Secret Dirty Santa by Yumoyori Wilson

SHIT.
What do you get your arrogant jerk of a boss when you get him for secret Santa? The spending limit is $35, Elle, so the latest gizmo isn’t going to work. I wouldn’t be able to afford it if there wasn’t a cap, and let’s be real, billionaire Matthias Felton probably has it already.
Why did he even ask to join Secret Santa in the first place? He has everything he could ask for! Multiple mansions, parking lots full of the luxurious cars, and did I mention his looks are to die for? Literally, to DIE for.
Oh, and his two other billionaire business friends? They make every woman in the building regret wearing panties. Why wear them if they’ll be wet with arousal by the time the triple threat of sexiness exits the building.
What’s Matthias’ endgame? Who fucking knows.
Yet, silly me. I ask him at our Christmas party because my tipsy, pretty much drunk alter ego had balls that night and wasn’t going to leave until I got the answer my ears yearned for.
He finally tells me, and I realize I’m not wanted by one, but three.
Matthias, Logan, Titus wants me, and now I wonder if I can get out of this Secret Santa fiasco before it gets a little dirty.