4
Trent
It’s taking a lot of self-control to hide my anger, but I don’t want to scare Jasmine by getting pissed off. After what she told me, there’s red-hot rage pumping through my veins. I’d love nothing more than to find this Danny asshole and knock his lights out. It’s fucking sick what he’s done to this perfect girl, all because she had the good sense to say she didn’t want to date him. No way am I letting that shit go unpunished; I’m going to make damn sure that Danny pays for what he’s done. I’ll force him to tell the cops the truth. I won’t stop until I’ve made everything okay for Jasmine.
But…part of me, a selfish shitty part of me, doesn’t want to do it just yet. Once Jasmine’s name is cleared, she’ll have no reason to stay here with me. I want a little more time with this angel. She’s so damn pretty, so sweet, and I can’t face saying goodbye just yet. I’ll deal with Danny tomorrow, but for tonight at least, Jasmine’s staying here with me.
I don’t know what’s happening to me. All my life I’ve closed myself off from love, relationships, all that shit. Life’s been tough for me from day one, and I figured I’d suffered enough without risking heartbreak as well. Instead, I focused on my military career, being the best soldier I could be, serving my country and rising through the ranks. The army has been my whole life since I was nineteen, and aside from my brother, Rafe, and our grandparents, it’s the only thing that’s ever mattered to me.
But it’s over now.
My career is in the past, and my future has looked like a gaping black hole ever since my honorable discharge. It’s been tough to see a way forward, and wandering around in the woods all day just isn’t cutting it. But Jasmine…she’s like a bright light. With her in my home, all that darkness suddenly feels a little easier to bear, and it’s fucking intoxicating, even if it’s only temporary. For the first time in a long while, I feel truly alive: blood pumping, heart racing, nerves buzzing, cock stirring. I feel like I’ve been shocked back to life by this curvy beauty, and I want more.
“You’re sure you don’t want me to help?” Jasmine asks for the fifth time. “I feel useless just standing here.”
We’re in the kitchen. Now that her cuts are clean and dry, I’m making her some dinner. She’s had a pretty crazy day and she needs a good hearty meal, so I’m making a big bowl of spaghetti and meatballs.
“I’m sure,” I tell her. “You don’t need to do anything.”
“Can I at least grate the cheese?”
“No. I want to cook for you.”
It comes out bossier than I mean it too. My brother always tells me I’m a bossy asshole, and he’s got a point. Sometimes the words coming out of my mouth sound more like commands, even when I don’t mean them to.
“Sorry,” I say, looking over at Jasmine apologetically.
She smiles, those pouty lips curving upward in a way that makes my heart thump.
“It’s okay,” she says brightly. “I’ve just got a lot of nervous energy right now, so I’d feel better if I was doing something.”
I nod. “You really want to grate the cheese?”
“You bet.”
I grab the grater and hand it to her. “Go nuts.”
“Thanks.” She grins and starts grating enthusiastically while I drain the spaghetti and stir it in with the meatballs and sauce.
“It’s my grandma’s meatball recipe,” I say as I plate up our dinner. “She’s a damn good cook.”
“Seems like you inherited her talent,” Jasmine says. “It smells gorgeous.”
I carry our plates to the table while Jasmine brings in the grated cheese, and we sit across from each other, tucking into our food. I take a bite before I’m immediately distracted by Jasmine’s knee bumping against mine beneath the table. I suck in a breath, nearly choking on my spaghetti, but luckily she doesn’t notice.
“Wow,” she says, lifting her fingers to her mouth and giving an exaggerated chef’s kiss, “these are the best meatballs I’ve ever tasted.” She beams at me. “Tell the chef I’m very impressed.”
My lips twitch. She’s so fucking cute. Despite the shitty day she’s had, she’s still smiling, her face lit up like sunshine.
“The chef did okay,” I tell her. “But personally I think the grated cheese is the star of the show.”
“Oh, absolutely!” Jasmine exclaims with a laugh. “Whoever grated this cheese deserves some kind of cheese-grating award.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of a Nobel prize.”
“I like your thinking.” She lifts her fork to her mouth like it’s a microphone. “Congratulations Jasmine Phillips, winner of the Nobel cheese-grating prize!”
“Cheers to that.”
Jasmine spears a meatball onto her fork and holds it in front of her. I do the same and we bump them together like they’re champagne glasses.
“Cheers!” she says, before taking a bite out of her meatball, her green eyes glittering.
I feel like there’s something bright and golden running through my veins, and every time Jasmine flashes that pretty pink smile in my direction, it only gets stronger. It’s like I’m drunk on this sweet girl, my heart soaring higher with every laugh, every smile, every look. Now and then her leg brushes against mine beneath the table, and even the tiniest nudge is enough to make my cock harden. I can’t help it. She’s so beautiful, so deliciously curvy, that I’m amazed I haven’t come in my pants like a damn teenager just from looking at her.
“Can I ask you something?” Jasmine asks once we’ve finished the spaghetti and made a start on our cheesecake.
We’ve kept things light all through our meal, but something in her tone tells me she’s about to ask something more personal. Instantly, I’m wary. I never open up about shit to anybody, and as the saying goes, old habits die hard.
“Yes,” I say, trying not to let my apprehension show. It’s not Jasmine’s fault I’m such a grumpy, secretive guy.
“You know the medals on the mantel?” she asks tentatively. “Are they yours?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re in the military?”
“I was. Not anymore.”
Something anxious is clawing at my chest. I don’t like where this is heading. Jasmine’s eyes flicker to my scar, a quick blink-and-you’ll-miss-it glance. But I don’t want to talk about that. I don’t want to make her feel sorry for me or let her see what a fucking mess I am. I don’t want her to know about all the ugliness inside me, the bad memories that I spend my days fighting down. If Jasmine’s a ray of sunshine, then I’m a gray cloud, and the last thing I want is to darken her light with all the shit I’m carrying around inside me.
Jasmine seems to sense she’s hit a nerve, and she immediately changes the subject, asking about life on Snowfall Ridge and what it’s like living up so high. I’m grateful that she didn’t push for more answers, and not for the first time, I’m struck by the urge to pull her into my arms and hold her tight. I want those gorgeous curves pressed against me, her head on my chest as I lean down and smell her chocolate brown hair. I want to lose myself in this beautiful girl and let the whole world melt away.
“What about you?” I ask once I’ve told her a little about Snowfall Ridge. “What do you do at the bank?”
“Data entry.” She makes a face. “It’s as boring as it sounds.”
“Not what you want to be doing?”
Jasmine bites her lip, frowning. Looks like this time I’m the one who’s hit a nerve.
“You don’t have to answer,” I tell her quickly. The last thing I want to do is upset this angel.
“No it’s okay,” she says, shrugging like it’s no big deal. But her face tells a different story. “It’s just a job. I majored in psychology. Graduated last year. I wanted to be a counselor.”
“Wanted? Past tense?”
Jasmine opens her mouth and closes it again. “It…I…uh, hey, that cheesecake was really good, is there any more?”
“You bet.”
I don’t push her. She didn’t push me. But as I get up to cut us each another slice of cheesecake, I can’t help wishing I knew more about the curvy beauty sitting at my table.
***
After dinner, time seems to move at double speed. It’s like the clock on the wall knows I want more time with Jasmine, and it’s purposefully ticking faster just to spite me. We chat for a while before Jasmine heads into the bathroom to take a shower, and I’m left sitting on the couch, my cock aching at the thought of her naked and dripping wet on the other side of the wall. I leave one of my t-shirts for her outside the bathroom door, and when she pads back into the living room a short while later, I can’t help but stare. She’s fresh-faced and beautiful, her skin still a little pink from the shower, my t-shirt swamping her curvy body and tumbling down to her knees.
So fucking adorable.
“Thanks for the shirt,” she says sweetly, yawning.
“No problem. You tired?”
She rubs her eyes and nods. “It’s been a long day.”
“I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.”
She follows me to the guest bedroom. It’s small but cozy, with a view over the darkening mountain landscape, and Jasmine smiles when she sees it.
“Perfect! Thank you so much.”
Fuck knows how I’m going to get any sleep. Knowing this angel will be lying in bed so close to me is already giving me a hard-on.
“Well, I’ll leave you to sleep,” I grunt, hoping she doesn’t notice the growing bulge in my jeans. “Tell me if you need anything.”
“Got it. Thanks.” Jasmine smiles. “Goodnight, Trent.”
“Goodnight.”
Reluctantly, I step out of the room and head to my own bed. It takes me a long time to get to sleep, especially since I can hear the soft creaking of bedsprings from the guestroom every time Jasmine turns over. The noise fills my head with dirty thoughts—the bed creaking beneath us as I fuck Jasmine’s wet pussy, filling her with my cock until she’s screaming for me, that pretty face screwed up with pleasure.
Goddammit, what’s wrong with me?
I shouldn’t be thinking these things. Jasmine is so damn young, way too young for a grumpy old veteran like me. She’s also vulnerable and scared, and she’s counting on me to keep her safe from the cops. The last thing she needs is for me to start acting like a dirty old man.
But fuck…I want her.
More than I’ve ever wanted anything.
With a bitter groan, I punch my pillow, trying to let out some of my frustration. Then I roll onto my side and after a lot of grunting and sighing, I finally fall into a restless sleep.