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I lean back on my plush, white over-sized chair and tuck my feet underneath me. “I’m in some kind of fantasy. I mean, this apartment? Insane.” I spread my arms wide for the camera.
That much is true, too. It’s so fucking over the top that I almost don’t want the show to be over. And if I’m being honest, if it wouldn’t mean I’d be sent packing—straight out of the most luxurious apartment I’ve ever set foot in—I might have already given in to temptation and let one of those two sexy men have me. It’s obvious they’ve both had their eyes on me.
I gesture for the camera at my bedroom that’s decked out in shades of gray, silver and white with a giant-ass four-poster bed that feels like a cloud covered in a feather duvet. It looks like a pillows factory, that’s how many silky pillows are scattered around the room. A waterfall trickles gently down the wall near the bed, covering what looks like a cityscape through a huge floor-to-ceiling window—but it’s all an illusion, made to look like we aren’t actually on a set in a production studio. Curtains and luxe fabrics drape over the walls and hang from the posters of the bed, candles and mood lighting are everywhere, and don’t even get me started on the private bathroom.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it. The bathtub alone is large enough to fit at least ten people. Water falls from the ceiling like rain. Then there’s the heated marble and the colored lighting. The entire apartment screams sex. And there are plenty of places to do it, too. I’ve seen plenty of that in my weeks here. Naked bodies going at it in a place that’s anything but private. And I’ve imagined more than once wha
t it would be like to put my huge bed to good use.
But no, that’s not why I’m here. I keep reminding myself I’m here for the prize money—the money I only get if I don’t give it up to one of the two sexy billionaires remaining.
“But Tristan and Madden?” I repeat, widening my eyes at the camera. “I’m so glad they’re the ones I’m here with. I really think one of them could be The One. I’m so close to having everything I ever wanted—a man who I love and who loves me. Someone who’s worthy of giving my virginity to.”
Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I grin shyly, just like a good little virgin should. The thing is, I haven’t actually been holding out all this time for the right guy. I’ve just been so busy working my ass off to keep a roof over my head while I finished my degree that I had literally zero extra time for dating, let alone sex.
I guess it’s a good thing, though, because it gave me the opportunity to get on the show. I mean, for fuck’s sake, Biggest Licker? I never in a million years would have thought I’d do something like this. But when my parents died, I was flat broke. I had to sell the home I grew up in just to pay for college. And if that’s not bad enough, right after graduation I lost my job. Auditioning for this show was a last-ditch effort to get some money, seeing as how my degree has done nothing to help me find a decent job.
But no one watching this show wants to hear that shit. So I give them what they want. “I have no idea which one I like most, though. They’re both so hot. And, oh my god, it’s so crazy that I have not only one but two billionaires that are just dying to get in my panties. It’s going to be really hard this next week with those two.”
I giggle and wink, and Maya gives me a thumbs-up from behind the camera and turns it off. That’s exactly what her boss, the producer, wants. For me to give it up—my virginity and the huge payday I’ve been holding out for. But I think Maya wants me to win. She’s pretty cool, even if she is pretty cynical about love.
I actually do believe in love, but this thing I’m doing here? It’s all about the money. There’s no way I’ll fall in love with Tristan or Madden. Or have sex with them.
“Good job, Megan,” she says, and I sit back with a sigh. “You’re so close. You’ve got this.”
I want to believe her. I am close. But I have a nagging feeling that resisting the two of them over the next week might turn out to be a lot harder than I expect.
Tristan
I take a sip of my scotch and look out the giant wall of glass across from where I sit on the huge gray sectional sofa. These set designers are fucking geniuses. If I didn’t know I wasn’t actually looking out on Manhattan from a penthouse view, I’d believe it was real. That’s how good these guys are.
I like it. I’m used to only the best. I was hesitant to even come on this show in the first place because my life is already just about perfect. Why would I need to come on a show like Biggest Licker?
But it’s been pretty fucking awesome, even if most of the other billionaires who were in the house were a bunch of horny idiots who never once conquered a virgin. I’m not surprised they’re gone. What does surprise me is that they even made it on the show in the first place.
I mean, it’s supposed to be a show about the country’s most elite billionaires. Yet none of them even come close to me. How some of those fuckers remained in the house as long as they did is beyond me. And look what happened. Between Tristan and I - we took out all the virgins in the house. No one else ever even got one. And Madden is nothing compared to me. As far as I’m concerned, none of those assholes were worth giving up a shot at the prize money for one good fuck.
The only one who held out and is still here is Megan. I smile as I think about her. That girl is something else. She resisted all the billionaires so far, including me. But I’m determined to change that. I will have her. Me. Not Madden.
Those long, auburn waves that fall down to her waist, dark eyes that suck you right in. A sexy as fuck, tight little body that I can just imagine will feel exquisite under my hands. I’m hard just thinking about what it will be like to finally get inside her.
It’s only a matter of time. I’ve had my sights set on her from the very beginning. Since the first day in the house. But I’ve played my game, used my impeccable self-control to bide my time and wait for the perfect moment to make my move. It’s all about timing. Those jokers who came in here letting their cocks do all the thinking are out on their asses for a reason.
No subtlety. No finesse. Just walking around ready to stick their dicks anywhere they can.
I roll my eyes. It’s no wonder I’m one of the last remaining billionaires. Taking another sip of my Scotch, I think about Madden and a smirk lifts the corner of my mouth. We go way back—we attended the same prep school, always had a friendly competition going on, whether it was grades, sports, or nailing a chick first.
He thinks he’s got it cornered when it comes to this game. He has no clue. I know his tricks. He plays dirty. He’s scrappy. Willing to do whatever it takes to win.
Not that I won’t pull out all the stops, but I’m smart about it. I play to win, and I’ve got this one in the bag. Madden is too much of a playboy. Too flashy. He doesn’t know how to sit back and wait for the right moment to make a move. Just like how he operates in the business arena. He doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to Megan.
I sigh and lean my head back, staring up at the high ceilings toward the balcony that overlooks the living area, and I glance toward Megan’s door. She’s in there giving her confessional right now. Telling the world what it feels like to be the last virgin in the house—all alone with me and Madden.
I grin. She’s played a tough game, tossing off all of Madden’s and my efforts to win her over. I wonder if she can see as clearly as I can that she deserves better than Madden. She deserves to be treated like the intriguing woman I see when I look at her. I don’t know why she’s even on this show when it’s nothing but empty-headed bimbos and horny asshole billionaires.
She’s nothing like any of those other girls. I knocked two of the virgins out myself with hardly any effort. It was almost too easy. But Megan is a challenge. And I’m up for it. Now that it’s just me and Madden left, it’s time to up my game.
“Madden,” the disembodied voice of the production assistant, Maya, calls through the house’s speaker system. “Please go to the library.”
