Chapter Three
River
What the fuck had they gotten themselves into?
The rather timid girl sitting opposite him and Brent and next to Cash in the limo, en route home—to their home—was nothing like they expected. She seemed sweet, agreeable, and grateful.
Maybe the next seven days weren’t going to be so bad after all.
Although…
River always liked to face the facts head-on, with no filter, no glitter. He’d taken a moment to analyze the two men who were closer to him than any blood brother could be.
Brent had shut down his reaction to her so quickly; if River hadn’t been looking at him at that exact moment, he would have missed it altogether. Cash, their resident ladies’ man, on the other hand, kept the utterly confused look on his face a little longer. River could see his mind work as he asked himself a simple question: Why?
River, for his part, brought his reaction to the forefront. The moment Orchid Rossini had walked into her father’s study, carrying two bags in her hands in the most modest dress they’d ever seen, she blasted into them like a fucking meteor.
The instant they’d each locked their gazes with hers, she filled their minds with nothing but the thought of ripping off the tiny buttons on that dress, tearing it off her body until she was naked, and fucking her right there in her father’s study. All three of them. Sharing her.
Sliding their rock-hard cocks into her body, feeling the walls of her pussy strangle their shafts, feeling her quivering around them as they fucked her and made her come. The thought of sharing her pussy and her ass between their three cocks, slowly penetrating her until they’d stretched her enough so they could lie inside her side by side and experience her body the same way, all at the same time. Fuck.
It was safe to say they’d never collectively reacted to a single woman like that before.
Unlike Brent and Cash, River had let his thoughts run their course, right to the moment when they filled her with so much of their cum, they’d need to stay inside her, plugging their essence inside her body. And then he’d poured gasoline on those visceral, wrenching thoughts and burned them to ashes.
They were not, under any circumstances, going to fuck, let alone touch Oscar Rossini’s daughter, when the man had entrusted her to them to keep her safe.
End of fucking story.
She was just a sweet, innocent, scared girl, looking to them for protection. They always took what they wanted, but Orchid Rossini was going to be the only thing on the planet they would deprive themselves of. And it had nothing to do with honor but everything to do with what she made them feel.
He spoke for Brent and Cash when their driver finally pulled up in front of their house, and a sense of relief washed over him. They’d show her to her room and hoped she stayed there until her seven days were up.
“We hope you’ll be comfortable here for the duration of your stay, Ms. Rossini,” River said as they entered the foyer of their house.
“Thank you,” she said, bursting into tears as she flung herself at River, hanging onto his neck as she sobbed away, her tears wetting his suit jacket. River kept his hands at his sides. Once they’d determined they were not going to touch, they’d meant it. There was no going back on their word.
Using her tattered tissue to wipe up her tears, she drew Cash in for the same kind of hug, soaking his suit with her tears as well before she moved on to Brent, who stiffly let her stain his suit. None of them knew what to do with a twenty-two-year-old girl crying her heart out in front of them.
Her tears flowed freely now as she stepped back.
“I’m so sorry. I’m just so grateful you agreed to take me in. I’m so grateful my dad has nothing to worry about now.” She sobbed and hiccupped.
“Nothing’s going to happen to you here, or to your father, Ms. Rossini.” Cash assured her.
“Please call me, Orchid,” she said, sniffing once more. “Oh no. I messed up your suits,” she said and started crying all over again. “Please forgive me.” Using the tissue that was now just soaked blobs, she attempted to wipe away the tear stains on their jackets, which resulted in her leaving behind bits of pink fluff on their ten-thousand-dollar suits.
“I’m such a mess. This whole marriage thing is taking its toll on me.”
“Again, you have nothing to worry about, Orchid,” Brent said, almost against his wishes.
“We normally don’t eat much at home, but we’re hiring a chef for you for tomorrow. You can get takeout tonight.”
“Oh no, please. Don’t hire a chef just on account of me. I’m actually an excellent cook. Please, let me cook for you. You won’t regret it, and it’s the absolute least I can do in return.”
“You don’t need to—” Brent said gruffly.
“I want to, please,” she said, batting her eyes.
“All right,” River said. “The chef will be on standby.”
“Thank you, Mr. Knolls. Thank you, Mr. Adams. Thank you, Mr. Ingram, And no, I need you to understand the depth of my gratitude and respect, so I won’t be calling you by your first name.
“If it’s not too much trouble, can I be shown to the room I’ll be spending the next seven days in? Oh sorry. That was very presumptuous of me. I’ll take the couch if you don’t have an extra room. I’m just so happy to be safe that I’ll take the floor in your kitchen if I need to.” She looked up at them, her brilliant hazel eyes swimming with fresh tears.
“We have plenty of room, Orchid,” Brent said.
“Charlie will carry your bags to your room; you can just follow him. And if you need anything, anything at all, just ask one of us.”
She nodded and flung herself back into the arms for round two of crying all over their suits.
Did River imagine it, or had the sweet Orchid Rossini deliberately tried to rub her leaking eyes and leaking nose against their suits as much as possible?
No. He was imagining it. The girl was clearly distraught.