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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.”
I watch from the corner of my eye as the cocky bastard strolls past me on his way from the kitchen to the library. Cocking his fingers at me like guns, he winks and clicks his tongue.
“Down to just you and me, asshole,” Madden says with a smirk. “You going to just let me have her, or are you actually going to make an effort this time?”
I just sit there and watch him swagger on by like I have zero fucks to give, not willing to show my hand, to let him see that there’s no fucking way I’ll allow him be the one to get Megan.
That’s his problem. He’s too brash. I can see exactly what his game is. I know every move he’s about to make almost before he does. But he has no clue about mine. Dude just doesn’t know how to play it cool.
It’s a damn good thing I do. Because he has no idea that despite my calm exterior, Megan has actually been getting under my skin. She’s challenged my unshakable self-control. Neither she or Madden have the first clue that when I was banging those other virgins, getting off at the same time I was sending them packing, all I could think about was Megan. That getting more girls out of the house got me one step closer to her.
I knock back the rest of my drink and scrape my hand across my stubbled jaw as I glance back up at Megan’s door. I’ve watched and waited long enough. It’s time to make my move. And when I play, I always win.
Game on.
4
Madden
“You ready, Madden?” Maya asks as she adjusts her headset and lifts her hand to turn on the camera.
I flash a cocky grin. “Always, baby.”
Leaning back on the chair in the library and clasping my fingers behind my head, the grin never leaves my face. This moment is perfect. Priceless. I’m not the least bit surprised I made it to the end.
“Okay,” she says, “just talk about how you feel about it being down to you and Tristan.” Then the light comes on the camera, and I’m in my element.
I chuckle. “Ah, me and Tristan, competing for the grand prize. I couldn’t ask for more.” I give the camera my most charming smile, the one with full-on dimples. The ladies eat that shit up. “I mean, obviously Megan will choose me in the end. But it wouldn’t be any fun if I didn’t have some decent competition to keep things interesting.”
That definitely describes Tristan. Yeah, I could have sent his arrogant ass home sooner—I mean, fuck, the dude has only tasted that sweet cherry juice twice the whole time we’ve been here. Whereas I’ve bagged four virgins like it was nothing. But still, I kept him around. Because it’s true what I said—it’s only fun to compete against the best. And even though the asshole has come nowhere close to matching my game, he’s played it smart.
I fucking love going up against Tristan. Always have. And I’m going to love every fucking second of rubbing my victory in the bastard’s smug face when Megan chooses me. And she will. Make no mistake about that.
“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?”
