Page 9 of Four Fiances & I

His lips crash into mine as he stands, lifting me with him. I wrap my legs around his waist as I start laughing.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To give you the guided tour of the suite,” he announces, walking back through the bedroom door and into a sitting area. He carries me over to the table and picks up two champagne flutes. “Hold these, please.” I take them quickly before placing my arms back around his neck.

“This is the sitting area; you won’t be seeing much of this,” he winks before turning to a curtain on the right. “That’s the door to the balcony, where I may let you sit out later. I need to see how private it is first.” He looks down between our naked bodies and smiles. “I haven’t decided if I will let you get dressed yet.” Our eyes lock for a moment, and I smile.

“I’m not sure I will let you get dressed either.” A devious grin appears on his face, and I can’t help but laugh. Maximus marches us to the coffee table, picking up an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne before returning to the bedroom. I wait to be thrown on the bed, but he walks past it and to another door.

“This is one of the main reasons I wanted to bring you here.”

I look around and realise we are in a massive bathroom with a huge tub, which is floor-level. It’s filled with water and lots of bubbles; the air smells amazing.

“I want to go in there!” I cry excitedly. Maximus laughs and walks us over to the tub.

“I had them fill it ready for us, and it’s temperature controlled so it won't be cold.” He walks us into the water and sits with me still on his lap. The water is warm, and I instantly melt into my amazing man.

“This is perfect,” I sigh as he kisses the top of my head.

“No, Shorty, you are perfect, and I can’t wait to spend this time just you and me.” I lift my head and look into his eyes as a smile spreads across my face.

“Neither can I.”

ChapterFour

JASMINE

“Thank you,” I whisper, taking another glass of champagne from Maximus.

We are sitting in the huge tub together. I’m between his legs, leaning back against his chest, feeling more relaxed than I have in ages.

This is what I needed, whatweneeded. I try not to spend more time with one of the guys than the others, and I don’t have favourites. I love each of them in their own way. But sometimes, I just want to hide away with one of them and not get interrupted or even see the others. It always feels like I have to keep everyone happy, which can be exhausting sometimes.

“Do you ever regret it?” The question slips from my lips before I’m even sure I want to ask it.

“Regret what?” Maximus asks, wrapping his arms around me.

“Agreeing to share what we have with the others,” I ask nervously.

“No, Shorty, I don’t regret it,” he replies, kissing my cheek. “Do I wish we could get more time alone like this? Sure, we all do. But I would never make you choose between me and my brothers. I wouldn’t do that to you or them.”

I nod while trying to push all the worries to the back of my mind, but I’m struggling for some reason.

“Doyouregret it?” he asks, turning slightly so he is looking at me.

“No.” I’m unable to hide the sadness in my voice.

“You don’t sound so sure. What’s the matter?”

“I’m scared,” I admit out loud for the first time in a while.

“Of what? Us?”

“No. Well, yes, but not in the way I think you are thinking,” I’m rambling, I know it. Taking a deep breath, I try to pick out the right words. “I’m scared one or more of you will regret it and leave. I’m worried that me marrying Christian legally is going to make the rest of you feel like I have a different relationship with him than the rest of you.”

“But you do have a different relationship with him,” Maximus answers, taking me by surprise. I turn my head to look at him, expecting to see him angry or upset, but he's smiling. “You have a different relationship with each of us, and we all know that. We know you don’t love one of us more than the others, but we also know that you need us for different things, and we are all okay with that.” Maximus takes my drink off me and turns me around so I’m straddling his lap, facing him.

“You don’t need to be the one to worry that we will leave you, Shorty. We are the ones that have to worry aboutyouleavingus,” he says softly, running his knuckles down my cheek. I open my mouth to argue, but he shakes his head, stopping me. “Let me finish.” He watches me momentarily as if waiting for me to continue arguing before continuing.

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