My mouth was on hers in an instant, the kiss surprisingly tentative for what we just did. Rosie’s plush lips were soft and delicious, just as I knew they would be. Her hesitant tongue glided with mine, tasting slightly of the pizza we had just eaten.

The kiss was hot, only made hotter by the fact that I knew she could taste herself on my lips. I let her take the lead, tasting and exploring at her leisure, giving my mouth up to her pleasure and excitement before she slowly pulled away. Those beautiful lips red and swollen, glistening with the evidence of our kiss.

Much like my face between her thick thighs, it was over sooner than I liked. If I had my way, Rosie would always be attached to me, to my mouth, to my cock, rooted firmly into every aspect of my damned life.

“You satisfied?” I looked over at her, her big brown eyes shining brightly, happier than I’d ever seen her.

I lived for it, I wanted nothing more than to see her smiling up at me. Her smile was genuine and not at all like the ones she gave me when she thought I expected them from her. Here, so close to me, with her cheeks slightly pink and her expression open, I knew this was the Rosie I wanted to see always. Real, true, and happy.

I wasn’t confident these were things she had ever been allowed to be. The thought made me angry.

Rosie grinned, her beautiful face transformed by the joy her pleasure gave her. She nodded.

I smirked. “You’d better be.”

Her dainty little foot shot out, striking my head with enough force to slightly knock me off balance. “Shut up, Dex-ter.” she emphasized the second syllable of my name, giggling the entire time.

I grabbed her foot, pulling slightly, to prompt her off of the couch and onto my lap. Her plush body lined up perfectly with mine, my hands grasping at the roundness of her fleshy hips, making their way around to grab at her ass as her lips descended on mine again.

“You’re just asking for trouble, now, sweetheart.”

* * *

“You know, I just realized... We don’t really know anything about each other,” I said as Rosie floated next to me in the cool waters of my swimming pool, her curvy body encased in a pink, high-waisted bikini.

“Of course we do,” she disagreed. “I know how much you love that car of yours, I know that you hate cheesecake, and I know how much you live for Billy Joel, even if you’ll never admit it.”

“Smartass.” I splashed her, covering her sun-warmed stomach in water. “You know what I mean, Rosie. We barely know anything about each other.”

It was true, aside from the general facts like birthdays, hometowns, and middle names, she and I had very little knowledge of what each other’s lives were like before we met. Had she been anyone else, the fact wouldn’t have bothered me at all.

Rosie, while always open with her smiles, was often closed off with the rest of her emotions. She frequently seemed to be holding back with her words, with her abilities, and even with her affection. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it.

Beautiful young women moving to Miami were a dime a dozen. The city was a flurry of gorgeous people looking for inspiration, a good time, and a way to escape. But something told me the reason for Rosie’s departure had very little to do with her desire to spend her days sun-soaked and filled with Margaritas on South Beach.

I got the feeling that she was running from something. She didn’t seem to be constantly looking over her shoulder, nor did she appear to be deathly afraid of anything so I was sure it wasn't anything deadly. With her speech, mannerisms, and general disposition, I could only assume she had left behind a life of luxury to “find herself.”

The thought gave me pause; this wasn’t some piece of shit ‘90s movie. I wasn’t some asshole from the wrong side of the tracks whose only purpose was to show the heroine a little bit of passion before she went back to her real life. Just like Rosie wasn’t some snotty rich girl who would throw me away at the first chance of trouble.

She was mine.

I’d had my first taste of her; she was still on my tongue for fuck’s sake! It didn’t matter where she came from or what she was facing, Rosie had to understand that we were no cliché, I wouldn’t let her throw me away.

As awful as it sounded, I wanted to save her. I wanted her to know she could count on me to help her destroy anything and everything that stood in the way of her happiness and wellbeing.

Whether she liked it or not.