36 Inches: A MFMM Romantic Comedy

by Alexis Angel

  “Talk about how you now hold the record for evicting the most girls on the show,” Maya says. I know that part will be edited out before the episode airs, so I don’t bother trying to hide the snort that comes out at her phrasing.

  Evicting. Yeah. That’s what Maya likes to call it. What it actually means is that I got more girls to give it up than anyone else in the history of the show. That’s right. The ladies just can’t resist me. Even when it means throwing away a chance at more money than any of them have probably ever seen.

  Yep. I’m that good. That’s how much they beg for my cock. Fucking desperate for it. I don’t even feel bad about being the reason they got kicked out of the house.

  Maybe that makes me an arrogant bastard, but so what? There’s a reason I have a reputation as the baddest billionaire playboy this country has ever seen. It’s almost become too easy.

  Which is why I’m looking forward to what comes next. I enjoy a challenge in the bedroom just as much as in the boardroom, and Megan is the perfect challenge. She’s played hard-to-get all this time. And now she’s mine. Well, she will be soon enough.

  I shrug and smirk at the camera, just like Maya wants. It’s not like I have to do anything but be myself. “So, yeah. I’ve evicted four other girls so far—the most ever. What did you expect? I certainly didn’t want to disappoint. I have a reputation to uphold and all.” A suggestive wink. A shit-eating grin. The dimples again. They’re going to fucking love this shit. Do I make good TV or what?

  “Tristan got two,” I continue. “Who do you think Megan will choose?” I spread my arms wide like there’s no question. “Does Megan want someone like him or someone like me, who obviously knows what he’s doing?”

  I say it like the answer is obvious. It is, right? But then Maya’s eyebrows draw together and she leads me down the path that she wants me to go in this confessional with her next question.

  “But how do you think Megan will feel about the fact that you’ve slept with four other girls on the show?” she asks.

  What the fuck? Maya isn’t typically so heavy-handed with these interviews. She just lets them play out naturally. I’m starting to wonder if she’s got her own agenda.

  I think for a minute, trying to phrase my answer like I wasn’t just coached on what to talk about.

  “Megan…” I muse, a genuine smile on my face this time. Because what’s not to love about her? Megan is fucking sexy. I don’t know how she’s made it this long and is still a virgin.

  “No question, Megan is definitely the one who should have made it to the end. I couldn’t be happier.” I lean forward, resting my arms on my knees and looking at the camera like I’m trying to be all earnest and shit. “Truth be told, I’ve had my eye on her from day one. She’s definitely going to make me work for it. I like that. These other girls? Just distractions to get me further along so I could find the one I really want. Megan.”

  Maya’s eyes soften at my words, and I realize I’ve got a sappy as fuck smile on my face. Jesus. What the fuck is that about? It must just be that I actually like Megan. As a person. She’s smart. She’s fun. And yeah, I plan on winning this game and making her first fuck the best she’ll ever have.

  But I also plan on fully enjoying every minute of it and making sure she does, too. It may be a game, but there’s something to be said about finding the value in every experience. I want that for her.

  So I’m going to do this right. There’s no fun in winning if you cheat. When I get Megan, it will be because I’ve earned her, despite what Tristan might think. Yeah, I can be ruthless when it comes to business, but I always play fair.

  I sit back and make sure my playboy persona is firmly back in place as I continue speaking to the camera. No more of that sappy bullshit. “Just wait. All that’s left is for Megan to realize I’m the one. And mark my words.” Smirk. Wink. “She will.”

  Megan

  Tristan and Madden hold their champagne glasses up in the air, and I grab mine as well, clinking it against theirs as we toast our success in making it to the Final Three. We’re celebrating with a candlelit dinner in the ornate dining room of the apartment. The entire place smells like roses thanks to the dozens of arrangements scattered around the room.

  “No one deserves it more than you, Megan,” Tristan says, leaning in and giving me a smoldering look. The same one that always makes my pulse beat a little faster when he looks at me like that with those intense dark eyes. The flickering candlelight reflects off his face, making him appear even more dark and alluring.

  “The man speaks the truth,” Madden chimes in, clapping Tristan on the back and flashing that dimpled smile that makes it hard for me to focus. His blue eyes twinkle with the exuberance that’s never far away, seemingly enjoying this moment to the max, just like he does with every situation I’ve seen him in.

  I take a sip of my champagne as I glance back and forth at them. It’s a good thing I’m not actually going to have to choose between these two—if I can hold out until the end, that is—because I don’t know how I could. They’re so very different, but both so perfect in their own ways.

  Setting his glass aside, Tristan plucks one of the roses from the vase in the center of the table and trails it across my shoulder and down my arm, sending a shiver through my body.

  “You’re gorgeous. You know that?” he murmurs, leaning in close, his low voice drawing my gaze back to those captivating eyes.

  Unable to stop it, I feel a blush steal across my cheeks. The way he’s looking at me, like he’s starving and I’m his favorite meal, makes my breath come faster. He lifts the rose to my face and brushes it lightly across my lips, making them part on a soft sigh.

  Oh my god, Tristan is too much. Somehow, at the same time I want to both back away from him and drag him closer and replace that rose with his mouth.

  “Gorgeous doesn’t begin to cut it, asshole,” Madden says, snatching the rose from Tristan and running it down my throat, continuing the path until the silky petals are teasing the tops of my breasts that are now practically heaving. I’m pretty sure my panties are totally soaked, too.

  Madden leans in, biting the tip of his tongue as his eyes follow the rose, then snap back up to my face. He waggles his eyebrows and winks. “I’d say hot as fuck is a better description.”

  I laugh. He’s just as over the top as Tristan is intense.

  “Dessert?” Tristan asks, lifting a bite of decadent cheesecake to my lips.

  My eyes flick back to him, my lips parting involuntarily as I get sucked back into his gaze. I watch him as my mouth closes over the fork. His desire is evident in the way he watches me. I feel my pussy clench in response, and a moan escapes my mouth as the dessert practically melts on my tongue.

  One side of Tristan’s mouth quirks up in a smile so seductive I’m starting to forget I need to watch myself.

  Madden reaches up and brushes a finger across my lips. “I bet that tastes good.” The gleam in his eyes makes it clear that he isn’t talking about the cheesecake at all. Yeah. I’m going to need to change my panties.

  Goddamn. If these two are going to up their game like this, I’m going to have to build up my defenses a bit more. Another week of this might have me begging for them to take me—at the same fucking time.

  No bueno. I need to take over the reins here and get back in control. This is my game to win.

  “So,” I say, biting my lip as I glance back and forth between the two of them, “I have an idea. I think it’s time the three of us play a game and get a bit more personal. Who wants to play?”

  The smiles they give me tells me they have no clue what I’m thinking.

  “I’m game,” Madden says. “Always.”

  “Bring it,” Tristan says, narrowing his eyes at Madden.

  Well, well. The dick measuring contest has already begun, and I haven’t even started.

  I grin. “Stand up and take your shirts off.”

  I can tell they’re totally thrown off by that. Tristan blinks
for a minute, then Madden lets out a whoop.

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” He stands up and unbuttons his elegant Hermes dress shirt, flashing me his trademark cocky grin. “I sure have nothing to hide.”

  Tristan scoffs. “Well, neither do I.” Reaching for his own buttons, he stands and strips as well.

  Hell fucking yeah.

  These two are so ripped it’s ridiculous. Thick, sinewy muscle and taut, tanned skin is on full display, and I realize I can have some fun here. I may be hanging on to my v-card with a death grip, but that doesn’t mean I can’t look all I want. Hell, there’s nothing to say I can’t touch either. I’ve been a good girl for weeks and weeks. Resisted all temptation, even in the face of gorgeous men competing to make me feel good.

  I totally deserve this. Tristan and Madden are probably the most alpha males we had in the house, yet right now they both have one goal—to win me. Which means they’re a little at my mercy.

  I grin as I stand up and walk around them slowly, allowing myself to really look at them. I take my time doing it, and when my eyes drop down, it’s obvious that my perusal has them both rock hard.

  My breath hitches in response to seeing those bulges, and I swallow hard.

  “So, this game?” I say, stopping in front of Madden first since he was so eager to strip down. I trail my fingers over his wide, strong shoulders and down his broad chest. It’s covered in a black tribal tattoo that spreads across and winds down his arms. I’ve seen it plenty of times already—out by the pool, when he works out, or when he walks around without a shirt just for the hell of it. But seeing him this close, touching him, does something to me. My tongue darts out involuntarily to moisten my lips, and my eyes dart up to Madden’s. He gives me a knowing smirk.

  Letting my fingers explore more of him, I run them down his stomach, tracing the ridges of his cut abs, stopping just above his belt, my hands hovering as I continue my tease. “If you’re both wanting to be the one who is so irresistible I can’t help giving it up, I think I need to know what we’re working with.”

  Madden chuckles and holds his arms out to the side. “I’m at your disposal, sexy lady.”

  I turn to Tristan, letting my fingers linger and brush across Madden’s smooth, hot skin as I move away. I arch a brow at him. “And you?”

  Where Madden was all flirty and teasing, Tristan is blazing and fierce. Dominating. In control, even as I attempt to exert my own power. “Whatever you want, princess,” he says, staring at me, almost daring me. “But don’t start something you can’t finish.”

  I reach for him, tentatively, testing. When my hands land on his chest, my pulse kicks into overdrive. He’s just as sculpted as Madden, but in a less in-your-face way. Lean and strong. Every inch of him built for efficient power. Madden is all bulk and brawn, but Tristan is hard and lethal. I have no idea what I like more.

  They’re both so fucking sexy that I wonder if I might come just from touching them.

  Tristan arches a brow as if he’s daring me to do more. So I do. I grab his belt and unfasten it, keeping my eyes on his the whole time, fighting to maintain the illusion of control. Not wanting him to see that my fingers are practically shaking as they come dangerously close to his hard cock. Or that I’m torn between running back to the safety of my room and pulling his cock out right fucking now.

  When his pants are unbuttoned and unzipped, I step back. “Take them off.”

  Madden clicks his tongue, and I look over to find him still smirking, taunting me as he glances down at his own straining cock and points his hands down in a V to frame himself. “Help a man out here, Megan. You wouldn’t want me feeling slighted would you?”

  I laugh. “There’s not a damn thing about you that I’d call slight, Madden.”

  “Damn straight.”

  I get to work on ridding Madden of his belt, then he takes it a step further, pushing his boxer briefs down along with his pants, his cock springing free.

  Holy shit. Yeah, nothing slight about him. He is fucking huge. Thick and pulsing, I wonder how it could even fit inside me—if sex were an option. Which it’s not. Without realizing what I’m doing, I lick my lips until Madden chuckles, calling my attention to it.

  “Dessert?” he says with a wink.

  I glance back at Tristan, my face flaming, but that doesn’t make me any more comfortable. Not to be outdone, Tristan has already rid himself of the rest of his clothes, too. And, oh my god, he’s just as big. Long and straight, I somehow know he would hit every spot just right.

  Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed by the thoughts and sensations taking over my body, making me want to lose control and take both these men in my hands, my mouth, my pussy. Everywhere.

  I back up, my eyes darting wildly between them. I shake my head. This little game was a mistake. Because as much as I want this right now, I can’t have it. Before I can do something I’ll regret, I spin on my heel and race up the stairs, heading for the safety of my room.

  Tristan

  I pace my room, unspent sexual energy making me so on edge I feel like I’m about to lose it.

  Goddammit. Get yourself under control, Tristan.

  I rake my hands through my hair. Megan has me so fucking hard right now I think I might explode. Her perfect little body, her hungry eyes, her curious hands.

  Fuck.

  My cock throbs with the memory of the way she took me in, her eyes exploring every inch of me before she let her fingers start to do the same. She’s driving me crazy. I’ve wanted her from the beginning. But now? Now I know I have to have her.

  I can’t believe I let her talk me into stripping. Let her just take control like that. I’m the one in control. Always. But something about her makes that control balance on a precarious edge. I’m starting to think it won’t take much for it to tip.

  Right now I’d be willing to do just about anything to have her here in my room with me. In my bed. Her hands on me like they were just five minutes ago.

  She wanted to touch my cock. I could see it in her eyes. The indecision. Caution warring with desire. With need.

  My whole body is still hot from where she ran her hands along my skin. Fucking Madden. If he hadn’t been there just now, I know I could have had her. It wouldn’t have taken much to make her give in to me. It was written all over her face.

  He has to go. It’s that simple. Always jumping in with some smartass remark or ridiculous joke. If he hadn’t been all ‘Help a man out, Megan,’ I know she would have reached right into my pants and wrapped those delicate fingers around my dick.

  I groan at the thought. Fucking Madden, I think again. But I don’t want to think about him right now. I want to think about Megan.

  That sexy mouth, her pink tongue darting out to lick her lips, the way her tits rose and fell with each breath, her eyes clouded with lust.

  I will have her. I’ll win her over. There’s no way I’ll let that fucker have her. He’ll see soon enough. Megan is mine.

  Stopping in the center of my room, my eyes fall on my laptop and an idea somehow makes its way through my sex-clouded brain.

  I need to know more about her. Find out about her background. All along I’ve wondered why she was here. Why she was participating in a reality show with those other girls who were nothing like her. There’s something there, but I can’t quite put my finger on what it might be.

  I have a feeling there’s more to her than meets the eye. She might be a virgin, but there’s more to that story, too. Some of the girls that were here were virgins because of the way they grew up, repressing their sexuality until they were pushed past the breaking point, past their limits. Until their inner desires took over and made them give in to carnal pleasure. But Megan…

  I could see the way she wanted it. The way she wanted to play the game with us. The way she wanted to touch and explore. How excited she was when she saw our cocks. She isn’t some repressed virgin, that much is clear.

  I need to dig into her background. Find out more about
her. It’s not prying. It’s smart. If I want to win her over, I need to go in prepared.

  But not right now. With Megan holed up in her room—probably for the rest of the night—I have plenty of time to do some research.

  Right now I have a much bigger problem to take care of. And it looks like I’ll be taking it into my own hands, literally.

  Stalking toward the bathroom, I turn the shower on hot and step inside, letting the water from the multi-jet system pelt down on my overheated skin. Bracing one hand on the marble wall as steam fills the room, I grip the base of my cock.

  My head drops down and my eyes close as I let out a low groan. I picture Megan in my mind, the way she looked greedily at my cock. The way her hand twitched as it hovered inches from it.

  Fuck. I pump my fist up and down my shaft, increasing the pressure as I grow even harder, throbbing and heavy with need.

  I picture her tongue darting out again, then I imagine her dropping to her knees in front of me, right there in the dining room. Opening those soft pink lips and taking my cock into her hot mouth, wrapping her lips around it and sucking me off.

  A tingle begins at the base of my spine, and my balls tighten. It doesn’t take much. I’m that fucking turned on just by the idea of coming down her throat. A second later I’m groaning as hot jets of cum shoot out, over and over and over.

  I lean both hands on the wall as I catch my breath. Megan has gotten under my skin for sure. I can have any girl I want, anytime I want. That’s not being cocky—it’s just the way it is. Yet Megan has me beating off in the shower because I can’t have her. It only makes me want her more. Now I’m even more determined that she’ll be mine before the end of the week.

  Madden

  I can’t wipe the grin off my face the entire way to my bedroom. Shutting the door behind me, I let out a laugh as I grip my cock in my fist. Precum is dripping from the tip, and I immediately start pumping my shaft. I wonder if Tristan and Megan are both in their rooms getting themselves off, too.