Chapter 39 Carefree
A shudder rippled through her.
Before she could react, his hand lifted to her jaw, tilting her face up gently—but with intent. His eyes searched hers, dark and unreadable, as if silently asking permission.
She didn’t pull away.
That was all it took.
His lips crashed onto hers.
The kiss was slow at first—testing, deliberate—his mouth moving against hers with practiced control. Jasmine froze for a heartbeat, shock stealing the air from her lungs.
Then something inside her snapped.
She kissed him back.
Her hands fisted into his hair as the kiss deepened, turning heated and consuming.
Damien groaned softly, one arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her flush against him.
The world faded.
His lips moved with hunger now, claiming, demanding, and she melted into it far too easily. Her body responded instinctively, arching into his as his hand slid to her lower back.
She gasped against his mouth, the sound swallowed as he kissed her harder.
She hated how good it felt.
Hated how desperately she wanted more.
A loud voice shattered the moment.
“Damien!”
Richelle’s sharp call echoed through the hallway.
They broke apart instantly.
Damien groaned under his breath, frustration etched into every line of his face as he stepped back reluctantly.
Jasmine stood there, stunned—breathing uneven, lips swollen, skin tingling everywhere he had touched.
Cold rushed in where his warmth had been.
She pressed her lips together, pushing her hair back as she struggled to regain control.
Her cheeks burned, her heart still racing as she slipped past Damien and out into the hallway.
Richelle stood there, eyes flicking briefly over Jasmine’s flushed, disheveled appearance before settling on Damien with thinly veiled amusement.
Jasmine didn’t stop.
She walked past them both, leaving them standing in the doorway as her pulse thundered wildly in her ears.
She didn’t know what she had just agreed to.
But she knew one thing.
There was no turning back now.
~
JASMINE
“Stop squirming, you little squirt!” Ray laughed, his voice echoing through the kitchen as he pinned me down with surprising strength, his hand hovering dangerously close to my face with a fistful of flour.
“Get off me, you nitwit!” I cursed, laughter bubbling out of me despite my struggle as I tried to shove him away. My arms flailed uselessly, my sides already aching from how hard I was laughing.
Too late.
He smashed the flour right onto my face.
A white cloud puffed into the air as he smeared it across my nose, cheeks, and forehead, laughing like he’d just won a championship.
I spluttered, coughing as flour coated my lashes and lips.
“Oh, you are dead,” I growled, scrambling to my feet.
Ray didn’t wait to hear the rest.
He bolted.
“Ray!” I yelled, chasing after him as he made a beeline for the kitchen, his sneakers sliding against the tiled floor. “You’re going to pay for that!”
I lunged at him just as he reached the counter, tackling him mid-run.
We both crashed to the floor with a loud thud, laughter exploding between us as bowls clattered and utensils rattled around us.
I ended up straddling him, my knees on either side of his waist.
“Oh, it’s over for you now,” I declared dramatically, grabbing a nearby bowl filled with flour. Without hesitation, I dumped the entire contents onto his face.
Ray sputtered, sneezing violently as flour coated his hair, his lashes, his nose.
“Ah—choo! Jasmine, you menace!” he laughed, trying to wipe his eyes as more flour smeared across his face.
I didn’t let up.
I smeared more flour into his curls, pressing it into his hair like shampoo as he laughed helplessly beneath me. My arms hurt from laughing so hard, my stomach aching, tears pricking my eyes.
For the first time in a long while, I felt… light.
Carefree.
Happy.
Ray suddenly grabbed my waist and twisted, using his height and weight to flip us over. In seconds, I was flat on my back, the cold floor seeping through my clothes, Ray hovering above me with a victorious grin.
“Oh no, you don’t,” he said, cracking his knuckles dramatically. “My turn.”
Before I could react, his fingers dug into my sides.
“Ray—no—stop!” I gasped, my laughter coming out in uncontrollable bursts as I squirmed beneath him. “Ray! Ray!”
He didn’t listen.
He tickled my sides relentlessly, making my stomach cramp as laughter tore out of me, loud and breathless. I kicked weakly, trying to push him away, tears streaming down my cheeks.
“Say it and I’ll stop!” he teased, his grin downright evil. “Say it!”
“I can’t breathe!” I wheezed, my voice cracking. “Ray—please!”
He leaned closer, wiggling his fingers menacingly. “Say it.”
“Okay! Okay!” I gasped. “You’re a better cook! You win!”
He froze.
Then burst out laughing, his shoulders rolling and his chest heaving as I sucked in huge gulps of air, my chest rising and falling rapidly. My sides hurt, my face ached from smiling, and flour coated nearly every inch of my body.
Ray was still laughing when the kitchen door flew open.
The temperature in the room dropped instantly.
I turned my head—and froze.
Damien stood in the doorway.
His presence filled the room before he even spoke. He was dressed in dark trousers and a fitted black shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. His posture was rigid, his shoulders tense, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought his teeth might crack.
His eyes—those piercing green eyes—darkened the second they landed on us.
On the flour.
On the mess.
On Ray untop of me, too close.
On me, still sprawled on the floor, laughing breathlessly.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Damien growled.
The sound of his voice made me flinch.
It wasn’t loud, but it was sharp—cutting, heavy with restrained fury.
I had never heard him sound like that before, and it sent a chill straight down my spine.
Ray moved first.
He rolled away from me and stood, brushing flour off his clothes before offering me a hand. I hesitated for half a second before taking it, letting him pull me to my feet.