Triplets Make Five

“Times flies, I guess.”

I gathered my things from the booth and slid from the seat. I teetered a bit and Preston reached out for me, helping me to steady myself on my feet. I could feel the warmth of his hand radiating through my cardigan as his fingertips pressed into my excess. I looked up into his beautiful peridot eyes as his hand slid down my arm, his fingers gracing mine before he stood up straight.

“Can I give you a ride home?” Preston asked.

“That’s okay. I’m just going to call an Uber,” I said.

“Still sticking with that plan.”

“It’s a good one,” I said. “A reliable one.”

“My car works, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said, grinning.

“It’s not,” I said.

I didn’t want to give into his flirtations. Not just yet. Hell, once I got home and slept this alcohol off, I knew I wouldn’t want his flirtations at all. But right now, with the Manhattans swimming through my veins and his tall, broad, chiseled stature looming over me, the last thing I needed was to get in his car. To be close to him. To be confined with him.

I cleared my throat and lowered my gaze to my phone as I summoned a car.

“Thank you for the drinks,” I said.

“Thank you for the company,” Preston said.

“Um…I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“It’s Saturday,” he said.

“Then, see you Monday,” I said.

“Looking forward to it.”

“Oh! Um…Bernie’s calend-- well, your calendar now-- is synced to mine. You can put meetings in there and stuff and they’ll pop up on my end and I’ll know where to be and what time,” I said.

“I figured as much,” he said.

“And again, thank you for the drinks,” I said as I pushed out of the bar.

I could feel his eyes on me as I stood on the sidewalk. He watched me from the bar as I got into the Uber I had called for. I was glad I had enough wits about me to refuse his car ride. The last thing I needed was some playboy with dreamy eyes knowing where I lived. I needed to go home, flop down in bed with Beethoven, and sleep off all this…stuff. Whatever this was floating around in my system. This feistiness and this gravitational pull he had on me all night.

I had all weekend to get rid of it before Monday came around.

Because come Monday, things had to get professional again.

Six

Preston

I watched Delilah get into the car she rented last night and drive away. No woman had ever done that to me before. Turned me down flat, even after a few drinks. She was strong-willed. Feisty. A massive ball of pent up energy just waiting to explode. I was determined to get her to agree to go on a date with me. I wanted to see what that body would look like in a little black dress. With her calves accented in heels and her wide hips swaying in the breeze. There was nothing better than the excess of a woman beckoning for my rippling muscles to hold her close.

Delilah wasn’t begging yet. But by the time Monday came around she would be.

The shy little girl I thought she was had turned into a ballsy little minx. Meeting my quips tit for tat. She hid behind those cardigans and thick glasses, but inside she was aching to be freed. A mind just waiting for its equal to come along and release it from its cage. The woman was astounding. A pleasant surprise after dealing with the idiots I had to deal with during my first few days at the company. It was pleasing to me that her and I would be working close.

It meant no one would question if we were ever behind closed doors in my office.

But there was a moment at the bar that seemed surprising to me. Not in a shocking way, but in an innocent way. I called her something akin to beautiful, and she seemed genuinely shocked. Like no one had ever called her that before. And if that was true, it was a shame. Because behind those idiotic clothes and that shy demeanor that stuck to the shadows in the office building, she was ravishing. A sight to behold. Laden with curves I wanted to sink my fingers into and pulsing with warmth I wanted wrapped around my cock.

She was beautiful in her own