Page 149 of By His Rule

Maybe you do get what you pay for when it comes to cologne…

I frown as I step into my living area. The curtains are shut.

I didn’t come in here last night, and I know I didn’t close them before Kian picked me up for the gala. I hardly ever close them. Not since Tate left. Having them open and being able to see other people living their lives inside their own apartments on the other side of the road makes me feel a little less lonely.

On edge, my next steps come slower, but the second I turn toward the couch, I understand exactly why the room is in darkness despite the fact the sun is up.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I shriek, finding a man stretched out, fast asleep on my couch.

A decent person would probably leave them to sleep. But fuck that.

Why is he still here?

I told him to leave.

I thought he had left. I heard the front door close behind his irritating ass.

“Shit,” Kian croaks, lifting his hands to rub his eyes.

“Yeah, fucking shit,” I mutter, marching toward the windows and throwing the curtains open, flooding the room with light.

The rain pounding against the windows makes my heart sink, but I don’t have time to mourn the loss of the morning run I was yearning for.

“Fucking hell, woman,” he grunts.

By the time I spin around, he’s pushed himself up so he’s sitting, letting the blanket—my blanket—that he was using to cover him slip down to his waist, revealing his naked torso.

Fuck my life.

As much as I fight to keep my eyes on his face, I fail badly.

And holy cow am I glad I do because my boss is fine.

I already knew he was cut. It’s obvious even when he’s clothed. But Christ, my imagination failed me with this one.

He clears his throat, forcing my eyes back up to his before throwing the blanket off and pushing to his feet.

An alarm instantly begins ringing in my head.

He is wearing gray joggers.

Gray joggers.

Lifting my eyes to the ceiling for a beat, I pray for strength.

He is not playing fair here.

Sculpted chest. Defined abs. That perfect fucking V that sinks to…

Oh my god, he’s hard.

“You should be in your own apartment right now,” I say firmly, spinning on the balls of my feet and striding toward the kitchen.

I already needed coffee. Now, I need it possibly more than I ever have in my life.

“I needed to know that you were okay.”

I suck in a sharp breath at the concern I hear in his voice.

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