Chapter 09
Third Person's POV
When Paris arrived home from work, she opened the door to find Jackson greeting her with a facial mask covering most of his face. Dahlia and Paige flanked him on either side, both grinning with obvious satisfaction at their handiwork.
Jackson hesitated, unsure how to properly greet his wife with the mask on his face. Paris noticed his uncertainty and told him it was fine to skip the usual kiss. Instead, Jackson took her work bag and briefcase, setting them aside before wrapping his arms around her in a warm embrace.
"Welcome home," Jackson said softly, his voice slightly muffled by the mask.
"We gave Jackson a mini-makeover," Dahlia explained with obvious pride in their work.
"Sister, do you want one too? I'm really good at face massages!" Paige chimed in enthusiastically, practically bouncing on her feet.
Paris settled onto the sofa with a tired sigh and told them maybe later. She looked exhausted from another long day at the office, her usually perfect posture slightly slumped with fatigue.
"Let Paris rest first," Jackson said gently, bringing her a cup of freshly brewed coffee. He had learned her preferences over the past few weeks—strong, black coffee with just a hint of sugar.
Paris observed the three of them, noting how comfortable and playful they seemed together. There was an easy camaraderie between Jackson and her sisters that she found both endearing and slightly envious of.
"Dahlia, take these two to get enrolled tomorrow," Paris instructed, gesturing toward Paige and Jackson. "And buy your uniforms while you're at it. Classes start in two days."
"Oh right, school starts the day after tomorrow," Jackson said, suddenly remembering. In all the excitement of his new life, college had completely slipped from his mind.
After several minutes, Paige carefully removed Jackson's facial mask. He immediately went to look at himself in the mirror, examining his reflection with hopeful anticipation.
"Why does it look the same? You're still ugly, Jack," Paige teased mercilessly, causing Jackson to lower the mirror in mock defeat.
"Ah, so I'm still ugly," Jackson replied with exaggerated sadness, standing up from his chair.
He chased after both sisters, who were laughing uncontrollably as he tickled them in retaliation for their teasing. Their laughter filled the apartment, creating a warm, familial atmosphere that Paris watched with a mixture of amusement and something deeper—perhaps longing.
"Let's eat dinner now," Jackson announced when their playful chase had ended. "You two go shower first. I'll prepare dinner."
He kissed Paige on the lips first, then turned to do the same with Dahlia. Both sisters seemed reluctant to let him go, creating a small tug-of-war situation until Jackson gently but firmly separated himself from both of them, pushing them playfully toward their respective rooms.
After the sisters left, Jackson let out a long breath and scratched his head, feeling the familiar mixture of affection and overwhelm that came with managing three relationships simultaneously. He approached Paris, who was still sitting on the sofa with her coffee and a stack of papers in her lap.
"You just got home from work and you're already dealing with more work," Jackson observed, reaching for the papers.
Paris looked up at him questioningly as he gently pulled the documents from her hands.
"You need to rest sometimes too," Jackson said with genuine concern. In the weeks he had been living in the apartment, he had noticed one consistent pattern—Paris was a complete workaholic. She never seemed to have a day off, and even when she was home, she always had papers or her laptop in hand.
Paris didn't seem pleased with his interference, so Jackson quickly set the papers aside and apologized. But instead of being angry, Paris exhaled slowly and reached up to cup Jackson's chin, turning his face toward hers.
"My sisters haven't even been gone for two minutes and you're already bored," Paris said with a knowing look.
Jackson's expression grew serious. "I'm not bored. I'm worried about you. I've been here for weeks and I've never seen you actually rest."
He had wanted to say this for a long time but had never found the right opportunity when Paige and Dahlia weren't around to interrupt or distract from serious conversations.
"I don't get tired easily," Paris replied, though her voice lacked conviction. "And I have trouble sleeping anyway."
She leaned closer, bringing her lips near Jackson's ear. Her breath was warm against his skin as she whispered, "If you entertain me tonight, maybe I'll actually be able to fall asleep. How about you come to my room later?"
Jackson's throat went dry, and their eyes met with an intensity that made the air between them feel charged. Paris smiled with satisfaction at his reaction, placing her hand on his cheek before pressing her lips to his in a kiss that tasted of mint and the bitter strength of coffee.
Jackson's hands found her waist, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss, losing himself in the moment until—
"Hey! Save that for later—dinner first!"
Jackson and Paris broke apart to find Dahlia and Paige standing in the doorway, both grinning mischievously at having caught them in their intimate moment.
Jackson immediately stood up, running his hand through his hair in embarrassment while Paris shot her sisters a withering look.
"Jackson tastes better as dessert anyway, sister. One hundred percent guaranteed," Paige said with a thumbs up, completely unashamed of her boldness.
"No allowance for a month," Paris declared as she walked past her sisters with an air of authority.
Both sisters immediately protested, calling the punishment unfair, but Paris had already disappeared down the hallway.
---
After dinner, Paris was the first to retreat to her room. Jackson began clearing the table and washing dishes, with Paige and Dahlia helping him tidy up the kitchen.
"I'm going to my room first tonight," Paige announced with a knowing look. "It seems like I won't get to monopolize you tonight anyway."
She kissed Jackson on the lips, followed immediately by Dahlia. The two sisters began their usual playful argument about who got the better kiss, competing for his attention even in their goodbyes.
Jackson set down the plate he was holding and pulled both sisters close by their waists. He kissed Paige first, long and deep, then turned to give Dahlia the exact same treatment. Finally, he kissed both of them on the forehead and wished them goodnight.
The sisters didn't protest further, seemingly satisfied with the equal attention he had given them. Jackson had learned that when they initiated affection, they wanted everything to be perfectly balanced, but when he took the lead in showing affection, they were content to accept whatever he offered and would leave peacefully.
Jackson cursed under his breath when he noticed the sink was overflowing with soapy water. He quickly turned off the faucet and finished cleaning up the kitchen.
After completing his cleaning duties and taking a quick shower, Jackson found himself standing outside Paris's bedroom door. His hand hovered over the doorknob as uncertainty filled him. Unlike with Dahlia and Paige, who were open and expressive with him, Paris remained somewhat mysterious and intimidating.
"Jack, she's one of your wives," he muttered to himself, patting his own cheek for encouragement. He took a deep breath and opened the door.
Jackson stopped dead in his tracks. The ceiling and walls were covered entirely in mirrors, creating an infinite reflection effect. In the center of the room sat a large black bed that seemed to dominate the space.
He stepped inside, looking around in amazement at the surreal environment. "Paris?" he called out, glancing up at the mirrored ceiling where he could see the entire room reflected back at him.
His attention was diverted when a white door—presumably the bathroom—opened. Paris emerged completely naked, casually toweling her hair dry as if Jackson's presence was entirely expected and unremarkable.
"So you're here," Paris said matter-of-factly, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing her legs with casual confidence.
Jackson forced himself to look away from her body, feeling like he might lose control just from looking at her. The mirrors made it impossible to avoid seeing her from multiple angles, intensifying the effect.
"I'll be disappointed in you if you can't satisfy me," Paris said with the same casual tone she might use to discuss the weather. "I'm not into making love—I prefer rough sex. Like I told you, I have trouble sleeping, so I need you to do everything you can until I pass out from exhaustion."
She paused, studying his reaction before adding, "You don't need to hold yourself back since I'm not a virgin anymore."
Paris had been using sex, drugs, and alcohol as sleep aids for years, but none of them had proven consistently effective. Her insomnia was a constant battle, and she was willing to try anything that might finally give her the rest she desperately needed.
The look in Jackson's eyes changed completely at her words. Without hesitation, he pulled off his t-shirt and stepped closer to Paris, his earlier uncertainty replaced by a determined intensity that matched her own boldness.