Chapter 08
Third Person's POV
"W-Wait, what are you doing? You said we were just going to shower," Dahlia protested as Jackson placed her in the bathtub and suddenly inserted his finger inside her while directing warm water toward her most intimate areas.
"I'm just cleaning you so you don't get an infection," Jackson explained matter-of-factly. "Don't worry, I read about this in an article."
Dahlia covered her mouth with her hand and allowed Jackson to continue his gentle ministrations. When he seemed satisfied with his careful cleaning, he began filling the bathtub with warm water before stepping away.
"Wait a moment," Jackson said, now dressed in his pajama pants. "I'll be right back. I need to get something from Paige's room."
He gave Dahlia a quick kiss on the lips before leaving the bathroom.
Dahlia leaned back against the bathtub, a soft smile playing on her lips. "You really are something else, Jackson," she whispered to herself.
If this had been any other man, she knew with certainty that he would have used her and discarded her like trash afterward. She had encountered many men in her life, but none of them had ever given her a second glance after getting what they wanted. Jackson was different—genuinely different.
Dahlia submerged herself in the warm water, feeling the soreness between her thighs gradually ease away. The warmth was soothing, but more than that, Jackson's thoughtfulness touched something deep inside her that she hadn't expected to feel.
The bathroom door opened, and Jackson returned carrying several bottles. He placed them on the edge of the bathtub with a gentle smile.
"These help relax your muscles," he explained. "They're herbal and one hundred percent safe, plus they smell really nice."
"Join me," Dahlia said, her voice soft but insistent.
Jackson hesitated for a moment but ultimately complied. He removed his pajama pants once again and carefully stepped into the bathtub. Dahlia immediately moved closer, leaning back against his chest. Jackson's body tensed at the intimate contact.
"Your little friend is poking my back," Dahlia said with amusement, feeling Jackson's arousal pressing against her.
"Just ignore it," Jackson replied, though his voice was strained. He had been fighting his body's reactions all evening, and he was becoming increasingly aware of how shameless his thoughts had become. He rubbed his forehead in frustration.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, Jackson remembered something Paris had mentioned about Dahlia. She had told him that among the three sisters, Dahlia was the one who needed his attention the most. There had been rumors about various men being linked to Dahlia, stories about hotel encounters that may or may not have been true.
"Am I your first?" Jackson asked suddenly, the question slipping out before he could stop himself.
Dahlia went still, her head dropping slightly. The question hung in the air between them like a delicate thread.
"I don't mean anything by it," Jackson quickly added, sensing her discomfort. "Paris mentioned some things about you and hotels. It's not a big deal to me because you're beautiful and you're at the right age—"
"You're my first," Dahlia interrupted quietly.
Jackson felt awkward, wishing he hadn't brought up the subject at all.
"Despite what people might think, I do have some sense of propriety," Dahlia continued, her voice gaining strength. "I wanted to give my first time to my husband, not to some random guy who would use me and then leave me alone in a hotel room."
Dahlia couldn't help but laugh bitterly when she thought about all the rumors surrounding her supposed promiscuity. The media painted her as some kind of seductress, but the truth was far different.
When men looked at her face and body, all they wanted was to possess her physically, to mark her as their conquest. None of them had ever seen her as a person worth knowing beyond the physical.
Dahlia's thoughts were interrupted when Jackson's arms wrapped around her from behind, holding her securely against his chest without saying a word. In that moment, she realized she wasn't alone anymore. Perhaps she had been wrong about him, and maybe—just maybe—this could be something real.
---
After Dahlia had fallen asleep, Jackson quietly left her room and made his way to Paige's room. The youngest sister was awake, sitting up in bed and eating the meal he had prepared for her earlier.
"Have you eaten yet, Jackson?" Paige asked, looking up from her food.
Jackson approached the bed and placed his hands on either side of her, leaning down to kiss her lips gently.
"Messy," Paige complained with a laugh. "My lips taste like chicken now."
Jackson chuckled as Paige wiped her lips and swallowed her food. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and Paige immediately set aside her tray to kiss him again, this time more deeply. Jackson responded eagerly as Paige positioned herself on his lap, wearing only panties and an oversized t-shirt.
"You two made such a mess in the kitchen," Paige said between kisses. "You better clean it up later or Paris will be furious when she sees what you did."
Jackson laughed and assured her that he had already cleaned everything up. His hands found Paige's waist as he kissed her lips and then trailed down to her neck. He slipped his hands under her shirt, cupping her full breasts and earning a soft moan from her as she ground her dampening core against his growing arousal.
"Stop that," Jackson said, pulling back slightly. "Doesn't it still hurt?"
Paige pushed him back onto the bed with a mischievous grin. "Who cares?" she said boldly.
---
**Jackson Ortega's POV**
I stared at the numerous skincare products Dahlia had bought for me, then looked at myself in the mirror. My skin was dark, full of pores, with a growing beard and several pimples scattered across my face.
I was starting to feel embarrassed about appearing next to Paige looking like this. School would be starting soon, and even though Paige said she was fine with how I looked, I wasn't satisfied with my appearance.
I rubbed my face with my hands, thinking about how beautiful my wives were. I took a deep breath and tried to read the instructions on the skincare products.
"How could I forget that I'm terrible at English?" I muttered to myself, setting down the products in frustration.
I left the bathroom and found Dahlia hanging more designer outfits in my closet—clothes that I rarely wore because they seemed too expensive and formal for someone like me.
"Jack, there you are," Dahlia said, noticing my presence. "What's wrong?"
I scratched my head and approached her. "I have all these skincare products in the bathroom, but I don't know how to use them."
Dahlia touched her chin thoughtfully, clearly trying to come up with a solution.
"Jack! Look, how do you like my new look?" Paige suddenly burst through my bedroom door, causing me to stare in amazement at her transformation.
She had dyed her hair black and cut it to shoulder length, completely changing her appearance.
"You look beautiful now, Paige," I said with a genuine smile, telling her I almost didn't recognize her.
Paige blushed and called me stupid, but I could tell she was pleased with the compliment.
I noticed Dahlia suddenly grab my arm, and while there was no anger or irritation on her face, her expression seemed to be saying that I should compliment her too.
"I don't know what else to say about you, Dahlia," I said honestly. "You're always beautiful."
She seemed satisfied with that response.
"Paige is familiar with makeup and skincare," Dahlia suggested. "You should ask her for help."
I looked at Paige, who immediately moved closer to me with enthusiasm.
"Do you want to learn how to use them? I'll teach you, don't worry! You'll become even more handsome!" Paige said excitedly.
Dahlia warned her not to go overboard, and I just laughed when she mentioned that they didn't want any competition for my attention. As if I would ever think of looking for someone else—I didn't want to deal with more people to please or additional headaches. Three wives were more than enough for me.