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“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.
