And our lips met in another kiss as our bodies began the dance of love. Because I was getting married to the President, my lover. He’s handsome, tall, charismatic, with a body to die for, and an unerring sense of what’s important. He knows that looking for happiness is important, and finding it isn’t an easy job. And he knows that once you’ve found it, to hold on tight and never let it go. Because love and happiness are what I’ve found with my president … and despite our untraditional beginnings, we’ll always be together from here on out.
THE END
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All the Best Men
~An MFMM Ménage Romance~
© 2017
By Cassandra Dee
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© 2017 Cassandra Dee
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author's imagination.
Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters are represented as 18 or over.
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DEDICATION
To all the dirty girls who dream in threes.
This book’s for you!
ABOUT THIS BOOK
ALL THE BEST MEN: An MFMM Ménage Romance
I went to a wedding and came out with not one hot guy, but three.
They say weddings are the best places to meet someone.
Yeah, right.
In my putrid green bridesmaid dress, I just wanted to disappear.
But I saw the best man looking at me.
And then his friend looked too.
And then his friend as well.
Was I crazy?
Was I going nuts?
But it was true. Mason, Kane and Tyler were definitely interested, sending hot vibes my way.
But it’s wrong.
This is a wedding for crying out loud.
I’m supposed to be the maid of honor with flowers in my hair, projecting innocence and purity.
Because this is dirty and nasty, taboo as hell.
But I want it.
Bad.
Hot and hungry.
Bent over and screaming.
And the three best men?
Well they’re only too happy to do the honors …
CHAPTER ONE
Katie
“I need something blue to wear. Someone give me something blue nowwwww!”
Elaine’s howls rang through the church belfry. Because for the better part of an hour, my best friend had been ranting and raving like a lunatic on steroids.
“Nowwww!” she screeched again, causing a couple of us to shield our ears with hurried hands. “Noooowwww!”
I get that brides want everything to be perfect on their wedding day. But this was taking Bridezilla to a new level. Elaine’s tantrum had everyone terrorized, including both her grandmas and the lone cat cowering under a wooden bench.
“Damnit!” she shrieked again, face purple with rage. I swear, my friend was going to have a stroke, and then it’d be a real disaster for sure. But Elaine couldn’t be stopped. She rushed around furiously, ransacking the small room, throwing things this way and that.
“Nowwww!” she screeched again, the cords in her neck standing out unattractively. “Blue, I swear, it needs to be blue!”
I ran forwards then.
“Elaine, it’s just a saying,” I said hurriedly, one hand on her arm. “Don’t worry about it, it’s just a metaphor.”
Because what could we do? It was literally minutes until the ceremony, and somehow this small detail had slipped. But trust Elaine to overreact because she whipped her head from right to left, almost dislodging the tiara on her head.
“No!” she shrieked. “I can’t get married unless I have something blue. Haven’t you heard the old saying? Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. I have everything but the blue item. If I don’t have it, then I’m gonna be cursed forever! We might as well get divorced nowwwww!” she wailed again, face crumpling into an ugly mask.
Oh god, snot was beginning to come out of that perfect ski-slope nose, runny yellow goopy stuff. So thinking on the fly, I did the only thing that came to mind.
“Here,” I said hurriedly, reaching down to tear a strip from the bottom of my dress. Thank god this thing was almost floor length. Hopefully no one would notice that it was now ragged at the hem. “You can use this,” I said holding up the material.
But it just made things worse. Because Elaine lunged at me then, eyes wild, nails ready to scratch.
“Are you crazy Katie?” she shrieked. “That’s green, not blue!”
I ducked out of the way, saving my own life. Anyone else would have quit right about now. But like a trooper, I plowed on ahead.
“Here,” I said hurriedly, fumbling for a blue magic marker that just happened to be lying on a nearby table. Uncapping the felt pen, I colored the strip of green silk until it was blue in the center. It was ugly for sure, a first-grader could have done better, but hey, difficult circumstances call for ingenious solutions, and this was my MacGyver attempt.
“Here,” I pushed the strip of silk towards her. “It’s blue now.”
Elaine took it, eyeing the ribbon suspiciously.
“This is still green,” she said imperiously, sniffing. “I can’t use it.”
Exasperated, I grabbed the material from her again, coloring furiously once more so that it was definitely blue. Sad and limp-looking yes, but still better than nothing.
“Here,” I said as calmly as possible, pushing it into her hands. “This is blue.”
Elaine’s chin began to wobble.
“Bu- but how am I going to wear it?” cried Elaine tearfully. “I’m decked out to the nines in my wedding gown, how am I gonna wear this?”
A tear perched precariously on the edge of her black lashes. Oh god, oh god, disaster was coming. Because Elaine had on globs of mascara, almost like spiders around her eyes. And if she cried, black streaks were gonna run down her face, making her look like a witchy ghoul. We’d really be done for then.
And like a nightmare, the wedding march started outside, organ strains rising melodiously from behind the closed church doors. Uh oh. Time to pull out all the stops and get this show on the road.
In a flash, I was down on my knees next to Elaine, which was no easy feat given my curvy form and the puke-green bridesmaid dress that poufed everywhere.
“Here,” I said urgently. “I’ll tie it around your leg. No one will see, and no one has to see. As long as you have something blue on, you’re gonna be fine.”
With that, the bluish-green strip of silk was fastened around Elaine’s thigh with a jerk, the knot tied tight. I got up again, brushing curls out of my face, heaving and panting from stress.
“Elaine,” I said seriously, taking those narrow shoulders between my hands and staring my friend in the eye. “It’s fine. You can do it. Everything’s perfect.”
And with that, my best friend took a long, slow, snuffly breath.
“I guess so,” she murmured, blinking back tears. “I guess so.�
�
“Go!” I said, physically turning her shoulders so that she faced the big doors. “We’re gonna walk out after you. Go!”
And with that the doors swung open, revealing a rapturous crowd. Like in a movie, a ray of sunlight streamed from the heavens, hitting Elaine’s blonde head and making her glow. And what do you know, but my friend beamed then, as beautiful as a fairy princess.
Even for me, it was hard to believe that a mere five seconds earlier, she’d been screaming and cursing like a sailor, practically purple with rage.
But all’s well that ends well, and relieved, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Thank god. An epic disaster averted, and mentally, I made note to award myself with an extra large slice of cake later.
But suddenly Mary, the wedding coordinator turned to me, hand gestures frantic.
“Ready,” she mouthed. “Three, two, one …” and then she pointed straight at me like a movie director. It was my turn.
The timing couldn’t have been worse. Not only was I hassled and annoyed, panting and sweaty, but I had on a puke-green bridesmaid dress with an ugly tear at the bottom. To add to my misery, Elaine had picked something with ruffles. Not just a discreet ruffle here, or a discreet ruffle there. But literally ten tiers of ruffles, making me look like the big green monster from Hell.
But there were no options. It was Elaine’s big day, and when she’d presented me with the dress, it had been all I could do to smile weakly and say, “Thanks.”
“You’re gonna look beautiful!” Elaine cooed, eyeing the gown and admiring her own taste. “Absolutely ravishing.”
I swallowed hard. Was my friend for real? Because anyone with eyes could tell that even a professional model would look bad in this thing. But brides often pick ugly bridesmaids dresses so they look better by comparison. Swallowing hard, I could only manage another weak, “Thanks,” before taking a swig of my drink.
But now the moment was here. It was time to parade down the aisle, all eyes on me in this massive glob of green. Oh, and the hem had a million loose threads. If I was lucky, I wouldn’t trip and land flat on my face. The perfect ending to this debacle.
Suddenly the organ music swelled loudly again, Mary’s hand gestures growing ever more frantic. So smacking a smile on my face, I tried to look thrilled, taking one step forwards. There was no gasp of awe, no delighted smiles when the guests saw me. If anything, there were only shocked stares instead.
Because yeah, I’m a big girl. I’m curvy everywhere, and the thing about these ruffles were they were in all the wrong spots. The ones at my bust made my Double Ds seem even bigger, and the ones at my hips only emphasized my sassy figure. I tried to walk gracefully, but the ruffles on my ass wiggled and swayed like a showgirl’s feathers.
Smiling frozenly, I placed one foot in front of the other, mentally telling myself to move forwards. Keep going, keep going, the voice in my head urged. Almost there.
And finally, I was at the end of the aisle. The entire walk, my eyes faced forward, seeing but not seeing, almost like headlights frozen in place. But now I had to turn left, and my head jerked slightly as I got my bearings. Smile. Keep smiling.
But as my eyes focused, suddenly the world was upended. Because there was Bobby, the groom, standing there sweating bullets. I felt sorry for the poor guy, his suit looked too tight on that portly figure, and clearly, the A/C in the church wasn’t enough to keep him cool. There were growing wet patches under his arms, showing through his wedding suit.
But it was the men standing next to him that made my breath catch, insides going warm and loose. Because there were three gorgeous, dark-haired men lined up next to the groom. Massive with incredible builds, they took me in with bright blue eyes, knowing smiles curving those lips.
Who were these guys? Why hadn’t I seen them before? Suddenly it came rushing back. That’s right, these were Bobby’s friends from childhood, three alpha males allegedly so successful that they couldn’t leave their fancy careers in New York until the last minute. So they’d missed the pre-wedding dinner last night, as well as the ceremony rehearsal this afternoon.
But wow, what an introduction. Because they were devastatingly gorgeous. No one was going to look at me. No one was going to notice my ripped dress or the way that I was sweating slightly. In fact, no one was even going to notice Elaine for that matter, these guys were that magnetic, bright blue eyes like lasers.
But my body jerked into motion once again. If I’d been self-conscious before, I was even more self-conscious now. With slow steps, I walked stiffly to the far edge of the altar, positioning myself next to the other bridesmaids. Oh my god, oh my god. Hopefully, my performance hadn’t been too robotic and stilted.
But as the minister began to drone, my eyes slid across by themselves, going further and further until they landed on the three groomsmen again. And it was then that I gasped, big boobies rising visibly. Because the three men were looking at me, not even pretending to pay attention to the ceremony. I guess the audience couldn’t tell, our backs were turned. And clearly Elaine and Bobby were in their own world right now, eyes fixed on the minister.
But I could tell. I could feel how those blue eyes ate up my figure, appreciating the expanse of white flesh at my décolletage. I could feel their gazes all over my bottom, leaving trails of fire, making me go deliciously hot. And as I stared back, one of them did something so wrong, so randy, that I shuddered, pussy sizzling with anticipation.
His arm didn’t move an inch. But a male hand went down, down, down until it was right in front of that huge bulge. And my eyes popped then. Because the tent in his pants was enormous, like a giant anaconda lying in wait. And subtly, very subtly, those thick, blunt fingers caressed the snake, my eyes gong wide as the hardness twitched visibly, growing and straining beneath the grey suit pants.
Oh my god, oh my god! We were literally in church, standing in front of a crowd of people. In fact, the minister’s words were droning on about peace and love and prosperity for the married couple, while this groomsman teased, stroking his boner and making me wet.
I should have been disgusted. I should have turned away, jerking my chin like I was too good for this depravity. But instead, a blush crept over my cheeks and I smiled at the three men. That’s right, I smiled sweetly and slowly, my tongue slipping out to run over glossy pink lips.
It wouldn’t have looked like anything if you saw. Merely a bridesmaid feeling a little hot, licking her lips as she watched the ceremony from the sidelines. But the three men knew. They knew I liked being here, with them … and that I wanted much, much more.
CHAPTER TWO
Tyler
Goddamn. This little backwater town was a piece of shit. Knox, Tennessee? Where the fuck was that? Where the fuck was Tennessee for crying out loud? Being from New York City, no place exists for us but Manhattan, the island at the center of the world. It’s sad but true. So to be dragged out here on a beautiful weekend was a major sacrifice.
But fine. It’s Bobby’s big day. And since we’ve been buds from childhood, me, Kane and Mason made the trip. We didn’t sit in business class. Not even first class. Because we came by fucking private jet. Hell yeah, the plane is something we bought not so long ago. And why not? It saves time and there was an aviation sale last year. No big deal.
But shit, Bumfuck USA was off to a bad start. There wasn’t even a runway big enough for our plane, can you believe it? So we had to do an emergency landing on a grassy field nearby, the G-6 descending from the heavens like an avenging angel, ominous and huge, its wings looming shadows.
But we’re here now, lined up stiff at the front of the church. Bobby, my friend, this better be worth it.
Because the four of us have been pals since childhood, and Bobby has always been the nicest, most laid-back guy around. Chubby with big, thick glasses, sure, but sometimes you need that. You can’t all be hoods and gangstas, every clique’s gotta have its Mr. Magoo. So Bobby is my bro and now, holy shit, it’s his wedding day.
&n
bsp; Because I hate weddings. A root canal or some mindless meeting would be better than a wedding. Girls, they get ideas at these things. It’s like they catch fever or something. Suddenly, women that were once rational and happy go insane, spouting talk about commitments. Shit. One woman, a couple weddings back even stroked my hand while murmuring, “Wouldn’t it be nice if this was us?”
Holy fuck. No thanks. And I don’t mean “No thanks, maybe sometime in the future.” I mean, “No thanks, not ever.” Because why the fuck would I get married? There’s too much to do in life, a variety of pussy to taste. So why would I limit myself to just one?
And it gets worse. The last girl I made the mistake of taking to a wedding got the crazy idea that somehow yours truly was ready to put a ring on it. You can bet she got a ‘Dear John’ email the next day. Or in her case, ‘Dear Jane,’ plus a six figure emerald necklace. That seemed to put a lid on it. The ladies know that the jewelry train only runs if they shut the fuck up and put their feelings on the back burner.
So yeah, I’ve been in the hot seat a couple times now, the targets of several scheming women. But I’ve learned to deal, even to turn it to my advantage. After all, sitting on top of a giant global conglomerate, you learn how to manage these things.
So yeah, I use the situation to get what I want. And that’s sex. There’s mad hormones in the air at these things, and some girls, instead of wanting to get hitched, turn into crazed sex friends, ready to be taken anytime, anywhere. Oh yeah, some figure they need to “catch up” to their married friends, or “live it up” somehow, throwing themselves at me like a bunch of desperately flopping fish.
The President and the Starlet: A Forbidden Romance Page 8
