Chapter 2

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My heart almost jumped out of my chest when I heard the door pounding in the middle of the night. Not wanting to mind it because I was cooking, I didn't want to disturb a neighborhood.

I opened my apartment door and found Rafael standing at my doorstep. His arms folded across his chest. I heaved out a sigh. If I let him, we were just going to argue. I tried to close the door but he let a foot inside and pushed himself into my house. I felt the pressure against my chest just by looking at his crooked shirt and unruly hair.

"I didn't know when did you become rude," he said, icily.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I just want to talk." he said softly, "and hmm—you cooking?" he asked, slightly sniffing the air.

"Yes, want some?" I asked, wondering if he already ate his dinner. Apparently, I was worried about him. I used to ask his personal chef to prepare for his lunch and dinner every single day. He had a particular taste income to his meals. He usually liked the Italian cuisine.

He nodded, then forced a smile, "Yes, I guess so. I'm famished, Clara."

I lead him to the dining table, then put a plate in front of him. "Then I'm glad I cooked something that would blend with your taste buds,"

"Lasagna and chicken," he smiled.

"Why did you come here?"

"Simple. I want you back," he said straightforwardly.

"I can't just walk away then come back when you say so," I opened the microwave the pulled out the chicken. I even prepared it for myself as a celebration.

"Then let's just forget what happened last night and come back."

"It's not that simple," I stopped. The chicken was too hot. I put on over the kitchen tiles. "Wait a sec,"

"Let me help you" Rafael, stood to the rescue. I felt his fingers brushed slightly with mine. I pulled away swiftly.

Rafael put on a rubber glove then he lifted up bowl. He transferred the roasted chicken onto a plater.

"Do you have a lemon?" He asked.

I nodded then ran to the fridge to grab some. I sliced the lemon hurriedly into half then I gave it to him. He squeezed the juice on the chicken.

"Yes, thank you, " I whispered.

"Welcome." He smiled, "What I was saying, I can give anything you want." He licked his own fingers. Damn, it looked so erotic.

"What do I want?"

He didn't answer, but he stepped closer then he rested his palms on my shoulders. I looked up into his eyes.

"I've been thinking," he whispered, "I think I figured out what the problem between us."

I huffed out a breath, "You mean the problem where I quit and you don't believe me?"

"No, the other one."

"There's another on This should be good." I stepped back, folding my arms across my chest.

He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pocket, "I think so."

"Okay, tell me," I said, squirming a little in an attempt to either get closer or stepped back more. I wasn't really sure anymore.

"It's the unrelieved sexual tension, Clara." he murmured. His gaze moved over my face before settling briefly on my mouth. I chewed my top lip and worried about something.

He grinned so sexily, "Why don't you let me chew on that lip for you?" He teased.

I blinked up, "Are you serious?" I drawled. Until he finally made the choice for us. He pressed me against his hard rock body. His hands around my hips were firm and strong.

And then he pulled my lips tight against him so he could let me know how serious he really was. He breathed deeply. His gaze dropped to the swell of my breast, barely visible over the edge of my tank top.

A rush of need, much stronger and deeper than I expected overcomes me. He drew me closer, dipping his head to me. I fit perfectly against him.


Her deep brown eyes went wide as I pulled her closer. She wanted me, I could see it through her eyes. So what could be simpler than having each other? And once we had each other, I'll do what I wanted to her...make her feel special. Then she would quit talking about leaving and things could back to normal.


"Well?" I lifted one hand to smooth her hair back to her face then trailed a finger along her jawline. She gasped. Good, she's affected.

"I should warn you, I'm feeling pretty tense." she laughed nervously. She slowly slid her hands up my chest then slowly slipped her arms around my neck. "Now talk," she added, "because this is getting really weird, but since you started it..."

I chortled, staring back at her eyes, "I always get what I want,"

"Uh-huh and then?"

"I'll never let you escape," I told her.

Her eyes peered, "Is this one of your games?"

"I'm serious here, Clara." I pressed her a little more, our foreheads adhered.

"Why do I feel like you're only doing this because of your own selfishness?" she asked.

Alright, she got me. Not very surprising from Miss Ide. No wonder she was my executive assistant. I had to persuade her harder.

"This is not simple for me too, Clara, believe me,"

"Uh-yes, because you didn't do anything like this before," she flashed out a grin, "which make you more suspicious."

"Clara, maybe we could talk and give each other a chance, make some adjustments. Quitting is never a solution. You know that."

"Oh, really? So you are saying that I am right and you are plotting this conversation to get me back? No. Way." She pulled away from me.

"Did I ever tell you how bright you were? Only a foolish person can let someone like you go. And I am not that person,"

"Don't you understand? I can't keep doing this with you forever. I have to walk a different path, Mr. Sloan. And I can only do that if I resign."

"What if...what if you can keep your job then I'll still let you do what you want?"

"This is ridiculous!"

"No, this is not. Listen, I have decided to keep you next to me," I insisted.

"Rafe, are you hearing yourself right now? I'm tired of explaining to you endlessly. I—"

I swiftly smacked my mouth on hers so she could quit talking back, "Enough. I won't let you. I'll keep you next to me forever if I must."

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