Page 16 of Oops Baby for the Billionaire (Oops Baby #3)

Roman

After that emotional overload, Willa seems grateful to escape to have a bath. I go across the street to Thorne International to get my laptop and some files I wanted to review tonight.

Returning to the Techbridge penthouse feels like coming home in a more profound way than I expected, even after revealing to Willa how I felt about this apartment after we met.

Now I understand that I didn’t want to be alone that night.

I wanted to be with her .

Deep down, I knew that even before I found her. Even before we met, something propelled me to acquire this company, this building, to get me to her.

Returning tonight is the same feeling.

Like I’m coming home to her.

The door to the bedroom is closed, so I settle on the oversized couch in the living room. The Asian markets are open, so I check in with the Hong Kong office, then deal with my inbox.

The first thing I do is fire off a quick email to the investigator I hired earlier in the afternoon. I don’t need any more information dug up about Willa. Everything I need to know about her, I will learn from her.

Then I go to the CurateMe website. I think about what I overheard in their offices. How she thinks wealthy people fundamentally look at art differently than working class people.

Would young Roman Thorne recognize me? That dishwashing hustler, intent on covering his body with tattoos?

But then I spent my next five hundred bucks saved on a real estate license instead, and the rest is history.

Now I buy art because it’s a good investment, and I haven’t thought about putting any on my skin in literally two decades.

Soft footsteps come down the hallway, and Willa appears, wrapped in an oversized towel.

Her hair is damp, even darker than usual, and her legs are bare. She looks young and vulnerable.

I shouldn’t feel a pulse of awareness, a deep dug of arousal…but I do. Fuck me, I do.

“Hi.” I sound turned on, because I am. Danger.

She shifts restlessly. “Are you working?”

I set the laptop aside. “Not anymore. Do you want to talk?”

She shrugs. A flush creeps up her neck. No, she doesn’t want to talk. “I thought you might want to help me dry off?”

“Want to? God, yes,” I say thickly as she crosses to me. “But I can’t let lust cloud my judgement tonight.”

She climbs onto my lap. I don’t stop her. She smiles. “Your lust? Or mine?”

“Both.” I let myself hold her, but I keep my hands on top of her towel. Even though I know full well she’s naked underneath it. “I want to build something with you. Something strong and lasting. Forever. I got carried away that night?—”

“We both did.”

“And we can’t repeat that tonight.”

“Why not? We’ve already done it once.” Her face falls. “Wasn’t it good?”

“Good? Fuck, Willa. It was incredible. Too good. You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

“Then why?—”

“Because I’m twice your age. I’m your boss. You’re pregnant and dependent on me.” I let go of her and rake my hands through my hair, loosening it from the tight knot it’s been in all day. “It would be wildly inappropriate to take advantage of any of that.”

“I’m not asking you to take advantage. I’m asking you to—“ She breaks off, blushing furiously. Then she screws up her face and reaches for my loosened hair. “Please, Roman.”

It’s hard to think when she works her fingers through the strands, all the way to my scalp.

Hard, but not impossible.

“If you can’t say it, Willa, we can’t do it.”

“I want you to touch me,” she whispers, more boldly than I expect. “I know today was a lot, and I’ve been a rollercoaster of emotions. But I need… I feel…”

Her pupils dilate, and her pulse flutters in her throat.

“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur.

She anchors herself to me, holding on to my hair, and she brings her mouth down on mine.

As we kiss, her towel falls away.

I fill my hands with her bare skin. Her soft upper arms, her strong back. Her round ass, the belly I gave her, and then her breasts.

Even while we kiss, I can feel that they’re fuller now.

And more sensitive, the way she arches her back as soon as I touch them.

My cock throbs to get at her, weeping at the tip with seed that would put another baby in her if she weren’t already pregnant.

One fuck.

That’s all it took.

Her first, and I bred her.

And I would do it again.

“Fuck,” I growl against her lips. “Willa, we have to stop.”

“I don’t want to,” she pants.

“I don’t want to, either, gorgeous.” I moan as I ease her back, pulling her lips away from mine—but also pressing her weight more firmly on my throbbing erection.

And putting her breasts right in front of me, two lush globes of straining, needy feminine flesh. Visible veins lace under pale skin, creating a map begging to be explored with my fingers, my mouth.

“I know you need a release. I can feel it in the hot pulse of your pussy, grinding on top of me. But I think that tonight, you should go to bed alone.”

She pouts.

And it’s so fucking sexy I can barely handle it.

I’m resolved, though. “You are wanted. You are beautiful. But we have tomorrow, Willa. And the day after that and all the days after that. Can you be a good girl for me and go to bed? You can touch yourself and hate me if you want.”

“I can’t hate you.”

“Stroke that pretty pussy and dream of the future.”

“Will you…” Her gaze falls to my erection, straining at the front of my suit pants. The fabric is no match for how much I desire her.

“No,” I say hoarsely. “That’s yours, I promise. But not tonight. I won’t touch myself until you are ready for me to share your bed for the rest of our lives.”

She opens her mouth to protest or promise something I can’t let her give me. Not yet.

I press my finger to her pretty lips. “And you need to sleep on the idea of that before you promise me something you might regret tomorrow.”

Her eyes flare, sharp and frustrated.

But there’s also understanding there. Slowly, she nods against my finger.

Then, because she’s a cheeky girl, she pops her lips open and latches on to the tip of my finger, sucking for a glorious second before letting go.

“Okay, Mister,” she says brightly.

Not Mr. Thorne.

Just mister .

And blood roars through my ears.

“Is this a bad time to tell you that I actually liked calling you Mr. Thorne before?” She smiles innocently. “And when it made you mad…that was hot.”

Jesus. I’ve created a monster.

“Go to bed, Willa. Make yourself come.” I tighten my hold on the towel. “I think you’re dry enough. I’ll keep this.”

She slides off me, naked as a jaybird.

Hungrily, I watch her walk away.

She pauses just before disappearing around the corner and glances back at me.

Everything in me aches to follow her.

I stay where I am.

“Good night, gorgeous.”

I wait for the sound of her door to close, but it doesn’t come.

Pulse pounding, I drop my head back and wait.