He’s let me in, just as I have let him in. His name’s Garrett, the man who’s healing the broken girl residing just under the surface of who I am.
“Well, Garrett Chadwick, looks like we both learned how to trust tonight.”
“It looks that way doesn’t it?” he answers rhetorically.
We kiss until our bodies are steaming and smoldering. His body responding to my touch, my body ready to go, he pulls me to the edge of the bed, rolls on a rubber and takes me from behind. This time it’s raw, fierce, and primitive. We both have a burning need that must be satisfied. Clutching my waist, he pummels me with his entire length, I thrust back taking every inch he is giving me.
“Garrett.” His name rolls across my tongue so freely, beautifully breathlessly I sing it.
“I like the way you say my name while I am fucking you. Say it again.”
“Garrett,” I repeat.
He moans as his pace quickens. He drags his hand up my back and takes a fist full of my hair, pulling my head back as he buries himself deeper. Our eyes meet, and he watches me in the mirror across the room as he takes me. The way my body moves, and how my tits bounce with every thrust he makes.
“I want to watch your expression when I make you come, be the man who breaks you wide open, Rosebud. I want you to scream my name.”
I clench my pussy around his cock, knowing it will throw him over the edge.
“Rosebud, you feel so good.” He fucks me with even more determination.
“Garrett,” I huff his name before throaty, bellowing sounds escape me. “Yes, please,” I continue.
“Rosebud, damn, you’re so good, I want to fuck you every day, every night, right here, forever.”
Our words to one another, promises in the heat of the moment become nothing more than primal moans as we both detonate at the same time. Loud beastly calls hum across my back, sweat beads trickle down my hairline as my eyes roll up in the back of my head and I scream his name.
He pulls me up into the bed, wrapping up in each other, I feel safe, needed, wanted and finally important.
“I want to keep you to myself. Will you let me . . . keep you?” His words are filled with contentment.
I don’t want to say anything, I want to just hum or moan my answer, but, I know from before that he’s someone who likes me to communicate with my words, use language in a beautiful manner.
“That depends.”
“Oh really? On what?” he asks as he tangles his fingers in the random loose strands of my hair clearing them out of my eyes.
“On where you live,” I answer as I prop myself up on my elbows and caress my fingers against his chest. I’m safe, comfortable, I see myself getting used to waking up next to him.
“Why would that matter?”
“Because as much as I hate Southern California, if you move me there, then I’d have to adjust. But on the other hand if you move me to New York—”
“Who said you’d leave San Francisco?” He adjusts himself out from under me.
“You did.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Oh, so wait, you’re relocating to the city?”
“No,” he snaps.
“Wait, I’m totally confused. If you’re asking me to go with you . . .”
His expression shifts, and at that moment I realize what he’s saying.
He gets up off the bed.
“Look, Rose, I really enjoy this, I want to keep, this. I want to help you. Get you off the street, keep you safe.” Nerves are exploding and captivating every move, every reaction as he shifts his hands back and forth between us.
“Oh, fuck me. Holy shit. Ohmigod! I’m soooo fucking stupid,” I howl. I spring up, wrapping the loose sheet around my naked body. He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want me to be with him. He really wants to just keep me.
My mom’s voice plays over and over in my head.
‘It’s your fault your father hits me. You were never wanted, I was forced to keep you. Forced to marry him. It’s all your fault, Rosalie. You weren’t supposed to be born!’
Shredded.
Torn.
Apart.
In seconds . . .
“Wait, wait, Rosebud.”
“Don’t call me that!”
“Hold on, what did you think I meant? I want to get you off the streets, pay for an apartment for you, and give you money so you don’t have to—”
“Fuck other men for money? Whore myself out? What is it, Garrett? You’ll keep me for yourself, but only as your own personal piece of ass when you’re in town?”
“What did you think this was, Rose?”
“Don’t worry, I get it. Three days, that’s about all I’m worth.”
Mister reaches for me. I pull away.
“Rose, stop it. I’m trying to help you.”
Frantically I’m looking for clothes so I can get the hell out. I stop at his words; my heart is breaking with every word out of his mouth.
“Please, stop. You don’t have to help me. I’m capable. I’ve lived perfectly fine without you before these last three days. This was my fault. Stupid, thinking that you’d want this.” I swing my hand up and down my body.