Page 68 of Triplet Babies for Pucking Christmas

“You loved it,” he teases, standing to kiss my shoulder.

“Maybe,” I admit, my voice soft.

He grins, pulling me under the spray of water. “Good. Now shut up and let me take care of you.”

The water cascades over us, washing away the soap and any lingering soreness. Jamie’s hands roam my body, his touch becoming less about cleaning and more about exploring.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he says, his voice rough as his lips find the curve of my neck.

I shiver, pressing closer to him. “Jamie…”

“Shh,” he murmurs, his hands sliding to my hips. “Let me.”

Before I know it, he’s pinning me against the cool tiles, his body pressed against mine. The contrast of heat and cold sends a thrill through me, making my breath hitch.

His mouth crashes against mine, hot and demanding, and I cling to his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he mutters, his lips moving down my neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

My laugh turns into a gasp as he grips my hips, lifting me easily. “Jamie…”

“Shh,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of promise. “Just enjoy this.”

I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling the strength of him as he aligns us. And then he’s there, filling me in one smooth thrust that steals the air from my lungs.

The water pounds down, mingling with the sounds of our ragged breaths and soft moans. My fingers tangle in his wet hair as he moves, his rhythm steady and sure.

“Jamie…” I breathe, my head falling back against the tiles.

“Look at me,” he demands, his voice rough.

I force my eyes open, meeting his intense gaze. His jaw is tight, his eyes blazing as he watches me fall apart under him.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against mine.

The world narrows to just him—the heat of his body, the strength of his hands, and the way he knows exactly how to leave me completely undone.

When the end comes, it’s like a wave crashing over me, pulling me under. Jamie holds me steady, his forehead resting against mine as he follows, his breath ragged in my ear.

We stay there for a moment, the water cooling around us as our breathing slows.

“Okay,” I finally say, my voice shaky but teasing. “Now you’re just showing off.”

Jamie laughs, pulling back to look at me. “Damn right I am.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he says, kissing me one last time before setting me back on my feet.

I grab the towel he hands me, wrapping it around myself as he steps out to dry off.

“Come on,” he says, flashing me that mischievous grin again. “Let’s see if Troy’s made coffee yet.”

I’m still flushed when I make it to the kitchen. My hair is damp, wrapped up in a messy bun, and I’ve thrown on one of Troy’s oversized hoodies. The fabric smells like him—woodsy and warm.

Troy’s in the living room with Noah, who’s babbling at his toys while Troy adjusts a small blanket around him. Jamie’staken off to grab his gear for practice, leaving me to figure out breakfast.

“Pickles,” I mumble, pulling the jar from the fridge. It’s not the most conventional snack, but my stomach growls, and I grab one before grabbing the eggs and bread.

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