Chapter Seven
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C lementine
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I can’t get over the happy feeling that swamps me at the sight of their house. In my eyes, it’s the picture of what a home should look like. Not like the Williams’ twenty-bedroom mansion, of which at least fifteen of them are never used.
The facade of their house is a modern, lived-in farmhouse. Oh, it’s wellkept, but there are signs of graceful aging.
It doesn’t look too big on the outside, three bedrooms at the most I would think on the inside, then something strikes me.
“Wait, is this your foster home?” It makes perfect sense.
“Yeah, we bought it as soon as we were able to.”
“Oh my god. I love it,” I say. “I love everything about it. Thank you for bringing me here.”
The gardens are so pretty and so cozy it makes me want to take up gardening all over again after my six failed attempts to keep a plant alive. When they give me a tour of the inside, I immediately want to learn how to bake in the kitchen, serve wholesome, delicious food in the dining room, and watch endless reality TV in the living room like snacking on cake.
Even Honeypot loves the place. She eagerly investigates all the rooms and comes back to give me a, ‘ You did good, bitch,’ look. After that, she just follows Holt, Steele, and Ryder around with her puppy eyes.
Well, I think I did good too, even if it’s only for twelve weeks. The masculinity I’m surrounded with comes from comfortable furniture, lingers in the air around me, which is tinged with their cologne, and seeps from the walls to embrace me in a protective cocoon. This house, like its owners, doesn't want to be anything else but itself. How perfect.
But I’m surprised when a chef arrives soon after us with a team of servers in tow.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I chide quietly. “I could have cooked us something... like boiled eggs and lettuce; I’m good at that. I don’t want you spending money unnecessarily.”
“It’s our wedding night. We splurged,” Holt says, and he grins at me. Actually grins at me.
“Don’t worry. It’s a once-off thing,” Ryder assures me.
The meal is fantastic. Kobe steak. Succulent vegetables. Out-of-this-world desserts. I’m used to eating Michelin star meals at my parents' house, but this meal was something else.
Once we’ve eaten, the chef and his entourage have left, and night has fallen a kind of awkwardness descends around me.
It’s nighttime. Bedtime...
“So...” I say as we sit around the dinner table. I’m usually never shy or at a loss for words, but I am now.
“So,” Steele says as all their gazes land on me. Ugh. They’re not helping.
I’ve been tucking away the feelings that erupted like a broken fountain inside me ever since they showed me our bed —not our bedroom, our bed, adding that it was custom made, and they got it for a steal when I protested again. It was definitely made for giants or four people.
Oh boy, oh boy.
“Well, I am going to retire. Gentlemen,” I say as I stand up from the chair. “We’ll be in later,” Steele says, and my body implodes right there.
We’ll be in later. We’ll be in later. We’ll be in later.
“I shall anticipate eagerly our future congress,” I say and cringe. Why do I always sound so haughty when I get flustered?
Not to be outdone by my pretentious language, I carry myself from the dining room like I’m wearing a Regency gown and walking with a pile of books on my head.
Who in their right mind would want to fuck me after that?
I make my way to our bedroom and spend way too much time deciding what to wear, then get myself into a frenzy thinking they were going to step in and still find me in a red knee-length shift dress. I quickly take one of the negligees from the ample selection Tierney and Haley had bought for me, slip into the shower, and scrub my skin until I gleam. I moisturize and perfume my skin, brush my hair, don the matching panties, and then the negligee.
I also pointedly ignored the toy basket Tierney got me. I may look brave and act brave, but I’m just a scared little virgin beneath it all.
The door opens.
My body threatens to self-erupt where I stand. Nervous anticipation flutters through me. Heat pools like lava in my stomach. I’m shaking as if caught in a snowstorm, but on the inside I’m a raging fire.
This is it. My wedding night. I never really dreamed about getting married only because I knew from a young age I would have to marry a man my father would choose, someone who moved in the same societal circle as our family. I always planned to defy that rule.
But this was not how I imagined my wedding night if I were given an infinite amount of guesses.
I’d never guess I’d be married to three men at the same time. I’d never guess they would look like this .
My mouth literally waters as my gaze glides over them. In the softly lit room, their sun-kissed bodies gleam with raw, unadulterated power. Their torsos are masterpieces, decked with muscles, layer after layer, as hard as brick and utterly mesmerizing to look at.
Dressed in nothing but gray track bottoms hung low on their narrow waists, this time my mouth dries as I take in the solid bulge of their cocks.
Oh boy. How am I going to take even one of them inside me, let alone three, when they’re that size?
They’ll break me. Then they’ll have to tell my family I died in battle losing my virginity. The whole world would know of my untimely demise. No. I shut off my train wreck thoughts. I should, though, just quit while I’m ahead, turn around, hop out the window, and if I don’t die, find a plane and leave the country.
“Fuck.”
Their low, growly murmurs interrupt my escape plans.