Chapter 315: Caught in 4K by My Father

There was no urgency this time; no desperate effort to compensate for four lost years. It was simply a kiss between two people finally acknowledging that the love they shared had never truly faded.

I kissed him back. My fingers gently clutched the front of his shirt as his hand settled on my waist. When I pressed closer, he immediately embraced me gently. His other hand remained on my cheek, his thumb gliding across my skin as if he were still confirming that I was truly there.

When we finally broke apart, we stayed close enough to touch foreheads. Damien’s eyes searched mine.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

I smiled in spite of myself. "You really need to stop asking me that, Asshole."

"I need to know."

"I know." I ran my fingers through his hair, tucking back the strands that had fallen across his forehead. "I’m sure, if I wasn’t I’d tell you, dummy."

His mouth curved slightly and he kissed my forehead. "Well, if you say so, Sunshine"

Then before I could say anything else, he wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me onto the kitchen counter. I let out a startled laugh, gripping his shoulders.

"Damien!"

He looked far too pleased with himself. "What?"

"You can’t just pick people up whenever you want!"

"I can if they’re willing."

I narrowed my eyes. "That’s a very convenient interpretation of consent."

His expression turned serious. "Do you want me to put you down?"

I looked at him, then at the counter, and finally back to his face. "No."

His smirk returned. "Then we’re good."

"You’re impossible."

"You love me."

"Unfortunately."

He leaned in and kissed me again before I could throw out another tease.

This kiss felt longer, warmer, and more familiar, and I found myself relaxing into him, as if my body remembered something my mind had tried to forget over the years. My hands tangled in his hair, and he let out a quiet laugh against my lips when I gently tugged at it.

When his lips traveled from mine to my cheek and then along my jaw, I instinctively tilted my head, giving him more room. He kissed the side of my neck, then paused. I felt his smile against my skin.

"Don’t," I warned, already guessing his thoughts.

"Don’t what?"

"You know what." He kissed my neck again. I chuckled softly and tugged at his dark hair. "You’re so damn ridiculous."

"I’ve missed this so much."

His voice was muffled against my neck, and the tenderness in it made me drop my teasing tone. He pressed another kiss beneath my jaw, lingering a moment before pulling back enough to meet my eyes.

Then I felt the unmistakable warmth of his mouth against my skin again, followed by more pressure than before.

I blinked in surprise. When he raised his head, I stared at him.

"Did you just give me another hickey?"

His expression was almost innocent. "Yes."

"Damien! My father fucking lives here!"

He glanced towards the hallway, as if the logistics of this had only now dawned on him. "That’s a valid concern."

"Thank you."

"I’ll make sure they’re easy to hide this time."

I looked at him skeptically. "That’s not reassuring."

He chuckled softly and leaned in again, placing another sweet kiss on my neck. I couldn’t help but smile.

He kissed the spot beneath my jaw once more, and I closed my eyes letting out a moan, resting my fingers in his hair as the quiet intimacy surrounded us.

For a while, we were uninterested in moving. The carnival felt impossibly distant now, even though it was just a short walk from the house. The lively lights, music, shouting, and laughter had been replaced by the soothing kitchen glow and the familiar sounds of home, making the moment feel even more intimate.

This was what Damien had been talking about...not the extravagant penthouse or city lights or endless meetings, but this. A quiet kitchen, with someone waiting. A quiet place to come home to.

I rested my forehead against his and I smiled and kissed him again, softly this time, and for a few moments, I allowed myself to imagine that perhaps we could actually have this someday. Not a perfect life. Not an easy one. Just ours.

Damien’s lips found my neck again, and I laughed softly when he evidently decided one mark wasn’t enough. "You’re going to get me in trouble."

"I’ll explain."

"You’ll explain?"

"Yes."

"To my father?"

"Yes."

I stared at him incredulously. "You’re very brave for someone who has never had Dad look at him like he knows exactly what he’s thinking."

"Your father loves me, more than he loves you."

"That’s unfortunately true."

"Then he’ll understand."

He smiled against my neck. I felt his fingers tighten around my waist, and I caressed his hair again, enjoying the warmth of his presence despite myself.

Just when I was beginning to forget that we were in a kitchen where my father could appear at any moment, I heard a faint sound from the hallway. A slow tap...then another.

The tapping echoed again, followed by the soft rasp of a cane against the floor. I peered towards the door. Dad appeared slowly, gripping his cane with one hand, looking like he had just gotten up for a glass of water. Then he looked up.

His gaze landed on me...then Damien and we immediately broke our kiss. Then he took in the sight of me sitting on the kitchen counter with Damien standing between my legs. Finally, his eyes landed on my neck.

I felt my entire body tense, oh...holy shit! What the actual hell??

"Shit! Dad—!"

I shoved Damien aside. Unfortunately, I pushed him harder than I meant to, and he stumbled backward almost falling to the floor, but he managed to catch himself on the edge of the counter.

"Oliver?" he said, looking at me with genuine confusion...then he turned around, "Oh."

I almost shed actual tears due to embarrassment. Oh...just kill me now, please...!

I ignored him, focusing instead on my father. Dad stood in the doorway, the cane halted midway beside him, his mouth slightly agape, eyebrows raised as he processed the scene before him.

Silence enveloped the kitchen, so profound I could hear the hum of the refrigerator and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Suddenly, I became acutely aware of my wild hair, disheveled shirt, the lingering flush on my cheeks, and the very obvious marks Damien had left on my neck.

Beside me, Damien straightened, looking almost as mortified as I felt. For perhaps the first time, the CEO of Lockwood Group appeared utterly bewildered.

Dad flicked his gaze between Damien and me again. I wished for the floor to open up and swallow me. I wished I could rewind time by thirty seconds and prevent myself from ever sitting on that counter.

Instead, I found myself sitting there in awkward silence while my father stared at us as if he had stumbled into the wrong house.

Among all the ways I envisioned this night concluding, being caught mid-kiss on the kitchen counter by my father was not one of them.