Boardroom Bride: A Fake Fiance Secret Pregnancy Romance

by Alexis Angel

  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.”

  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.

  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?”

  I say it like the answer is obvious. It is, right? But then Maya’s eyebrows draw together and she leads me down the path that she wants me to go in this confessional with her next question.

  “But how do you think Megan will feel about the fact that you’ve slept with four other girls on the show?” she asks.

  What the fuck? Maya isn’t typically so heavy-handed with these interviews. She just lets them play out naturally. I’m starting to wonder if she’s got her own agenda.

  I think for a minute, trying to phrase my answer like I wasn’t just coached on what to talk about.

  “Megan…” I muse, a genuine smile on my face this time. Because what’s not to love about her? Megan is fucking sexy. I don’t know how she’s made it this long and is still a virgin.

  “No question, Megan is definitely the one who should have made it to the end. I couldn’t be happier.” I lean forward, resting my arms on my knees and looking at the camera like I’m trying to be all earnest and shit. “Truth be told, I’ve had my eye on her from day one. She’s definitely going to make me work for it. I like that. These other girls? Just distractions to get me further along so I could find the one I really want. Megan.”

  Maya’s eyes soften at my words, and I realize I’ve got a sappy as fuck smile on my face. Jesus. What the fuck is that about? It must just be that I actually like Megan. As a person. She’s smart. She’s fun. And yeah, I plan on winning this game and making her first fuck the best she’ll ever have.

  But I also plan on fully enjoying every minute of it and making sure she does, too. It may be a game, but there’s something to be said about finding the value in every experience. I want that for her.

  So I’m going to do this right. There’s no fun in winning if you cheat. When I get Megan, it will be because I’ve earned her, despite what Tristan might think. Yeah, I can be ruthless when it comes to business, but I always play fair.

  I sit back and make sure my playboy persona is firmly back in place as I continue speaking to the camera. No more of that sappy bullshit. “Just wait. All that’s left is for Megan to realize I’m the one. And mark my words.” Smirk. Wink. “She will.”

  Megan

  Tristan and Madden hold their champagne glasses up in the air, and I grab mine as well, clinking it against theirs as we toast our success in making it to the Final Three. We’re celebrating with a candlelit dinner in the ornate dining room of the apartment. The entire place smells like roses thanks to the dozens of arrangements scattered around the room.

  “No one deserves it more than you, Megan,” Tristan says, leaning in and giving me a smoldering look. The same one that always makes my pulse beat a little faster when he looks at me like that with those intense dark eyes. The flickering candlelight reflects off his face, making him appear even more dark and alluring.

  “The man speaks the truth,” Madden chimes in, clapping Tristan on the back and flashing that dimpled smile that makes it hard for me to focus. His blue eyes twinkle with the exuberance that’s never far away, seemingly enjoying this moment to the max, just like he does with every situation I’ve seen him in.

  I take a sip of my champagne as I glance back and forth at them. It’s a good thing I’m not actually going to have to choose between these two—if I can hold out until the end, that is—because I don’t know how I could. They’re so very different, but both so perfect in their own ways.

  Setting his glass aside, Tristan plucks one of the roses from the vase in the center of the table and trails it across my shoulder and down my arm, sending a shiver through my body.

  “You’re gorgeous. You know that?” he murmurs, leaning in close, his low voice drawing my gaze back to those captivating eyes.

  Unable to stop it, I feel a blush steal across my cheeks. The way he’s looking at me, like he’s starving and I’m his favorite meal, makes my breath come faster. He lifts the rose to my face and brushes it lightly across my lips, making them part on a soft sigh.

  Oh my god, Tristan is too much. Somehow, at the same time I want to both back away from him and drag him closer and replace that rose with his mouth.

  “Gorgeous doesn’t begin to cut it, asshole,” Madden says, snatching the rose from Tristan and running it down my throat, continuing the path until the silky petals are teasing the tops of my breasts that are now practically heaving. I’m pretty sure my panties are totally soaked, too.

  Madden leans in, biting the tip of his tongue as his eyes follow the rose, then snap back up to my face. He waggles his eyebrows and winks. “I’d say hot as fuck is a better description.”

  I laugh. He’s just as over the top as Tristan is intense.

  “Dessert?” Tristan asks, lifting a bite of decadent cheesecake to my lips.

  My eyes flick back to him, my lips parting involuntarily as I get sucked back into his gaze. I watch him as my mouth closes over the fork. His desire is evident in the way he watches me. I feel my pussy clench in response, and a moan escapes my mouth as the dessert practically melts on my tongue.

  One side of Tristan’s mouth quirks up in a smile so seductive I’m starting to forget I need to watch myself.

  Madden reaches up and brushes a finger across my lips. “I bet that tastes good.” The gleam in his eyes makes it clear that he isn’t talking about the cheesecake at all. Yeah. I’m going to need to change my panties.

  Goddamn. If these two are going to up their game like this, I’m going to have to build up my defenses a bit more. Another week of this might have me begging for them to take me—at the same fucking time.

  No bueno. I need to take over the reins here and get back in control. This is my game to win.

  “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 ri
diculous. 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.”