Chapter 32 MAKE ME PREGNANT
Chapter 32 MAKE ME PREGNANT
“Well, what else am I supposed to think? You’re still hung up on my sister. I’ve told you before—you should move on and find someone without complications.”
I rinsed another spoon and glanced at him.
“Have you even had another girlfriend after Ate?”
His answer was immediate.
“No one.”
I blinked.
For some reason, that surprised me more than it should have.
In a strange way, we were alike.
I hadn’t dated anyone seriously since my breakup with Charl.
“Wow,” I said softly. “Tell me about the two of you.”
After washing the last dish, I dried my hands and sat at the kitchen counter, resting my chin on my palms as I looked at him expectantly.
He continued rinsing the plates without meeting my eyes.
“No.”
I tilted my head.
“Please?”
“No.”
“Just one story.”
“Still no.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
“I’ll kiss you.”
The moment I said it, my eyes widened.
Heat rushed to my cheeks. Did I really just say that? I wanted to crawl under the floor and never come back.
Rare turned to me slowly, a wicked smile spreading across his face.
“Sure,” he said. “Kiss me first, and I’ll tell you everything.”
I rolled my eyes and stood. I leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
There.
A simple, harmless kiss.
I was not weak. I was merely… gathering information. For family purposes.
When I pulled away, I noticed that he was pouting.
Actually pouting.
His lower lip was pushed out like a sulking child.
And, annoyingly enough, it was absurdly adorable.
I narrowed my eyes.
“What is that face?”
He tapped his lips with one finger.
“I want it here, baby.”
I stared at him.
“What the hell, Rare Cedrick? Absolutely not.”
He shrugged and reached for a towel to dry his hands.
“Then I guess I’m not telling you.”
I groaned dramatically.
“Fine!”
Before I could lose my nerve, I stepped closer and pressed a quick, soft kiss to his lips.
Just a tiny smack. Nothing more. A strategic decision. Definitely not because my heart was racing.
Rare’s expression transformed instantly into one of smug satisfaction.
Before I could pull away, Rare Cedrick caught my wrist. With one swift movement, he drew me back to him.
A startled gasp escaped my lips as he lifted me effortlessly and set me on the kitchen counter as though I weighed nothing at all.
My eyes widened.
“Rare—”
I never got the chance to finish.
His hands came to rest on either side of me, caging me in. His dark eyes searched mine for the briefest moment, giving me just enough time to realize that the playful expression he had worn a second ago was gone.
In its place was something deeper.
Something intense. Something that made my heart pound so hard I was certain he could hear it.
Then he kissed me.
Not the quick, innocent smack I had intended to give him. Not the teasing peck I thought would satisfy his ridiculous demands.
This kiss was entirely different.
It was warm and lingering, as though he had been waiting far too long for this moment and now had no intention of wasting it.
There was hunger in the way his lips moved against mine.
But there was tenderness, too.nA quiet, unmistakable passion that stole every coherent thought from my mind.
My fingers instinctively curled around the front of his shirt.
I could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath the thin fabric, strong and unwavering, while mine raced wildly in response. And I’m feeling hot!
Rare kissed me like a man who had been starving for years and had finally found the one thing capable of satisfying him.
And yet there was nothing reckless about it.
No force. No urgency meant to overwhelm.
Only a depth of feeling so honest and overwhelming that it left me breathless.
The world around us seemed to disappear. The dishes. The running water. The television humming softly in the background.
Everything faded until there was nothing left but the warmth of his mouth, the firmness of his hands against my waist, and the dizzying realization that this was no longer a game.
When he finally pulled away, our foreheads rested together.
His breathing was uneven.
So was mine.
His thumb brushed gently across my cheek as his gaze searched my face.
When he spoke, his voice was low and rough, filled with an emotion that sent another shiver down my spine.
“That,” he whispered, a small, satisfied smile curving his lips, “is what I wanted.”
“Good girl,” he murmured, smiling like he had just won the lottery. “Now, where would you like me to begin?”
I jumped down from the sink. Oh god! I feel like I want more. I want him.
“Tss,” I muttered, trying to ignore the warmth in my cheeks as we walked to the living room. “How long were you and my sister together?”
“Two years.”
We sat on the couch. He leaned back against the cushions, while I turned toward him completely, giving him my full attention.
“Really? How old were you?”
“I was fifteen,” he said. “Akisha was fourteen.”
My eyes widened.
“That young?”
He smiled faintly.
“How did you meet?”