Page 96 of Crash: Love in Scrubs
“I said sorry,” she whined tempting me to go back on what I’d just said.
“I heard you. I forgive you.” I pressed a soft kiss to that sensitive spot just below her earlobe, feeling her pulse jump under my lips. “Baby. My patience is running out. Fast.”
I turned her gently, my hands steady on her waist as I guided her around to face me. Her back hit the cold metal of the locker with a soft thud, and she gasped at the contrast of the steel against her heated skin. Her eyes searched mine, wide and questioning, trying to read what came next in my expression.
“You risked this body for a thrill,” I said, my voice low and reverent as I sat on the bench in front of her. Nothing mattered except her, except reminding her what she meant to me. “Tsk, Tsk, Tsk.”
A sharp intake of breath echoed off the tile walls as I pressed a tender kiss to the slope of her belly. Right where our baby was growing. Right where life was happening because of what we’d created together. I dragged my palms along her thighs, rough hands against smooth skin, spreading them just enough to make room for my shoulders. I took my time, because this wasn’t just about pleasure, it wasn’t just about making her cum, she’d do that too. This was about reminding her who saw her, who protected her, who adored every inch of her reckless, brilliant, stubborn ass.
“You still mine?” I asked, tilting my head back to lock eyes with hers from below. I needed to hear it. Needed the words.
She nodded, trembling, her lips parted, but no sound came out.
“Nah, baby. Say it. I need to hear you say it.”
“I’m yours,” she whispered, voice breaking. “Always. I’m always yours.”
“That’s right. Don’t forget it again.”
I pulled her leg over my shoulder, feeling the weight of her thigh against my back, and lowered my mouth to the place where she was already wet, already aching for me even if she’d never admit it out loud.
I kissed her like I was trying to apologize with my tongue for every hard word, every moment of separation, every second she’d doubted what she meant to me. I kissed her like I was trying to soothe every jagged edge she’d been carrying around for the past week. My tongue moved slowly at first, lazy,strokes that made her knees buckle and her hands scramble for something to hold onto. Then faster, more insistent, reading the language of her body like I’d written it myself.
I held her steady with one arm wrapped around her waist, fingers splayed across the small of her back, the other hand gripping her thigh, not letting her run from the intensity of what I was giving her. She tried to stay quiet. But when her hand finally tangled in my beard, tugging just hard enough to make me groan against her, and that first moan ripped from her throat like it had been building for days, I smiled against her sweetness.
“Yeah,” I murmured between strokes, my voice muffled but clear in its intent. “Let go, MiMi. Stop fighting.”
Her taste flooded my senses, familiar and addictive, like coming home after being lost. I could feel her getting closer, could read the signs in the way her breathing changed, became more erratic, the way her fingers tightened in my beard, the way her hips started moving against my mouth let me knowshe couldn’t help herself, the tidal wave she’d been fighting was about to win.
And when she came, legs trembling around my shoulders, voice caught somewhere between a sob and a scream that she tried to muffle with her free hand, I held her through every aftershock, pressing gentle kisses along the inside of her thighs as her breathing slowly returned to normal. I could feel her heartbeat gradually slowing under my lips, could taste the evidence of how much she’d missed this, missed me.
I rose to my feet slowly, my heart full with everything I still felt but hadn’t said. I was grateful that even with everything still broken between us, we got toshare this moment of connection. She reached for me immediately, her hands seeking my face, my chest, trying to pull me closer, but I backed up just enough to stay out of reach.
“Malik...” she whispered, my name falling from her lips.
I slowly pulled my sweatshirt back on, watching her watch me, confusion in her expression. This was the hardest thing I’d ever done, walking away from her when every fiber of my being wanted to press her back against that locker and bury myself so deep inside her that she never thought about coming back to this place again.
“I meant what I said,” I told her, reaching out to brush her temple, my touch gentle despite the steel in my voice. “I’m not fucking you again until we fix this. Until you stop running from what we have. Until you come home.”
She looked up at me, eyes glassy and unfocused, lips swollen and parted like she wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words. Not after what had just happened. Not when she was still trembling from the aftershocks.
“I still need a little time.”
I leaned down and kissed her forehead, then lingered just inches from her mouth, close enough that she could feel mybreath, close enough that all she had to do was lean forward and our lips would meet.
“You want a rush again?” I repeated. “Call your fucking man and stay yo ass outta here. I hope we’re clear that as long as you carrying my seed, this place is off limits. I love you.”
And just like that, I walked out.
Leaving her there breathless, dripping, and thoroughly reminded of exactly what she’d been missing. Reminded of who I was to her and who she was to me, regardless of whatever games her pride wanted to play.
The sound of my footsteps echoed down the hallway as I made my way back through the station, past the curious stares of her crew, past Halo’s knowing look, and out into the evening air that felt cool against my heated skin.
She’d be thinking about this for days. Thinking about me. Thinking about what she’d given up and what she stood to lose if she kept playing these games. When she was ready to stop running, to stop pretending that what we had wasn’t everything, I’d be waiting.
A WEEK LATER
Icouldn’t stop grinning as I sat in the passenger seat of Malik’s G-Wagon, heading to the car lot. Ma said yes to the car, and I could tell she was starting to soften toward Malik. The way she’d told me to tell him, ‘his baby mama said it’s fine,’ was the first time I’d heard her joke about their situation since everything went down.
