Chapter Twelve
Genevieve
Well, this is going to be fun.
I don’t know why I’m taking such immense pleasure in torturing them.
Maybe it’s because of the way they touched me and how they made me feel.
I didn’t like it, yet I can’t understand why I desperately, secretly want them to do it to me again.
Yes, that’s exactly why I’m taking punishing them to the next level.
How dare they make me enjoy what they did to me?
By the end of the week, I’ll have gotten them out of my system, and all will be well in my world again. Easy.
“Ready?” I ask Jake, and the sweet boy with his mop of curly hair gives me an enthusiastic nod.
I bring the megaphone to my mouth.
“Up and at ‘em!” My voice vibrates through the walls as Jake opens each of their bedroom doors.
I can’t help the huge smile on my face at the sound of three grown men, ready to blow their tops be careful not to use any cuss words, thanks to Jake. I love it.
“What in the...fridge is going on?” Jude growls.
Okay, they’re back to being naked; by naked, I mean in their boxer briefs and nothing else. How the fudge can they look so gorgeous and grumpy at the same time?
I fold my arms and let Harold explain their new living conditions. I wanted to be present when he dropped the bomb on them, and it was worth it.
Except when their darkened gazes shift to me, gliding from my head to my high-heeled sandals, making me feel naked despite wearing an ankle-length dress.
A blast of heat coats my skin, and I’m acutely aware of the discomfort between my legs.
They know exactly what they’re doing, and without saying a word, they let me know how hard they’re going to make it for me. I almost choke and run away.
But no. I’m stronger than the three of them combined. Besides, to them, I’m just a piece of entertainment whose buttons they find amusing to press. Nothing more.
“Oh, no,” Harold begins, wagging his fingers at them. “Don’t forget, there’ll be no...” he pauses, clearly rethinking his words. “No horizontal funny business of any kind, or the deal is off. Remember?”
My cheeks flush. They’re just trying to throw me off track.
Harold demands a verbal answer from them and they give it reluctantly.
“You can call me Ma’am,” I say, offering them my brightest smile.
I have no idea what I’m getting myself into, and it’s too late to turn back now.
The first item on my agenda was moving them from the penthouse into a beautiful house in a great suburb with a backyard.
The house was not too big or too small—just perfect.
I expected more grumbling from the men, but they were surprisingly okay with it.
When you’re rich, you basically just move your body from one house to the next.
I let them have that one instead of making them pack everything up themselves.
Since it was the weekend, I had some hard labor planned. Esme’s uncle runs a ranch and is always short of volunteers, so I signed up my three billionaires.
If they thought it was going to be a group activity with all five of us, they were mistaken. Jake and I watched Alexander, Levi, and Jude muck stalls, clean the pigsty and chicken coops, unclog drains, and shovel manure.
Their protests could be heard for miles. But I had a ready answer.
How were they going to set an example for Jake if he couldn’t watch them set it first?
Ha. Who knew I was this diabolical?
And after their day of manual labor in the scorching sun, there was no way they were getting back into the car smelling like that. So, of course, they stripped down to their boxer briefs and dove into the lake on the property.
I didn’t appreciate that as much as I did their grumbling about smelling like crap.
No matter how hard I tried to look away, my gaze kept drifting to their eight-pack abs, sculpted pecs, broad shoulders, and biceps. And they knew it, because when they walked by me, all glistening and wet, they brushed their skin against mine, searing me right down to my cells.
No.
It’s just as well they have no plans to get married. They should wear signs around their necks to ward off anyone from falling for them. It’s the least they could do.
After what I considered their initiation and payback for completely derailing my life, I got more serious.
I arranged times for them to visit the old-age home I frequent and read to the elderly. I made them prepare dinner with Jake each evening instead of hiring a chef or going to a restaurant.
Instead of attending swimming practice to learn how to swim, they took it upon themselves to teach Jake. They built puzzles with him, camped out in the backyard, learned how to fish, and built a birdhouse.
I stood by and watched, my heart beating to a different tune every day. Except for the times they came too close, their breaths whispering against me or the heat of their skin brushing against mine. During those moments, my heart skipped a beat, and it took me forever to regain my balance.
Falling asleep at night proved much harder. Everything inside me felt hotter, like a fever without being sick—just restless.
Every night, I reminded myself to remember who they were and why I shouldn’t, could never, ever lose my head... or my heart over them.
But I’m also known as Ms. Practical. No unrealistic dreams for me. No falling in love with three billionaires. That would just be the opposite of being level-headed. Besides, I’m me. Boring as fudge.
The days flew by in a blur, and suddenly today is the day I leave. They passed the test. And they did so with flying colors. I couldn’t fault them if I tried. They at least deserve to keep their tech plant.
They were making their own lasagna from scratch, and Jake begged me to stay until after he went to bed, which I did. I had grown even fonder of the boy, and even though I would still see him at school every day, I was going to miss him. Terribly.
I brush aside the dull, achy feeling in my chest as I pack my things. Jake is probably passed out already. He had a very full day, and now I’m ready to leave.
I carry my bags downstairs and stop dead in my tracks. Electricity sparks off my skin. My body sizzles. My nerves flee, unable to withstand the onslaught at the sight of the three billionaires.
Why are Alexander, Levi, and Jude standing around in the foyer, seemingly blocking the door that would lead me out of here?
Why does everything feel so tense, stormy, volatile?