Page 24 of Triplet Trouble For My Billionaire Boss

She's eyeing the obvious bulge in my pants, and I can't help but wonder if she's thinking about tasting me, too.

As if sensing my thoughts, her gaze snaps back up to meet mine.

There's a flush on her cheeks that I know isn’t from her orgasm.

It’s kind of endearing actually—that she can fuck my fingers so enthusiastically and, somehow, still be shy.

"You didn't—um."

"Not yet," I say.

She bites her lip, her eyes flicking to my lap and back to my face.

"Not yet?" she says, a shy note in her tone.

I put my hands under her thighs and stand, holding her against me.

She gasps at the sudden movement and clutches me with her arms and legs.

"What are you—"

I walk out of the office and into the hallway.

She's clinging to me, her breath coming in short gasps.

"Where are we going?"

"Bed" is all I say.

Chapter Eight

Annie

The weight of his hands on my waist sends my thoughts into a spiral. I can’t believe this is happening. His touch is searing, his lips firm against mine, and for a moment, all I can focus on is the way he’s making me feel—breathless, overwhelmed, and alive.

We stumble into his room, the door clicking shut behind us. The space is dimly lit, but I barely notice. My focus is on Cole, on the heat radiating from him, on the way his fingers tighten on my hips, pulling me closer.

This isn’t just anyone. It’s Cole Wagner.

Cold, distant Cole Wagner.

Impossibly gorgeous Cole Wagner.

My boss, Cole Wagner.

The thought jerks through me like a bolt of lightning, but then his lips trail down my neck, and I lose my grip on reality all over again.

My hands slide up his chest, feeling the firm planes of muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt. He’s tall and broad,his presence overwhelming in every way. I don’t know what I’m doing, only that I don’t want him to stop.

But I also know I need him to.

I’m shaking, my body pressed against his as he walks us toward the bed. My heart is pounding so hard it’s all I can hear, drowning out the sound of my own thoughts.

Thoughts that are screaming at me to stop.

“Wait,” I manage to whisper, but it’s barely audible, and he doesn’t hear me.

Or maybe he does, and he’s choosing to ignore it.

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