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Nadia: To those of you out there who love Biggest Licker and watch it on the computer at work and during the day and have the merchandise, we are also now offering limited edition DVDs of what America is calling “The Date”.
Chase: The best part is the sex.
Nadia: Right. You can view the sexcapades in multiple angles and zoom into various parts for better clarity and maximum viewing pleasure. All this is captured in high definition to provide you the best experience possible.
Chase: Exactly what you need to get all hot and bothered till the next episode of…
Voiceover: Biggest Licker!!!!!
Megan
By ten the next morning, we’re all back on the private jet, flying back to New York City and the Biggest Licker house. I can’t believe my dates with Tristan and Madden are already over.
In spite of the fact that I’m no clearer on how I feel than I was last night, I think it might have been the best twenty-four hours of my life.
Maya looks over at me from the seat across the plane where she’s sipping a mimosa. She frowns and furrows her brow, mouthing, what’s wrong. I realize I’m frowning, too, and I try to smile. After all, what do I have to be upset about, really? I’m on a fucking private jet with two of the world’s sexiest billionaires, inching closer to a luxury apartment and cash prize with every second that passes.
I lean back, sipping my own mimosa, and glance to either side of me. Tristan and Madden are flanking me on the loveseat. It’s kind of a tight squeeze, but now that the individual dates are over neither is willing to leave my side.
It’s almost comical. Who wouldn’t love to be in my shoes right now?
Tristan takes my mimosa and refills it, handing it back with a smile.
“Maybe you should ask her first, dude, before you give her another,” Madden growls, a scowl on his face. “You trying to get her drunk first thing in the morning?”
My eyebrows fly up, and I rest a hand on his thigh. “I did want another.” Then, to Tristan: “Thank you.” I smile at both men, but now Tristan is scowling just as hard at Madden.
“What the fuck, man? I was just being a gentleman. Something you obviously don’t have the first clue about.” His jaw ticks, and I want to touch him, to let him know it’s fine.
Since one hand is holding my glass, I start to take my hand from Madden’s thigh and reach for Tristan’s arm, but Madden wraps his fingers around my wrist before I get very far. “Don’t let him manipulate you, Megan. He just wants to break down your defenses so you’ll be easier. He doesn’t have the game to get you without the help.”
My eyes widen and jaw drops. “Madden, why would you—”
Tristan slams his glass down, making me jump. “You want to go there, Madden? Okay. Let’s talk about manipulation for a minute. How about what tricks you used to get in all those other girls’ pants? You’re the fucking master manipulator.”
What the hell is going on? It’s like a pissing contest, but on steroids. I’ve never seen either of them like this.
“Tristan, he’s just saying—”
Madden leans over me and points his finger right in Tristan’s face. “Like you’re any better? I didn’t see you saying no to any of them either. In fact, I’d put money on it that you were more of a manipulator than I was.”
Tristan slaps his hand away, his face reddening with fury. “Tell me, Megan,” he says, though he doesn’t even look at me, his angry gaze trained on Madden, “did he pull out all the stops last night? Play nice for you? Or did he just try to overwhelm you with his fucking overkill charming playboy act until you were ready to drop your panties for him?”
Madden laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “There was no act involved, asshole, but you better believe she was so fucking wet for me that—”
“Madden!” I interrupt, mortified. Oh my god, I don’t think I’ve ever been this humiliated. Or this angry.
Tristan scoffs. “Don’t flatter yourself, dickhead. I’m sure it was just because she was still soaked from the way I made her come.”
I gasp and cover my eyes with my hands. “Stop it! Both of you. Please!”
But it’s like they can’t hear me. They both rise to their feet, and I look up. They’re posturing like fucking peacocks. Each trying to show up the other.
Madden pokes a finger in Tristan’s chest. “You and your fucking superiority complex. Like you’re a motherfucking god. Untouchable. I’ve got news for you, dude. You’re just a cocky asshole who gets off on pushing other people around.”
Tristan steps forward, swatting Madden’s hand away and getting right in his face. “I wouldn’t go there if I were you. Who’s the one who thinks he’s God’s gift to women? You’ve stuck your dick in so many sluts that I can’t even—”
Madden’s fists clench, and I know before he even rears back that this is about to come to blows.
