365 Days of Rejected Proposal: CEO's Rebellious Pet-Chapter 147: Whatever You Want, I’ll Give You

Chapter 147: Chapter 147: Whatever You Want, I’ll Give You

Zinnia had barely spoken when Jenson interrupted her in a deep voice. "No buts! Don’t overthink things. Put away all those unnecessary thoughts! Just focus on having the baby. We’ll raise him together..."

Raise the baby together.

Zinnia listened to his words, and her heart skipped a beat.

She had always wanted a home, with a mother, a father, and a baby—a warm family of three. Just like he said, to raise their baby together.

Her heart softened, and in her daze, Jenson’s kiss landed once again. His tongue was like a dragon, giving her no room to retreat. It wantonly broke past her lips with a clear goal, sucking and teasing her small tongue, drawing out her sweet fluids.

"Zinnia," his voice was a low, coaxing murmur, "be good. I’ll give you anything you want..."

His words were as scorching as a lover’s whisper.

She wanted his love. Would he give her that, too?

Zinnia’s hand on his waist accidentally brushed against the thick bandage there, and her heart softened further. She tilted her head up. Her initial forced endurance gave way as she unconsciously lifted her hands to wrap around his neck, actively leaning in to return his kiss.

"When did Mrs. Forrest learn how to kiss like this? I like it very much..." Jenson said in a husky voice, seeming very satisfied with her response, as if she had managed to please him.

Zinnia, red to the tips of her ears, shyly pushed him.

His large hand, however, was scorching hot, moving eagerly as if it had a mind of its own. Just as his fingers deftly undid the clasp of her bra, the door to the ward was suddenly pushed open.

"Dr. Cohen, this way please..."

It was Timothy Cohen’s voice; he was clearly showing the doctor in to check on Jenson. His voice died in his throat when he saw the chaotic, intimate scene on the hospital bed.

The man on the bed shot him a look as cold and sharp as a blade. At the same time, Jenson quickly withdrew his hand, pulling down Zinnia’s sweater to shield her slender, snow-white waist. With his other hand, he pressed the back of her head, burying her face in his chest.

"Get out!"

Timothy’s hand trembled. Reacting in an instant, he squeezed his eyes shut and slammed the door. Before the door shut completely, Timothy’s panicked voice drifted back. "Dr. Cohen, maybe we should wait a bit. The president is... a little busy right now."

Zinnia lay against the man’s chest, feeling utterly mortified.

This is social suicide; she couldn’t be more mortified. The doctor must have seen everything. He probably thinks I’m so desperate, pouncing on a patient who was just transferred from the ICU.

The shock left her feeling weak, and she sagged against Jenson’s embrace.

Jenson gently tugged her reddening earlobe. "Shy?"

"It’s all your fault!" Zinnia, flustered and annoyed, lifted her head from his chest and shot him a reproachful glare. Panicked, she scrambled to get off the bed to open the door for the doctor.

"Wait a moment..." Jenson said hoarsely, tightening his arm around her lower back.

Annoyed, Zinnia retorted, "Wait for what? If we wait any longer, I won’t be able to show my face!"

Leaving the doctor waiting outside will be even more humiliating!

However, Jenson held her waist and wouldn’t let go. "If you open the door now," he said hoarsely, "we’ll both be even more embarrassed."

As he spoke, his large hand gripped her waist and pulled her slightly forward.

Zinnia’s face flushed red as she lowered her head. She froze, not daring to move an inch, and bit her lip. "Aren’t you injured? How can you..."

"It’s not *that* part of me that’s injured," Jenson replied, sounding completely justified.

With her sitting on top of him, crying and making a fuss, it would be a major problem if he *didn’t* have a reaction.

Zinnia was speechless. In a self-deceiving gesture, she pulled the blanket over Jenson’s lower body. "You... just hurry up and calm down."

She turned her head away, unable to meet his gaze as she urged him to calm down.

"You don’t have to open the door," he said, clearing his throat as he watched her shy, annoyed expression. "Go to the bathroom and straighten yourself out."

If she stayed in front of him, he probably wouldn’t be able to calm down anytime soon.

Hearing this, Zinnia felt as if she’d been granted amnesty. She leaped from the bed and fled into the bathroom. Standing before the sink, she turned on the faucet and chanced a glance in the mirror. She saw herself with messy hair and a flushed face. Her eyes and lips were both red and swollen, exuding a wanton allure.

She hadn’t realized she looked like this. She remembered how, when the door opened, Jenson’s first reaction was to press her face into his chest. Zinnia’s cheeks burned again. No wonder he had told her not to open the door and to go freshen up in the bathroom instead.

She splashed cold water on her face, and the heat finally began to subside.

She thought about how Jenson had never been like this before. He had been so cold and abstinent, barely touching her a few times in their two years of marriage. Now, seeing him like this, Zinnia felt shy and annoyed, but she couldn’t suppress a hint of sweet joy.

Voices sounded from outside. It seemed the doctor had come in.

Zinnia was still worried about Jenson’s injuries. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and walked out.

"The wound is recovering well. Luckily, the knife only grazed the edge of an organ. However, the wound almost went straight through, so President Forrest must continue to rest in bed to prevent it from tearing open again or getting infected." As the doctor finished, he glanced at Zinnia. Though she tried to remain composed, she couldn’t stop herself from blushing again.

Why does it feel like he’s cautioning me?

"Furthermore, President Forrest has lost a great deal of blood, so his family needs to provide excellent care. Make sure he eats plenty of nutritious, blood-replenishing meals. By the way, the angiography results should be out. I’ll take a look at them later. If everything is fine, there’s no need to worry."

Utterly embarrassed, Zinnia immediately volunteered, "I’ll go get them."

With that, she turned and hurried out of the ward. The sight of her fleeing figure brought a faint smile to Jenson’s thin lips. He turned to the doctor. "Thank you for your trouble, Dr. Cohen."

Once Dr. Cohen had left, the gentle expression on Jenson’s handsome face vanished instantly. The atmosphere in the room plummeted, becoming heavy and oppressive. Timothy stood there, his scalp prickling.

"Speak. What did you do?"

Timothy looked like he wanted to cry. He confessed honestly, "President, I really didn’t do much. It’s just... when I went to inform Mrs. Forrest, I wanted her to worry about you, so I might have exaggerated a little. I also showed her the video of the incident. That’s honestly all I did."

A frosty coldness filled Jenson’s eyes. He knew it. Timothy must have done something to frighten Zinnia so badly. When he had embraced her outside the ICU just moments ago, she had nearly fainted in his arms.

"Who told you to be clever? Are you trying to advertise that the head on your shoulders is nothing but a tumor?"

Timothy’s face turned pale from the scolding. The boss had indeed only told him to inform Mrs. Forrest about the stabbing. He hadn’t even said she should come to the hospital. He had acted on his own, exaggerated the situation, and even shown her the video.

But he was just trying to make amends and help the boss and Mrs. Forrest reconcile sooner, wasn’t he?

How had his good intentions backfired so spectacularly?