Page 108 of Crash: Love in Scrubs
And I did. My back lifted off the bed, a sob caught in my throat as I came hard, nails raking down his back. He stayed with me through it, kissing me, reminding me that we in fact had nothing but time.
When I finally opened my eyes, he was holding a box. A beautiful diamond ring sparkled inside. I gasped, my whole body trembling. Eyes leaking. So was my pussy.
“Yes,” I whispered, voice cracking between my sobs. “Yes.”
“You’ll marry me, baby?”
“Yes.” I pulled him in, wrapping my legs around him. Our lips intertwined in a feverish kiss. “I love you.”
He lowered into me, dick moving slowly and going deep. My whole body shuddered as the cool metal slid on my finger. “You just made me the happiest man in the world.”
“Damn,” he muttered, bracing himself on either side of me. “I love you. You never gotta question that.”
He moved with one goal in mind: to drive me crazy. Make me crazy. Make me surrender. His hips grinding into mine, our breath syncing, moans mixing. He kissed me like a man starved, slow, dirty, worshipful. And when he picked up the pace, I held on tight, giving him everything I had, while he gave me all he had. We finally collapsed into each other, spent and tangled in the sheets. I was going to be a wife.
His wife.
The birds chirpedoutside as I stood at the kitchen island, still wearing his oversized Alabama T-shirt from last night. I missed waking up here and in his arms. My hair was damp from the shower, and I couldn’t stop looking down at the beautiful diamond ring on my finger. Every time the light caught it, I had to blink to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
I was engaged. To Malik. The man who’d somehow made me believe in forever again.
I was up before him, something that rarely happened since he was usually an early riser. But last night had worn us both out, and my body had now started getting into mommy mode, because I was up at 7:30 every morning no matter what. He was still sleeping peacefully upstairs; one arm stretched across the space where I’d been lying. I’d kissed his forehead softly before slipping out to start breakfast.
The familiar ritual of cooking helped calm the butterflies in my stomach. Not about the engagement, that felt as right as breathing. That was ordained.Fate. No weapon formed would prosper against that. But about the conversations we needed to have this morning.
Samaj would be coming by. I’d texted him this morning and told him we needed to chat. It was time to tell him about Ashe. That wasn’t going to be easy, even though I knew it was necessary. Or maybe it would be. Samaj seemed to be off the idea of Ashe, and I was getting that vibe before we found out about the extortion.
I was whisking eggs when I heard his footsteps on the stairs. My heart always flipped when I knew he was near, even more so now that we were officially engaged. When he appeared in the doorway, durag managing waves, wearing nothing but black boxer briefs, I had to grip the counter to steady myself.
“Good morning, fiancée,” he said, his voice rough with sleep but his smile bright and satisfied. “I handled it like that?”
“Good morning, future husband,” I replied, unable to keep the grin off my face.
He moved toward me with that predatory gaze I’d come to love, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and pressing a kiss to the side of my neck. “And you know you did.”
“How long you been up?”
“About an hour or so. I wanted to make you breakfast.” I leaned back into his warmth, feeling completely content for the first time in weeks.
“Mmm, what we having?” His hands splayed across my stomach, and I knew he was thinking about our baby.
“Scrambled eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, and toast. Nothing too fancy, but...” I stopped mid-sentence as his hand shot out to move the coffee mug I’d been reaching for.
“Uh-uh. What’s this?” He turned me around in his arms, eyebrows raised.
“Coffee?” I said innocently, though I knew exactly what he was doing.
“Sametra Jonelle, caffeine’s not good for the baby.”
I rolled my eyes playfully. “It’s one cup of coffee, Malik. Pregnant women can have a little caffeine.”
“Define ‘a little,’” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“One cup of coffee is like 95 milligrams. It’s fine.”
“And how much caffeine did you have yesterday?”
I paused, thinking. “I had a Dr. Pepper with lunch, and…”
