Page 120 of Hard to Resist

I rush to it and pull out my phone which is, as I suspected, on three percent battery. Not even a second later, the screen turns black, dying. I cluck my tongue, deciding to go in search of a charger.

I really wish I’d thought about this last night.

I spot a cord plugged into a very fancy coffee machine next to his stove. I get my phone charging before eying the contraption.

A pair of warm hands circles my waist and lies against the soft flesh at my hips. Cullen drops a kiss on the crown of my head.

“Seeing you in my shirt has me wanting to bend you over that island and fuck you all over again.”

My thighs squeeze together, but I angle my head to the side and cock a brow.

“Not happening.”

“Coffee, then?”

“Sure.”

He lets me go and I step to the side, resting my hip on the marble countertop as I watch him place a pod in the machine.

He’s forgone a shirt, wearing just a pair of black slacks. Girls normally say that there’s nothing sexier than a guy in sweatpants, but I really think the truth of the matter is that there is nothing sexier than a guy when he is shirtless. His dark hair is still a little wet at the nape of his neck, but he’s styled it so the long hair on top is slicked back in that classic Ivy League way he normally does.

Some primal part of me wants to nuzzle my cheek along his stubble and inhale the cologne he has just spritzed on.

My phone buzzes, stopping me from doing so.

I palm the device, inputting my code before checking my notifications. There is nothing glaringly obvious that needs my attention, thankfully, so I switch to Hannah’s contact and check to see where she is. She typically works from home for the first few hours on Fridays, the only reprieve she really allows herself.

The map shows her at our apartment, but it also shows me where I am in respect to her location.

My brows furrow.

Little puzzle pieces start to slot into place, but the picture that is forming has me slightly confused. I click out of the app and check my map instead, zooming in on my location and its surroundings. The realization starts to take root.

I slam my phone back on the countertop and sprint to the large floor-to-ceiling windows, plastering myself against the glass as I stare outside.

Mother. Fucker.

There, in the distance, is the very same building I spend half my work meetings staring at.

“Enjoying the view?”

Cullen joins me and hands me a small coffee cup.

I accept it with narrowed eyes.

“This is where you live?”

“Yeah.” He takes a sip from his mug.

“No, likethisapartment complex is where you sleep every night and wake up every morning.”

“Yeah, I moved in a few weeks back. Didn’t I mention it to you?”

“You did.”

“Then why are you frowning?” He rubs the tense skin between my brows.

“Because this is nowhere near where I live.”

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