Painted Red Read online

  Dex narrowed his eyes a bit, looking right through me, clearly seeing I was bullshitting him. “Nah, that shit can wait ‘til tomorrow, come on I’ll walk you out.”

  I gave up. “Well, my bus doesn’t come for a little while and I don’t feel like waiting out there in that heat, so-”

  “You don’t have a car, Rosie?”

  “Nope.” I didn’t want to elaborate. I didn’t feel like talking about my reasons for coming to this damn city so woefully unprepared, especially not with a man I barely knew.

  “Well, I guess I’ll have to give you a ride then, huh?” He flashed me that damn smirk again. “Can’t have my favorite assistant wandering these tough Miami streets armed with only that mean little scowl, can I?”

  “I carry a switchblade in my purse, thank you very much.”

  “Have you ever used it?”

  My lack of reply caused him to snort out a rude laugh. “I rest my case.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. “Grab your things, I’m taking you home.”

  When I saw Dex’s car for the first time the day before, I hadn’t put much thought into it, only noting its obviously expensive exterior and odd placement at the seemingly hideous warehouse. Taking a clearer look at it though, I could see how much it fit the man who drove it. Strong and sleek, the soft rumble of the engine gave me a chill that was reminiscent of the way Dex made me feel when he spoke about punishing me earlier that morning.

  I’d grown up riding in Mercedes Benz’s and large town cars, being carted around by silent hired drivers. Something I hadn’t fully appreciated in my adolescence, but coveted as an adult. In that car, with my ass pillowed in soft leather seats and the smooth glide of the road beneath us, I could understand why people fell so in love with their automobiles.

  “You like the Porsche, huh?” Dex looked over at me, one hand on the wheel and the other hanging out of his rolled down window. He looked gorgeous, his dark hair gleaming in the dusky sky and his green eyes somehow alight.

  “It’s beautiful! Probably the coolest car I’ve ever seen in person.” I couldn’t help but feel excited. Whether it was about the car or something entirely separate, I didn’t know.

  “I can tell.” He seemed speculative. “You get this look on your face when you’re excited about something.” Dex looked away from me, his eyes towards the road again. “Your eyes light up all bright and your cheeks flush. It’s…Cute.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say, or how to reply. It was the first time in what seemed like forever someone had noticed something like that about me. That someone even took the time to look.

  Luckily, I didn’t have to come up with an adequate reply because we pulled up to my apartment building. Looking as shabby and old as it had every other time I’d seen it. The only difference was that Dex was there. Dex with his expensive car and huge art studio, Dex who probably lived in some ridiculous mansion on the beach somewhere. I knew I shouldn’t have been embarrassed about where I lived, there was nothing wrong with where I lived, but I still couldn’t stop the giant ball of shame from curling around my intestines.

  “Well, I guess this is me,” I said without reaching for the door handle. I didn’t want to leave him. Not yet.

  I turned my head to look over at Dex, fully expecting him to say something, instead he was leaning over the center console, his face so close to mine. I could smell his musky cologne and the faint scent of acrylic paint still lingering on his skin. I wondered, briefly, if that scent ever fully left him.

  “What are you doing, Dex?”

  “I’m just-” He paused. “I’m taking you in, Rosie.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that. “What for?”

  “I want to picture you like this tonight. When I’m in my bed.”

  My cheeks flushed; I never had a man express his desire for me so candidly. I liked it.

  “You like that, huh?” He inched a little closer, his large hand somehow finding my thigh. “You like that I’m going to be thinking about you when I jerk my cock tonight?”

  I could do nothing but nod, just a little. Barely a tilt of my head, really.

  “Will you think about me, little Rosie?” My breathing sped up as his hand inched towards the button on my jeans, easily popping it open. His thick fingers skirted along the waistband of my panties, making me soak the thin gusset.

  “Will you think about me when you play with this hot little pussy tonight? All alone in your bed?” His hot breath fanned across my cheek, the heat of it making me flush a bit. “You gonna come all over your fingers while you pant for my cock?”

  Just as his nimble fingers tried to make their way into my soaked panties I pulled back, suddenly startled. “Wait, no?” I rushed to refasten my jeans. “You’re my boss! I just met you!”

  I didn’t even wait for his reply as I jumped out of the car and rushed into my building. Entirely unsure how of I was supposed to face him again the next morning.

  Especially not after I spent what felt like forever fucking myself that night and wishing it had been his fingers, his cock, his mouth instead.

  4

  Dex

  After Rosie made a break for her apartment, I stayed parked outside. Partly because I wanted to make sure she got inside okay and partly because I could barely believe what went down.

  If I couldn’t still smell the scent of her, fresh and sweet and heady all at once, permeating the inside of my car, I probably wouldn’t have believed it. Barely a day of knowing her and I had pawed at her like some fucking animal with no self-control. It would be a goddamn wonder if she showed up for work again the next day.

  As angry as I was with myself, there was no denying that a part of me enjoyed the hell out of it. Her silky smooth skin trembling beneath my fingers, her lips quivering and hungry for the taking. She felt the electricity between us just as much as I had. A few more minutes alone together and we probably would have ended up frantically fucking in the front seat of my car like a pair of stupid high schoolers, nothing on our brains but the thought of getting off.

  I loved the thought of her begging for my touch, desperate to feel me all over her, but Rosie wasn’t some random club fuck. She was my employee, and one I hoped to work with for a while.

  Even still, I wanted her; I wanted inside her, on top of her, behind her. I wanted to have her in every way physically possible, but I also wanted her in a different way too. A way that was almost completely foreign to me. I felt a hunger for her, deep and hot sitting in the middle of my chest, scorching my insides.

  I wanted more than to feel her wrapped around me.

  I wanted to know her and see her.

  I wanted to paint her in swirling rings of colors, bright and bold and colorful, beautiful beyond compare.

  The thoughts terrified me. A few hours together and I already felt more passionately about her than almost every long-term relationship I had ever had. It was a ridiculous notion. I definitely didn’t believe in love at first sight, but this was something. The tugging in my chest I felt while watching her walk away needed to be explored.

  The next morning I got to the warehouse a little earlier than normal, more determined than I had been in a long damn time. I headed over to the little office where Rosie was stationed the day before, noticing just about every surface was covered in papers. The slight neat freak in me was more than tempted to straighten up, but I could see there was a purpose to the organized mess. I liked that even after only one day she made herself at home here, comfortable enough to completely uproot my old ways, organizing and creating something new and better. I could only imagine what she would do to my life. What she already had done.

  Hopefully, I wasn’t about to blow all that shit out of the water. I rooted around in the files until I found her employee paperwork, scanning over it as I took in her basic employee information. I knew it was a major invasion of her privacy, and while, as her boss, I technically had access and the express permission to check into her, I didn’t want to b
reak whatever fragile confidence she still held in me. Especially after the events of the night before. But I needed to make sure. I needed to know she wasn’t some fucking reporter or here to spy on me for some overzealous client, because I planned to make her mine. As soon and as thoroughly as fucking possible.

  I started off with a simple internet search, but her online presence seemed to be miniscule at best. Unlike most 21-year-olds, I couldn’t find any social media accounts, only a profile on a job connection site and a sparsely-used Pinterest page, whatever the hell that was.

  While it was definitely weird that she didn’t seem to be very active online, her lack of social media accounts didn’t raise any red flags so I flipped back over to her resume. The same one I hadn’t given a shit about once she stepped her gorgeous ass in my studio for the first time.

  Rosie’s resume was shockingly short. I saw some random California high school listed, followed by three years at NYU and a short six-month internship at a New York law firm. That was a little more concerning, though still not necessarily suspicious, but I couldn’t help but wonder about what could have made an obviously smart, level-headed girl like her quit college before she graduated.

  This girl was turning out to be quite the enigma. One I found myself dying to solve.

  Suddenly, her sweet voice sounded out across the warehouse, “Mr. Quinn, are you here?”

  “Yeah, I’m in the office.” I rushed to stand up, stuffing the papers back into her file.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “I’m just admiring your work, Rosie,” I said sarcastically.

  “Well, this office was a total mess so I have my work cut out for me.” She moved to set her little black purse down on the large desk. “So if you’ll just let me-”

  Rosie was obviously trying to dismiss me. I could tell she felt ashamed about the night before. Her creamy cheeks were flushed a ruby red and her adamant refusal to meet my eyes clued me in. I hated that I was the one who made her feel that way, embarrassed and unsure of where she stood with me.

  Even still, I couldn’t help but be surprised and a little impressed she even showed up. I held out hope that she wouldn’t give up on me or her new job just yet, but I definitely hadn’t felt confident she’d return. I was a bit floored by her resilience.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Nothing, Mr. Quinn.”

  “So why won’t you look at me?”

  She scowled at the floor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Her stubbornness only made me want to challenge her more. “Don’t bullshit me, Rosie.” I stepped closer. “You’re obviously embarrassed about last night.”

  She finally met my eyes, her face still on fire but angrier now. “Oh, don’t be a jackass-” She stopped abruptly, as if ashamed of her words.

  “Look, Dex.” She shook her head. “Mr. Quinn, you are my boss. What happened last night was-”.

  “Hot?”

  “It was unprofessional.”

  “I don’t agree with that, Rosie.” I brought my hand up to rest on her face, feeling the deliciously warm skin on the apple of her cheek. “I may have gotten ahead of myself a bit but what happened last night was fucking amazing. And it would have been even better if you hadn’t run off.”

  “No-”

  I cut her off. “I didn’t even get to kiss you and I was still on fire, and I know you were too.” I desperately didn’t want to embarrass her further, but I needed her to admit what happened between us was important.

  “Mr. Quinn, please-” she pleaded, her voice slightly rougher than before.

  “You can admit it, Rosie.” I leaned down. “You can admit that you felt something between us.”

  She pulled away abruptly before I could get the chance to kiss her. Those brown eyes wild. “No!”

  “No?”

  “Yes!” She took a deep breath. “I mean no! You’re my boss, Dex.” Rosie put some space between us with a step back. “We shouldn’t be discussing this.”

  “Why, are you going to sue me for sexual harassment?”

  “Can you be serious?”

  “I am being serious, Rosie,” I said, my tone much more lighthearted than I meant it to be.

  Rosie sighed, dropping down in the chair, holding her head in her hands. For a second I was afraid I had pushed her too far.

  “It doesn’t matter what you want, Dex.” She looked up at me again. I could see the seriousness in her bright eyes. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

  “Of course it does-”

  She cut me off, her voice as hard as steel. “I don’t want you, Dex. If you keep trying to pursue me, I’ll walk out that door and leave you to deal with your horribly disorganized life by yourself.”

  I nodded. “Alright, okay. I’ll drop it for now, but just because you’re doing such a great job helping me get my shit together.”

  5

  Rosie

  About a week after the incident in Dex’s car, and the slightly more tense one in his office, I was woken up by someone banging on my front door again. Filled with frustration and a little bit of rage, I angrily wrenched the door open. I was fully expecting to see my disgusting landlord on the other side, or even worse, Dex. Instead it was a woman, around the same age as me and just as tall, with shoulder length dark brown hair and light brown eyes. She had a gleaming little stud in her left nostril and a large floral tattoo along her right shoulder. The woman stood there so casually, confidently gracing my doorway in nothing but a pair of denim cutoffs, a lacy bralette, and an expectant expression on her dimpled brown face.

  “You gonna let me in or what?”

  Before I could reply, or slam the door in her face, she brushed past me into my apartment.

  “Huh.” She looked around, fiddling with my things. “Your place is bigger than mine.”

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m Nora. I live across the hall.” She pointed behind me, towards the apartment directly across from mine though my still open door.

  “And why are you here, Nora?”

  “The crappy air conditioner in my place is out again and I don’t feel like having to park my gorgeous ass in some douchey downtown cafe all day so-” She waved her hand in front of her in a flourish, as if her explanation made perfect sense.

  “That still doesn’t really explain anything.” I tried, but Nora had already made herself comfortable on my ugly little blue couch, flipping through the smutty romance novel I had facing down on the coffee table. “Do you always just barge into unknown people’s houses?”

  “Only when they’re as adorable as you are.” She winked one of her hazel eyes at me. “What’s your name anyway?”

  I sighed, all but giving up on getting the unfamiliar woman out of my home anytime soon. As much as I hated to admit it, it was nice to have a little company. My only source of human contact since I moved here stemmed from Dex and the nice, older Cuban men who worked at the corner market near my place. I was seriously itching to have a conversation that didn’t revolve around fresh produce or upcoming business appointments.

  “I’m Rosaline.” I paused, a part of me wanted to tell her to call me Rosie, but it felt wrong somehow. No one but Dex had ever referred to me by that name before and I felt weird about letting someone else use it.

  Nora nodded her head, still flipping through the book in front of her. “I approve of your choice in smut, Rosaline.”

  Cheeks burning, I snatched the book out of her hands and tossed it the short distance through the living room onto my bedroom floor. “You really shouldn’t go through people’s things without permission.”

  “Chill out, we all gotta get off somehow.”

  I let out a huff. “This conversation is a little too intimate to be having with someone who essentially just broke into my apartment.”

  “Hey!” she exclaimed. “You let me in using your own free will!”

  Nora threw her head back and let out a full-bellied guffaw
. Her laugh, while slightly obnoxious, was equally infectious. So much so that I quickly found myself cracking up alongside her, reveling in the first genuine moment of happiness I felt in a long time.

  Nora, as it turned out, was also 21, and in her senior year at the University of Miami. She also moonlighted as a waitress in a slightly shady bar downtown, was currently working on completing a science fiction novel, and was a complete slob. She was, or seemed to be, my complete and total opposite, but I couldn’t help but find myself enjoying her company.

  She was candid, fun, and free with herself. None of her traits had ever been present in myself or any of the other people I called my friends over the years. Nora’s presence was much like Dex’s in a way: a total breath of fresh air and the complete opposite of everything I had ever known. Even after spending such a short time with them, I couldn’t help but admire those qualities.

  Nora and I spent the afternoon together, chatting and watching episodes of crappy reality television before it was time for her to get ready for work. I sent her off with an offer to spend some time at my place until she could afford a new window unit. Partly because I wanted to help my new friend out, and partly because I felt genuinely starved for human contact.

  A few minutes after she left, I was rooting around in my kitchen, trying to figure out what to muster up for dinner when my cell rang. I answered without looking at the name on the screen, automatically assuming it was Dex, as he had been the only person other than my landlord to call me since I moved to Miami.

  “Hello?” My voice sounded uncharacteristically cheery, even to my own ears.

  “Hello, Rosaline.”

  I recognized the voice immediately, the deep rumble of it devoid of any sort of warmth or tenderness. The same voice I wished so many times before would comfort me, but never seemed to be able to.

  “Dad.” I couldn’t say anything else.

  “Rosaline, it’s time to stop acting like a little girl.” His tone was exasperated, as it often was when speaking to me. “I don’t know where you are or what you are doing but it’s time to come home.”