Chapter 04
Third Person's POV
Paris and Dahlia both understood that Jackson's reaction was purely instinctual—a natural physical response that was part of human sexuality. But what they found most remarkable about the situation was how it revealed Jackson's deep-seated respect for women. He had asked for permission before doing anything, and if any other man had been in Jackson's position with three beautiful wives, they would have undoubtedly taken advantage of the situation without a second thought.
Paris shook her head and crossed her arms, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she observed Jackson's behavior. Here was a man who didn't even know how to kiss properly when they first met, yet he possessed more integrity than most men twice his age. The irony wasn't lost on her—she had chosen him precisely because of his inexperience and desperation, but it was his character that was proving to be his most attractive quality.
Jackson approached Dahlia with genuine remorse written across his features. He kissed her forehead gently and apologized for his abrupt rejection of her advances.
Dahlia laughed, though there was a hint of frustration in her voice. "I can't believe you actually turned me down," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "You really know how to bruise a girl's ego, you know that?"
Jackson stood up from the couch, his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he adjusted his jeans with shaking hands. He reached down to help Dahlia to her feet, his movements careful and respectful. Even in his flustered state, he made sure to smooth down her skirt, ensuring her modesty was preserved.
"You're too much of a gentleman sometimes," Dahlia complained, though her tone held more affection than genuine annoyance. "It's actually irritating how considerate you are."
Jackson immediately apologized again, his face growing even redder. He turned toward Paris, who was sitting on the edge of her desk with her legs crossed, watching the entire exchange with an unreadable expression.
"What?" Paris asked, her poker face firmly in place. She was still feeling the effects of their interrupted encounter, her body humming with unfulfilled desire.
Without a word, Jackson removed the suit jacket he was wearing and draped it carefully over Paris's shoulders. She looked at him with confusion, not understanding the gesture.
"I'm sorry," Jackson said quietly, his voice filled with genuine concern. "I think I accidentally tore some of the buttons on your uniform when we were..." He trailed off, his face burning as he picked up the fallen buttons from the floor and showed them to her.
Paris glanced down at her blouse and noticed that several buttons had indeed come undone, revealing more of her cleavage than was appropriate for a professional setting. However, it wasn't so revealing as to be scandalous—just enough to be noticeable. She decided not to worry about it for now, feeling too lazy to bother with fixing her appearance.
"The street food is getting cold!" Paige announced from across the room, breaking the tension that had settled over the office.
"Oh no! The food!" Jackson exclaimed, immediately rushing over to where Paige was sitting with their lunch spread out on a small table.
Dahlia's expression fell as she watched Jackson's attention shift so quickly away from her. The disappointment was clear on her face, though she tried to hide it.
"Disappointed?" Paris asked, a teasing note in her voice as she observed her sister's reaction.
Dahlia rolled her eyes and crossed her arms defensively. "If he acts like this with every woman he encounters, he's going to end up just like our father," she said bitterly.
Paris laughed at the comparison. "Why? Do you want to spend your whole life being our mother's shadow?" she asked pointedly.
Dahlia's face darkened at the mention of their mother, and she shot Paris a look that could have frozen fire. The sisters had a complicated relationship with their parents' marriage, and any comparison to their mother's submissive role was guaranteed to strike a nerve.
"Paris, Dahlia? Lunch is almost ready," Jackson called out, interrupting their tense exchange. Both sisters turned toward him, their expressions softening automatically.
"I want the blood sausage," Dahlia announced dramatically, stomping over to the table and snatching the portion that Paige had been eyeing. "I'm one hundred percent sure it's healthier and tastes better than Jackson's cum anyway."
Jackson choked on his drink at Dahlia's crude comment, sputtering an apology while his face turned crimson. Dahlia glared at him, clearly still irritated by his earlier rejection.
Looking around, Jackson noticed that there weren't enough chairs for everyone. "Paris, you can sit here," he said, gesturing to his lap. He had meant it as a casual suggestion, but he was surprised when Paris actually took him up on the offer.
Without hesitation, Paris settled herself on his thighs and reached for some food from the table, acting as if sitting on her husband's lap in her office was the most natural thing in the world.
"What?" she asked with her trademark poker face when she noticed Jackson staring at her in surprise.
Jackson raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, shaking his head to indicate he had no complaints. He carefully placed his hands on Paris's waist to steady her and reached around her to grab a slice of pizza, trying to ignore how her proximity was affecting his concentration.
The sisters began discussing various business matters while they ate, their conversation flowing easily between topics of investments, market trends, and upcoming projects. Jackson listened with fascination, gaining insight into the complex world of high-stakes business that his wives navigated daily.
Eventually, the conversation turned to more personal matters, specifically Jackson's education.
"Classes start again next week," Paris mentioned casually. "You'll be attending the same school as Paige."
Jackson paused in his chewing and looked at Paige with curiosity. "What year are you in, Paige?" he asked.
"We're the same year," Paige replied with a bright smile. "We're both first-year college students."
Jackson's expression grew serious as he considered something that had been weighing on his mind. "My mother is okay now," he said slowly. "I think I can support my own education from here on out."
The three sisters all turned to look at him with varying degrees of surprise and concern.
"Don't worry! I'll still come home to you," Jackson added quickly, misinterpreting their expressions. "The contract is still in effect—"
"Whatever belongs to us belongs to you too, husband," Paige interrupted firmly. "We won't allow you to work, especially when it's not necessary."
Dahlia nodded in agreement, fixing Jackson with a stern look. "You have only a few responsibilities: study, come home, and fulfill your duties as our husband. Do you understand?" she asked, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Jackson's face fell slightly, and he nodded reluctantly. While most men would have been thrilled by such an arrangement, Jackson felt uncomfortable with the idea of being completely dependent on his wives. He had been raised to work for what he needed, and the concept of being financially supported felt foreign to his sense of pride.
"You can be Dahlia's personal assistant," Paris suggested, noticing his discomfort. "Make it a part-time job. And every weekend, you can come to my office and assist me as well."
Jackson's face brightened immediately at the suggestion. "That sounds perfect," he agreed enthusiastically.
"That's not fair!" Paige protested, crossing her arms and pouting. "I feel like you two are going to have all the quality time with him."
"We'll have lunch together every day," Jackson pointed out. "We'll be going to and from school together too."
Paige considered this and her expression brightened. "You're right! That means we'll have dates every day!" she exclaimed happily.
Both Paris and Dahlia turned to stare at Jackson with identical poker faces, making him feel like he was under intense scrutiny.
"We'll have dates too, right?" Jackson asked Dahlia nervously. "During lunch breaks when I'm working part-time with you?"
Dahlia rolled her eyes, while Paris simply snorted and returned to her food.
For Jackson, the challenge of managing relationships with three wives was daunting, but somehow he found himself genuinely happy with the arrangement. These women made him feel like he had gained not just wives, but sisters, family, and friends all at once. He could feel their care and attention, even if he didn't fully understand why they were so interested in him specifically.
---
**That Evening**
Jackson lay in his bed, holding his phone as he scrolled through various websites. His cheeks burned with embarrassment as he conducted his research, but he was determined to educate himself properly.
"I need to learn how to please a woman properly," he muttered to himself, sitting up in bed. "I don't want it to just be meaningless sex."
He continued his search, looking for educational content rather than purely explicit material. He wanted to understand the emotional and physical aspects of intimacy, not just the mechanics.
Jackson paused when something caught his attention on the screen. He studied it carefully and smiled with satisfaction. "Found it," he said quietly, bookmarking several educational articles and videos.
Suddenly, his bedroom door burst open without warning. Jackson nearly threw his phone across the room in his panic, quickly shoving it under his pillow and turning toward the door with what he hoped was an innocent expression.
Paige stood in the doorway, her face completely devoid of its usual cheerful expression. The transformation was so dramatic that Jackson barely recognized her.
"What are you hiding?" she asked, her voice cold and suspicious. "Are you talking to other women?"
Jackson's eyes widened in shock at the accusation. "No! Why would I be with other women?" he protested. The idea seemed absurd to him—he was married to three women who could easily be mistaken for goddesses. Why would he even think about anyone else?
Paige slammed the door shut behind her with enough force to rattle the frame. Jackson jumped at the sound, genuinely startled by her sudden change in demeanor. He had never seen this side of Paige before—his first impression of her had been that she was playful, mischievous, and cheerful. This cold, threatening version of her was completely unexpected.
The tension in the room was palpable as Paige slowly approached the bed. Jackson could feel his heart racing even though he knew he hadn't done anything wrong. There was something predatory in her movements that made every instinct scream at him to be careful.
Paige placed her hands on either side of Jackson's body, effectively trapping him against the headboard. Her face was inches from his, and he could see a darkness in her eyes that made his blood run cold.
"I'm warning you now, Jackson," she said, her voice barely above a whisper but carrying more menace than any shout could have. "If you ever try to cheat on us, remember this: we might not hurt you directly, but we hold your mother's life in our hands. And the lives of several other people you care about."
She leaned even closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she delivered her final threat. "I will personally kill any woman you're unfaithful with while she's taking a shower, and I'll make sure she's bathed in the blood of her entire family tree before I'm done."
Jackson's face went pale, and his throat went completely dry. The casual way Paige delivered such a horrific threat, combined with the sweet tone of her voice, made it infinitely more terrifying than if she had been screaming.