His Regret Arrived Three Days Late novel Chapter 162

Through a hazy, drunken blur, Annika saw Conrad standing by the window, smoking and talking on the phone. She pushed her weak, aching body up. “Who was that?”

“No one,” Conrad said, tossing the phone aside and pressing back down on top of her. He had already worked up a sweat, and now his scorching skin was searing hers again.

Annika found it unbearable and began to push him away, but her resistance only seemed to ignite the passion in his dark eyes, stoking the embers in every one of his cells. With a swallow, he lowered his head and kissed her again.

The soft whimper that escaped her lips was like an accelerant, and he deepened the kiss with sudden force.

...

Annika woke to sunlight streaming through the glass, so bright it made her pupils contract sharply. Her entire body ached as if it had been run over by a truck, and fragmented memories of the previous night flashed through her mind.

She had slept with Conrad!

As the reality of it sank in, a jolt of alarm shot through her. She sat bolt upright, her eyes scanning the room, but there was no sign of him.

He must have gone to the office, she thought, cursing herself and the damn alcohol.

As she got up, she saw their clothes scattered across the floor, a testament to the intensity of the night before. Her face flushed bright red.

She quickly gathered her clothes, pulled them on, and ran a hand through her hair. She was heading downstairs, phone in hand to call Conrad, still fixated on Monroe’s supposed sore throat.

She stopped herself from dialing when she saw him. The man who had kept her up all night was sitting at the dining table, calmly eating breakfast. Dressed in a black shirt and black pants, he looked cool, composed, and devastatingly handsome—and infuriatingly refreshed.

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