10. Rosa

Everything was dark, and no matter how hard I tried to focus on what could possibly be in front of me, I couldn't make anything out. My heart rate kicked into triple-time as anxiety and something else, something like a twinge of excitement, started to percolate through my body. A sound started, and I felt a vent overhead start to blast cool air.

"Solo es el airé, it's just the AC." I told myself as I looked around, my eyes strained, but nothing. Just darkness and the cool AC air.

I tried to walk, but I couldn't get my feet to move.

I wasn't sure why, but I couldn't. I shivered.

Where am I? Am I dreaming again?

I tried hard to remember what had happened last, but I couldn't get my brain to think. Not when I was almost positive I wasn't alone. This eerie feeling started to get a strange hold on me, and when I opened my mouth to scream, something covered it. A hand. My chest rose and fell heavily. A leather-gloved hand.

"Shh," a deep voice sounded by my ears, and I trembled. My heart felt like it was about to burst through my ribcage, but I couldn't deny the excitement that prickled through my body.

What is wrong with me?

Why does my body react this way?Was I some kind of pervert?

An undeniable pulse started from the top of my head and rushed straight down through my body to my toes. I felt exhilarated. Alive. It was the opposite of what I should have felt. But then again, my fantasies were usually darker than sweet bubblegum dreams.

A hand dropped to my waist, and whoever was holding me brushed their nose against the side of my face, but he was wearing something. A mask? It wasn't skin on skin like I would have wished. But having a layer between us had a thrill of its own.

"Be a good girl for us, baby." The raspy masculine tone sounded familiar, but whatever he had on his face muffled it too much to place it.

Suddenly, wherever I was, was no longer covered in darkness. The dimly lit room was painted in a deep royal purple, and when I glanced down, that hand on my neck snaked around to my stomach. I glanced down to see a black-leather-gloved hand there. It was so much bigger than mine. I wanted to turn, but I couldn't get myself to move.

"Such a good fucking girl for her daddies," the deep voice rasped. I shivered at his words. I felt a lot in that moment, but despite the slight prickle of anxiety I felt, I wasn't scared.

I was embarrassingly wet and turned on.

This was a fantasy.

It had to be.

Strong almost familiar hands turned me around gently, almost tenderly, and I stared at the faceless man. No. That wasn't true. He wasn't faceless; he was just covered up with some kind of black fabric that hid every single one of his features. But even where I stood, I knew he was big and tall and strong.

Just the way he touched me showed he knew the strength he was capable of and was being deliberate in touching me tenderly.

"Look at you," he drawled. His voice dropped an octave as I stared up at the man.

This is a fantasy.

This isn't real.

It's a fantasy.

If it were real, I would be able to get a hint something of the man behind the mask. "Such a pretty girl, aren't you?"

"Yes, daddy." The whispered words tumbled past my lips, and even though I couldn't even make out any of my masked man's features, I knew in my gut he was smiling at me with pride.

"Fucking love the way that sounds. What do you think, guys? That sound good to you two?" I didn't dare look behind me. He was talking to someone and, knowing this was a fantasy, I let my imagination go wild.

Two men dressed similarly to the man who held me in place with a possessive grip on my hips. Watching me. If I stood still enough, I could almost feel their gazes on my body, their body heat radiating against my back.

Two deep grunts sounded, and the masked man in front of me tilted his head as if he was watching me even closer. Goose bumps flared over my skin, making me feel more exposed than I was. I glanced down to see that I was only wearing one of my racerback nightshirts. The one I had on was lavender and my favorite because it was worn thin and fit perfectly.

"Good girls get treats." He brushed his mask-covered nose against mine, and I all but melted into the man. His lips skimmed my cheek, and it felt so real I second-guessed myself about it being a dream. "Do you deserve a treat, princess?"

"Yes, daddy." My voice sounded breathy in my ears.

"Such a good girl. Turn around, princess," he demanded in a stern tone.

I did, and there they were.

Just like I had known they would be.

Like I had dreamt before.

There were two other men wearing similar masks staring at me. Both as tall and strong and broad as the first. Covered up completely. I wanted to see a little bit of them. If I did, I had a feeling I would be able to figure out who was who. But not an inch of skin was exposed. They didn't have to take the masks off for me to know who they were, who my fever dream fantasies were about.

"We're going to make you feel so fucking good, baby girl." One man stepped forward, and when his rough hand touched my chin, I trembled.

"But first, you're going to take care of us, aren't you?" I nodded happily as my mouth watered and my sex pulsed with need.

The man behind me pulled my back against his front, and I leaned into him. His hand dropped from my waist and slowly traveled to the hem of my nightshirt. Without hesitation, like he knew my body, like he owned me, his hand drifted under, and then it was there. Cupping my pussy. And I was very aware of the fact I wasn't wearing any panties. His hand felt big and strong and slightly rough. One thick finger grazed between my folds, and the growled sound he made by my ear ran through me like lightning.

"She's so wet for us," he shared with approval in his voice. "Should we play with our little girl first?"

God, the possibilities were countless.

The images of the things they could do to me flashed through my head, and I knew I would let them do whatever they wanted.

"What do you want, princess?" the other man asked, and I could have sworn his eyes were so dark they were almost black, like Jett's.

I opened my mouth to answer, but not a word came out. They stepped closer to me, and the man behind me kept teasing me.

"Tell us, baby girl. What do you want?" the other man asked, pressing his covered face against mine. I tried and tried, but I couldn't tell them what I wanted. The words wouldn't slip past my lips, and I hated it!

"Rosie. Fuck, baby? Wake up, honey," Malcom's deep voice sounded, and my eyes popped open as I gasped for air and looked into the warmest most soulful gaze. "Hey, shh," he soothed. "I got you. It's okay. Everything is okay," he reassured me. "Bad dream?"

"I'm, I'm… what?" I licked my lips. My throat felt dry, and he frowned. His hand brushed my hair out of my face, and I blinked. It was a dream. It'd been a dream. I took in my surroundings.

We were lying on the couch in their movie room. Casey and Jett were asleep on recliners, while I was lying on Mal's very bare chest. I jumped and sat up, immediately hating that I wasn't touching his smooth skin.

"Do you wax to get this smooth?" I blurted. Maybe it was my fever or my hands having a mind of their own or both, but my fingertips moved between us and slid between his pecs. His body was ridiculous.

I'd known he was ripped.

I'd seen them come and go to the home gym they preferred to use, but I had never seen him shirtless. I had never seen how beautiful his body was or how hairless his skin was. I would have bet money he had some kind of tattoo inked on him, but he didn't. Not a mark. Not even a birthmark. Nothing but smooth, flawless, warm-to-the-touch flesh. His muscles contracted under my touch, and when I realized what I was doing, I pulled my hand away. He chuckled.

"No." He shook his head.

"How do you, umm, get all silky like that?"

"You okay?" he asked, not letting me change the subject about the almost dirty dream I'd woken up from.

That was when it all came back to me. Not only had they been attentive and sweet, taking care of me, making sure I was eating and taking medication at the right time, but they hadn't let me lift a finger. When Malcom had come home from the office, he had brought home the best chicken noodle soup I had ever tasted. Soup I had thrown up all over his bed. I winced at the reminder. "You were sleeping pretty hard and mumbling."

"I was?" My face felt red hot. "Umm…" I licked my lips. How could I explain I was about to have a dirty wet dream with him and his best friends?

"Bad dream?" he guessed again, and if I had said something embarrassing in my sleep, I could tell he wasn't going to tell me.

"No." I couldn't get myself to outright lie. Any dream with a hint of them could never be bad. I had no idea how I kept finding myself in these situations with them.

Me in bed or lying on one man or the other. Cuddled close. But I wasn't complaining. I was also trying not to move away. I had a feeling the moment they knew I was all better, everything would go back to normal.

Or at least that's what I kept telling myself.

I blinked and realized I'd been staring at Malcom, and he had been watching me back. My eyes dropped to his chest, where I caught myself stroking his chest again, but he cleared his throat. "Honey, my eyes are up here."

"Shit! Sorry! I don't know why—" His hand covered mine, and he brought it up to his lips.

"I'm pretty sure I wasn't complaining, princess." I swallowed hard.

Princess.

Just like in my dream.

I shivered, and his gaze turned almost molten. I knew he hadn't missed the way my body reacted to him or the way my nipples were pointing right at him like they were begging for his attention. He's your boss! a voice shouted in my head. The reminder of how wrong this whole situation was hit me like a brick. I tore my eyes away from his and stared forward. Credits moved across the screen, and I pointed at the TV.

"The movie ended." I winced at how stupid I must have sounded. Thanks a lot, Captain Obvious.

"Do you want to watch something else?"

"I, umm…" I frowned and avoided looking at him. "I think I should go to bed."

"Okay, let"s," he said easily. I felt like a goldfish out of water.

"No." I jumped up and heard something stir next to me. "I should go on my own."

"But you have a fever."

"I'll be fine. I, umm…" I felt my own face and quietly took stock of how I felt. I wasn't cold. I was a little drowsy, probably from how much I had slept, but I didn't feel any worse for wear. "I think I feel better and?—"

"You need another dose in thirty minutes," he reminded me.

"I'll take it," I promised. I was a grown woman and didn't need them to give it to me. Well, not that I wouldn't mind them giving me something else.

"But Ros?—"

"Thank you again for taking care of me," I interrupted him on purpose.

I knew Malcom.

Or I thought I did.

Before this work week, I wouldn't have thought he could talk me into much, but the last couple of days, I had seen a completely different side of him. And by doing so, there were one too many boss-employee boundaries that had been crossed.

I knew what it was like to fall asleep in his arms. My eyes dropped to his still bare chest, and my hands rose like I was about to reach for him. Thankfully, I caught myself and crossed my arms in front of me instead.

"Ros—"

"And I'm really sorry for the whole puking in your bed thing and—" I rambled because it"s what I did when I was nervous. His muscles clenched and flexed. My eyes dropped to the ground because he didn't need me ogling him like some kind of cat in heat. "I'll make sure the bedding is disinfected and clean and—" My words drifted off to nothing when two very masculine, very bare feet appeared in front of me.

"Rosa, look at me," he gently requested, but I shook my head.

I was getting too close to them.

The lines had blurred while I was sick. And my dreams with them were only getting dirtier. There was something wrong with me. I didn't just want one of my bosses; I wanted all three. I wanted to get lost in a breathless sweaty windstorm of slick, hard bodies surrounding me. It wasn't just the dirty stuff, like wanting them to use me however they saw fit, but my poor sex-deprived body wanted more.

I wanted them to coddle and spoil me.

Hold me like they had been the last couple of days, but for the rest of my life. I felt safe with them. I'd never felt that safe with any man, much less three. But Casey, Jett, and Mal were different.

"Rosa, look at me. Please," Mal repeated a little more sternly. I tipped my head up, and when my eyes caught his body, I tried, I really did, to skim over the very obvious bulge at the front of Malcom's shorts. But it was impossible. I doubted a nun could have had the willpower to look away.

"Wow," I whispered and winced. I shook my head, and when our eyes connected, Malcom's gaze felt intense.

"Was it a bad dream you were having, honey?" Before I could figure out how to shrug away his question, his hand rose between us. Slowly, almost like he was trying to give me a chance to move away, like I should have.

But I didn't.

If anything, I waited on pins and needles for his touch. Malcom cupped my face and stepped closer as I leaned into it even further.

"You"re so fucking soft. How are you so soft?" he whispered. He shouldn't have been touching me like that. I shouldn't have let him.

What if the other two woke up?

What would they think about this?

I glanced behind me, and for some reason, I wasn't shocked to see that both Casey and Jett were not only awake but sitting up on the edge of their seats, watching us like Mal and I were the movie playing on the big screen. And I didn't hate it.

Not even a little bit.

"I, umm…" My voice cracked. I felt breathless. The men behind me stood up, and before I knew it, they were right behind me. Jett's hand covered one hip and Casey"s did the other as they pulled me into them while Malcom leaned in closer. My three crazy sexy bosses were caging me in just like in my dream, and I loved it.

"What… umm, what's going on?" I asked breathlessly.

I couldn't look away from Mal.

I couldn't stop the way my body felt awake and alive in a way I had never in my life had experienced. I was hyperaware of Casey and Jett behind me. Casey's lips brushed against my temple, and my body trembled.

Not with fear but desire.

A white-hot knot formed low in my belly, and my thighs pressed together for some kind of relief. Just like in my dream, I was seriously turned on. This was a lot like my dream. But without masks and the whole me calling them daddy and me being called their princess.

"You know what's going on," Jett whispered roughly into my ear before flicking it with his hot, wet tongue. My pussy throbbed and my eyes fluttered shut. "I love how your body reacts to us. Look at her. She's shaking like a leaf," Casey taunted in a way I had never heard. My eyes opened, and it felt like the reality check I needed.

I couldn't do what my body wanted.

Hell, no.

I knew myself. I wasn't into one-night stands or hooks-ups from an app. There was no way I could hook up with one of my bosses, much less three.

"Rosie?" Casey's voice made me turn to face him next to me.

"I can't do this."

"Do what?" Jett's hand gripped my hip a little tighter, almost like he was afraid I was going to run off.

Which I was ready to do.

"This." I stared at Jett's black eyes and wished like hell I would be capable of it.

Maybe if I had met them two years ago, or even one, I would have put my job on the line. Back then, all I had to worry about was myself, and it wasn't like I had lived outside my means.

But reality was a bitch.

My sister didn't count on the money I insisted she take because I knew it helped. If I slept with them, things would get messy. Really messy. My face heated, and Jett's gaze darkened.

"Umm, look, I like you guys and you're amazing, but I need this job." My voice shook and my eyes watered.

I wanted them. My heart wanted them. Who was I kidding? Every fiber of my being wanted them.

Under any other circumstance, I would have been okay with taking anything I could get from them, even scraps of attention. But at the end of the day, no matter what, it would be a mistake.

Stolen moments would never be enough.

I was a greedy, greedy girl.

One of these men would be more than enough for anyone, but there I was, wanting all three. There was no way they would want the same. Not for the long run. My back bumped into one of the men behind me, and my body froze when I felt something very hard poke the small of my back. Maybe the wanting part won"t be an issue?

But what were the chances of the three of them wanting a forever with me?

They might want to share me to pass the time, but there was no way they would want forever. Not with me. I wasn't anyone special. I was just their housekeeper.

"Rosie, baby, we need you to breathe." Mal snapped me out of my head. The thick pads of his fingers tipped my chin up. I did as he asked because for some reason, my traitorous body couldn't seem to argue with him. I breathed in, and when he nodded, silently instructing me, I exhaled. "Good girl," Jett breathed against my forehead. "That's our girl. Just keep breathing. Just like that."

Our girl. I glanced over my shoulder and met his gaze. I knew he could see the million questions in my eyes I was too scared to ask out loud.

"That's our girl," he repeated with such conviction I had to blink away tears.

"I'm not sure I know what's happening but?—"

"You know," Casey gently corrected. I turned my head to stare into his light blue eyes. They were so bright they almost seemed to glow like the blank screen in front of us. "You know. Rosie…" He dipped his head toward me. My eyes naturally fluttered shut, completely ready for his lips to touch mine.

But they didn't.

Instead, I felt his lips press against my cheek. "We like you, baby girl."

"I like you guys," I whispered without opening my eyes. Maybe if I kept them shut, I'd be able to blame the fever I still had for whatever was about to happen next. "I like you a lot but—" I opened my eyes, and all I could see were the three men I had fallen in love with. All I could breathe and touch was them.

It was a lot.

Each one so damn devastatingly handsome. Sweet and generous in their own way. So different and completely out of my league. I wasn't able to say another word when an alarm on someone"s phone went off and they looked at one another above my head.

"My medicine," I whispered and swallowed hard. "I should take that and go to bed." I stepped away, but I should have known better. Casey's hand found mine, and I weakly let him tangle his fingers with mine.

"Come on, I got you." He pulled me closer, and I followed him out of the movie room and into the kitchen.

In silence, the two of us stood next to one another while I took my temperature. I pretended not to notice the way he watched me. Like I was the only thing that existed around him. If I thought through the haze of my fever and achy body, they all watched me that way. They had been doing that a lot longer than since the beginning of this week, too.

Maybe this whole thing isn"t new?

Maybe they are just making a move.

"I wish I could read your thoughts."

"Why?" I asked. The word sounded garbled through the thermometer in my mouth. His lips twitched and his head shook.

"You have this look on your face like something is finally making sense or clicking into place." I pressed my lips closer around the stick, and then it beeped. He took it out and frowned. "A hundred point four." He sighed, and I could see the worry in his gaze. My hand reached for him and squeezed carefully.

"It's dropping," I tried to reassure him, but he scowled.

"It's not gone yet," he muttered. "Maybe we should call a doctor? Maybe?—"

"I'm feeling a lot better," I promised. "I really am. I just have the bug Betsy and Mike had, and they're all better. I just need to get to bed. You''ll see, in the morning, my fever will have broken, and I will be able to get the house back to?—"

"You won't be doing a thing. Fever or not." He didn't let me finish my sentence. "The only thing we want you to do this week is rest. And if you can stomach it, hang out with us."

"Stomach it?"

"You said you liked us." I hadn't expected him to bring it up so bluntly.

"Casey…"

"As friends?"

"Of course, I think of you as my friends. I mean, you guys are my employers but?—"

"No, honey, is that the only way you think you could see us? As friends?"

"Case—" I didn't finish pronouncing his entire name.

"Because you know how we feel about you. You have to know, baby girl." His hand skimmed my cheek before he dropped it. "You gotta take your medicine." He pointed at the liquid he had poured for me in a little measuring cup.

"It knocks me out," I muttered under my breath, and when I glanced up at him, he nodded.

"I know, but it will help you rest," he reminded me. He was right. I just hated falling asleep so hard. I shrugged because I wasn't sure what else I could say. I chugged the medicine down and winced before he handed me a cool glass of water he had waiting for me. The cool liquid felt refreshing, and I was surprised when I finished the entire glass.

"Casey—" I started to say, but he simply winked and reached for my hand like he had earlier. There was a possessiveness to it I hadn't noticed before.

"Time for bed," he ordered and guided me right toward his bedroom, and for some reason, I didn't complain or argue it. I simply followed him and lay down, letting him tuck me right into his body. "Tonight's my turn," he huffed. I yawned before I could ask what he meant.

"You okay?" he asked. "Comfortable? Should I leave a light on or turn the on TV?"

"I'm good." I smiled, pressing my face into his chest.

It was so stupid. Sleeping with each of my bosses, letting myself know what cuddling felt like with them was the stupidest thing I could have done. First with Jett last night and then Malcom during the movie and now with Casey. I should have known better, but I was going to blame it on being sick and not thinking clearly.

If I was right, I would wake up back to normal, and sadly enough, that meant these small moments would come to an end. They had to. My sexy, bossy daddies were just being sweet because I was sick. Liar, a voice whispered. I wasn't sure if I was lying to myself, but I was going to ignore it.

I was going to soak up these moments because I had a feeling simply sleeping next to them had already ruined me for any other men in the future. I would never be the same after this week.

Knowing that and the heartache it would more than likely bring, I still drifted off to another dirty dream where my masked strangers weren't really strangers but my bosses showing me how good being bad could feel.