Abby, and I would've preferred for The Virgin Market to never be publish than to go with her main competitor.

  But that’s exactly what happened.

  I thought that I could trust Logan; in fact, I was certain of it, and look where that got me.

  One.

  Right now, there’s only one certainty in my life: Anders. He was the first one to come up to me, singing praises about my book, and he stuck with me ever since. Whenever I cried and sobbed, he was there. Whenever I felt angry and frustrated, he was there. And whenever I needed someone to share my happiness, he was also there.

  By God, I love him more than anything.

  Don’t hate me for saying it, though, but this love feels somewhat incomplete. Me, Logan, and Anders… There was something there, you know? Something deep, deeper than anything I’d ever found in my life. And now Logan’s gone, and we’re like a puzzle with a missing piece; we look pretty and happy but, in the end, we’re incomplete.

  It’s kinda funny, isn’t it? A few weeks ago I was just a silly girl with a silly dream. I wanted to become a writer more than anything, to see my name engraved on the covers of books all over the country. And now that I’m on the verge of achieving all that, my dream has somehow become a hollow one.

  I’ve lost one of the men I love, and that just … that just breaks my heart, okay? Because I love Anders, but I can’t stop myself from loving Logan as well. I loved what the three of
us had, and I feel that Logan stole that happiness from me.

  And all this time … he hasn’t even called me once. He just vanished into thin air. He’s probably busy in the studio, working on the cover for The Virgin Market, and that makes me feel even more awful about the whole thing.

  But it doesn't matter.

  There are only two days left until the convention starts and, then and there, this whole situation will finally come to an end.

  For better or for worse.

  30

  Lana

  I can’t believe I’m here.

  I’ve talked with Anders about whether I should show up at the convention or just skip the whole thing altogether, but he told me I should show up. And, as hard as it is for me, I know I did the right thing.

  Like Anders told me, whoever publishes my book, it’ll still be my book. And I stand for each and every word I put down on the paper. I’ve worked many hours to make The Virgin Market a reality, and I’m not giving up on my dream just because the CEO of Bad Boy Publishing managed to cheat his way into a contract with me.

  I’ll live to fight another day.

  Right now, though, I’m standing to the side of the Bad Boy Publishing stage. They’ve set up a massive apparatus, and right now Grady and a few other people I don’t know are up on the stage, getting everything ready for the big reveal.

  Everyone in the convention room has been talking about how this event is going to mark the return of Bad Boy Publishing to the big stage. I’m torn; in a way, I feel like I’ve betrayed Abby and Naughty Angel Publishing, even though I had nothing to do with all of this. On the other hand, I’d love to see my book become a success… But it just makes me feel so awful to think that might happen under the Bad Boy brand.