Chapter 25 MAKE ME PREGNANT
Chapter 25 MAKE ME PREGNANT
Atarah Klyte
OUR KISS lasted for nearly three full minutes before reality finally struck me.
What the hell, Atarah?
Since when did you allow yourself to be kissed senseless by that infuriating man? Where had your modesty gone? What happened to the dignified Filipina you always prided yourself on being?
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re the only man I know who can engage in a torrid kiss with a woman you’re not even officially courting.”
My traitorous lips were to blame.
Every time Rare’s mouth touched mine, my body responded before my mind could object. The moment his lips claimed mine, I kissed him back without hesitation.
Damn desire.
Rare only grinned, his expression smug as he checked the flow of my dextrose. “I’m not courting you,” he reminded me, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. “This is all for the show, remember?”
Right.
Our fake courtship.
I folded my arms across my chest. “Fine. Then you’re a man who indulges in torrid kisses with a woman who is neither your girlfriend nor the woman you’re pursuing.”
The nerve of him.
The sheer audacity of this man to kiss me as though he had every right to do so. And yet, if I was being honest, I was equally at fault. I allowed him to. Worse, I welcomed it.
“Why not?” he asked, raising one perfect brow. “Is that a crime?”
“Of course it is.” I shot him a glare. “I’m not easy to get, Rare. I’m not some cheap woman.”
His teasing expression softened.
“No,” he said quietly, his gaze lingering on my face in a way that made my pulse skip. “You’re not.”
The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard.
He stepped closer and lowered his voice.
“You’re far too beautiful to ever be that.”
My breath hitched.
Rare tilted his head, studying my flushed face with infuriating satisfaction.
“But ask yourself this, baby… if you truly hated my kisses, why do you always kiss me back?”
Heat flooded my cheeks so quickly that I had to look away.
“Tch.” I tried to sound dismissive. “I was carried away by the moment.”
That was true.
No matter how much I protested, my body betrayed me every time he touched me. His kisses awakened sensations I had never felt with anyone else.
Rare sat beside my bed again, his shoulders brushing mine.
“That’s exactly my point,” he murmured. “You wanted it too. If you didn’t, you could’ve pushed me away. Slapped me.”
He was right.
My mind wanted to resist him. My body, however, craved the dizzying warmth only Rare could ignite.
I glared at him and pointed to my lips. “Remember this, jerk. You will never taste these lips again.”
He leaned back, looking utterly unconvinced.
“Really?”
“Yes, jerk! Now get out.”
His smile only widened.
“I can do whatever I want.”
Then he lowered his voice to a provocative whisper.
“I could make love to you right here, right now.”
My jaw dropped.
“Fuck you, Rare!” I snapped, my voice rising. “Pervert! As if I’d ever agree to that!”
The man was impossible. He tilted his head, eyes glittering with wicked amusement.
“Then should I force you?”
My heart lurched.
“God, you’re disgusting! Get out before I call the police!”
For a second, he simply stared at me.
Then he burst into laughter.
The rich sound filled the room, warm and reckless.
“You’re adorable when you’re angry,” he said, wiping at the corner of his eye. “I’m kidding, baby.”
Baby.
The word sent an embarrassing flutter through my chest.
I rolled my eyes. “Ha. Ha. Very funny. Not even a good joke! So disrespectful.”
Rare leaned closer, his lips curving into a devastating smile.
“I’m sorry, I want to offer my lips to apologize l
I grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at him.
“You are insufferable!”
He caught the pillow effortlessly, laughing.
“You say that now,” he teased, lowering his voice to a husky murmur. “But I distinctly remember you whispering… ‘Oh baby, it’s huge. Please be gentle.’”
My entire face burst into flames.
“Rare!” I shrieked. “Stop!”
He bit his lower lip, his eyes dark with mischief.
“I’m just repeating your exact words.”
“You’re impossible! You’re annoying as f-cl!
He finally relented, though his grin remained.
“All right. I’ll stop.” He studied me with shameless affection. “Besides, you look like the cutest angry bird I’ve ever seen.”
I crossed my arms, still fuming.
“You’re a licensed doctor,” I said. “And yet you act like—”
“Like what?”
He leaned in, his face suddenly inches from mine.
“I don’t care what anyone thinks.”
His voice dropped.
“Did you care about dignity when you begged me to get you pregnant?”
I covered my burning face with both hands.
“I was drunk!”
His laughter softened into something dangerously tender.
“Baby,” he whispered, gently pulling my hands away from my face, “you’re breathtaking when you blush.”
For one suspended moment, neither of us moved.
His thumb brushed over my knuckles.
The teasing in his eyes faded, replaced by something warmer. Deeper.
Something real.
“Tch,” I muttered, unable to meet his gaze. “Stop teasing me. We’re not even close. I didn’t like you from the beginning.”
Rare smiled—the kind of smile that reached his eyes and stole the air from my lungs.
“That’s what you keep telling yourself.”
Then he leaned forward and pressed the softest kiss to my forehead.
A kiss so gentle, so unexpectedly reverent, that my heart stuttered.
“But your lips,” he whispered against my skin, “have been telling me a very different story.”
___
“WHAT ARE you feeling right now?”
My mother’s voice trembled as she sat beside my hospital bed, tears pooling in her eyes. I glanced briefly at Dad, who stood near the window with a rigid posture and an unreadable expression on his face.
He was still angry.
“I’m fine,” I said coldly. “Don’t worry.”
Rare had left earlier for St. Calisha Medical Center because of an emergency case, while Mikee had stepped outside to give my parents and me some privacy.