Page 11 of Triplet Babies for the Billionaire
I close my eyes, pressing my palms to my face.
The subway train screeches as it slows to a stop, and I know one thing for sure: I’m in way deeper than I thought.
Chapter Four
Noah
I finish up the last of my emails, checking over a few reports and confirming tomorrow's meetings. The office is quiet, the city sounds faint in the background. I sigh as I hit send on the last one, mentally shutting down for the day.
I leave my office and head for the elevator, pressing the button, my mind spinning. That damn kiss. That damn night. I can’t get it out of my head. Every time I think about it, a new wave of tension washes over me.
I knowsheknows.
I know I’m her boss now, and it’s not supposed to be this way.
What if she says something?
What if she’s angry?
What if she tries to make something out of it? It’s so easy to imagine her walking into HR, talking about how she sleptwith me, and the scandal that would follow. It could destroy everything: my reputation, the hotel, the company’s image.
But then, I stop myself.
Blossom’s not like that.
She wasn’t looking for a job here when we were together.
We slept together before she ever worked at the hotel.
I take a deep breath as the elevator doors slide open, the familiar hum of the ride making me feel even more trapped in my thoughts. I try to push it all out of my mind, but I can’t help it.
All I can think about is her: her smile, her laugh, her eyes.
The way her soft pussy felt against my hard cock.
She’s getting under my skin, and I’m not sure how to stop it.
I step off the elevator into the quiet of my penthouse, the door closing softly behind me. My place is exactly how I like it: spacious, modern, full of sleek lines and clean surfaces.
But tonight, it feels empty.
The floor-to-ceiling windows provide an unmatched view of Manhattan’s skyline, towering buildings, glowing lights, everything sparkling in the distance.
I stand there for a while, just staring, trying to clear my mind. But all I can see is Blossom.
It’s been days since we worked together, but I haven’t stopped thinking about her. I’ve kept my distance, kept things professional, but it’s harder than I expected.
She’s not like the other women I’ve been with for a single night since Whittney’s death.
There’s something different about her.
Something...real.
Something that pulls at me in a way I can’t explain.
I’ve spent so long keeping people at arm’s length, keeping my emotions locked down, but with her...it’s like I’ve forgotten how to do that.
Every time I see her, hear her laugh, catch a glimpse of that warm smile, I feel like something inside me cracks open just a little more.
