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She worked as a web designer for a company called Tech-Oracle. Her first job since college.
Her best friend was one Sarah Green, thirty-two years old, married, and working as an aesthetician.
Rayne Alice Bradshaw either left for work at 6:00 a.m., 7:45 a.m., or 9 a.m. and every other time in between, with no two times ever being the same in the space of her activities being documented.
She ate lunch anytime from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. and went back home anytime from 5:10 p.m. to 7 p.m. She had zero fixed routine whatsoever. Sometimes she would stop for ice cream at a place called Desprinkle Ice Cream Parlor four days in a row, then detour into a Whole Foods store for a full three days in a row, which she then followed by picking up pizza at a local pizzeria a block away from her apartment for another two days in a row.
Then she’d drive straight home from work for a few days consistently, only to break the streak by picking up an iced coffee from a Starbucks and a cinnamon roll from a small boutique bakery opposite.
The next day, she’d stop at her gym and actually go inside. Other times she’d read a book in her workout clothes, in her car, in the gym parking lot.
She was erratic, had no discipline, suffered from a severe sweet tooth, and had a guilty conscience to go along with it and read romance novels. According to the report, which the rookie decided was pertinent information, at the time she was reading a book calledThree Rough Barbarians and a Sweet Maiden Girl.
The thought had crossed their minds that their boss was in fact playing a joke on them, which was totally out of character for him. But stranger things had happened.
Still, they were going to treat this like any other assignment, without any guns, since that had been a prerequisite. If the whole assignment wasn’t ambiguous and strange enough, Partick had given it a code yellow rating. Little to no danger. If there was any danger, it would be inconsequential.
There was no security escort involved.
No interrogations.
She wasn’t a key witness to anything—well, maybe to those books she read.
Three Rough Barbarians and a Sweet Maiden Girl.
Yeah, they all knew it was nothing more than a glorified babysitting detail for no apparent reason. But it seemed exponentially important to Patrick. He wouldn’t have called in a favor otherwise. And they owed him their lives when he rescued them from the pits of hell of a foster care system that had failed them completely.
Their circumstances had turned them into violent delinquents. Patrick had taken their anger and redirected it at people who deserved it. There wasn’t anything in the world they could refuse him, certainly not this unusual assignment.
They had to follow the principal around during her day-to-day activities. And watch over her at night. They would be living in her apartment, and they would be surveilling her 24/7.
For thirty-days.
It would have been a walk in the park until they set their eyes on her in person for the first time in the solicitor’s office.
She had made them stagger. All three of them, instantly, violently, and without mercy.
When she turned around to face them, just one look from her dazzling amber eyes with their thick, dark eyelashes and perfectly arched eyebrows, and their blood started to run hot. The absolute sweet curve of her jaw and her full, lush lips, painted a cherry-bright red, had their cocks stirring and their hands aching to touch her.
They had never experienced such an intimate, spontaneous, and combustible reaction to another person in all their lives, and they had been all over the world and faced all kinds of life-and-death situations.
They had certainly never reacted that way to a woman before. They had definitely never reacted that way to a woman before, and then silently and immediately decided they wanted her beneath their bodies. The thought of opening her legs, parting her folds, and then taking turns to drink from her made them collectively salivate for her taste.
And then they wanted to fill her with their thick, heavy cocks, until her stunning eyes glossed over as she whimpered in their arms. Torturing them with the tightness of her sweet body as their shafts lay snug and deep inside her, sharing her pussy and her ass among them.
Fuck, the idea of stretching her supple body, of coming inside her and drenching her with their cum, then watching it leak softly and slowly from her, ravaged their thoughts, their bodies, and their fucking souls.
Once wasn’t going to be enough. Not even twice. She had created what felt like an endless, turbulent desire for her in one single moment.
She had weakened them. Just like that.
Fuck it, she wasn’t supposed to look like that.
Sound like that, with a softly defiant voice.
Smell like that. The moment they stepped into Montgomery’s office, they had stepped into a cloud of her fragrance, a fresh, flowery, powdery scent that tripled their desire to take her innocence for themselves and show her the many filthy ways they wanted to fuck her until all they could smell was her smell, taste was her taste, see was the vision of her.
Who was this girl?
