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Chapter Nine
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.
The Comeback Lodge was not cheap by any means, and it showed. The luxury cabin came equipped with perfect lighting, a bottle of complimentary champagne, chocolate-dipped strawberries, Egyptian thread linen on the rather gigantic four-poster bed... and three billionaires.
She kept blinking to clear her vision in case she was hallucinating. She wasn’t.
It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. They changed the script on her and––
Oh no. They knew it was her. How? When?
But, like every time she set her eyes on them, her heartbeat accelerated. Her body turned into a furnace. Every cell inside her caught fire, making her breasts—naked beneath her jacket—feel so heavy that she wanted to gasp out loud. Her limbs started to quiver. And the tiny strip of silk clung damply to the folds of her pussy now.
They’d showered and changed their clothes. The scent of their soap and fresh cologne hit her first, and they’d swapped their bespoke suits for jeans and T-shirts. Oh yes, of course, it’s because they thought they were going to get laid.
She couldn’t understand why that bothered her on the inside on a level with which she wasn’t familiar. Or rather, a part she had deliberately buried. Arg. She hated them.
But that reasoning was all wrong now. She’d been incredibly, spectacularly, disturbingly, and horribly outplayed.
They knew it was her. When had they figured that out, she had no idea. But she desperately needed to know if it was before they sent those texts or after.
No, it didn’t matter.
“Ward.”
A million pinpricks of sensation darted across her skin, fueling that ever-present fire in her body that erupted whenever she was in their company, despite her hating that she was their ward.
Their dark eyes raked her from the top of her head to the tips of her shoes.
In turn, her gaze traveled over their stupidly handsome faces in wild bewilderment as they stood next to each other with their hands in their jeans pockets, too tall, too overpowering, too everything.
Flip.
“Guardians,” she said sweetly, smiling broadly, wondering how she could salvage an inkling of her punchline. Dammit, she had totally missed out on their utter disbelief. Their astonishment. Their confusion. Them pacing up and down the cabin floor, ready to kill her for tricking them, while simultaneously trying to keep their lunch down because it was her; she was I Like Big Dicks. Where was all that?
That was the reaction she had paid for.
Not this. Not them knowing it was her before she could hit them over the head with it.
Fuck.
“Are you going to take your clothes off for us, or do you want us to do that for you?”
Paisley whipped her head in the direction of Benjamin, her skin so hot at the sound of his voice that she worried she was going to implode. What was happening to her? And surely, she had misheard him. Because what? What?
“No. No. I’m not taking my clothes off, and neither are you taking my clothes off. Are you three out of your mind?” Her voice came out hoarse and strained, which made her sound squeaky and desperate.
“Look, you three needed to be taught a lesson, and I volunteered, okay?”
“Yes, and why is that?” Jackson said quietly in his deep, rough voice. Her heart missed a beat, and more fire lit up her blood.
She swallowed hard and resisted the urge to start pacing. They were supposed to be trying to unsee those texts by washing their eyes out with bleach, for crying out loud.
And what was happening to her? Was she coming down with something? No. She was fine. She didn’t do all that planning to fall apart right at the climax of it all. She mentally pulled herself together and reiterated in her mind why she was here in the first place.
They were arrogant players, and they needed to be taught a lesson.
“Oh, I’ll tell you why because clearly, you three haven’t figured that out for yourselves, so let me enlighten you. I just wanted one friend. One friend who wasn’t going to try to strip off her clothes and throw herself at you three—”
