The Roses Will Bleed |1|

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I searched through the cabnets like a mad woman; desperately trying to find something I could chew on.

Adam was behind me, a dumb smirk on his beautiful face. I stood on my tip-toes trying to reach the jar of pickles in the far back of the counter. I jumped several times trying to reach it.

Without success, I glared up at the jar.
"You little shit" I growled.

Adam's booming laughter sounded from behind me. "Let me help you sweetheart." He reached up without trouble and placed the jar in my palm.

I smiled and took the jar out of his hand, but he grasped my wrist. I looked up at him. "I'll give you the jar," I gave him a sarcastic smile and tried to take my wrist out out of his grip, but he grabbed my waist, "only if you give me a kiss."

My heart skipped a beat and my face burned. "Umm," I stared at his shirt.

"Not a make-out session; just one little peck, unless you want more" Adam smirked and leaned down, but I turned my head to the side.

"How bout' you go get me some food first; and then I'll consider..umm k-kissing you" I stumbled over my words, trying not to look at his crimson eyes and devilish smirk.

"Well I don't know, you might trick me" he says, eyes sparkling mischievously.

"I might" I look past his shoulder to the jar of pickles that were practically calling my name. I was dead serious when it came to food.

"Adam sweetie can you please let me go so I can eat these damn pickles" I get irritated quickly when I'm hungry.

"Give me a kiss" he says deeply. I lick my lips, still staring at the green little devils.

I feel him trace his thumb over my lips; pulling on my bottom one so they become parted. I shake my head.

Adam chuckles. "To bad." And before I can even blink, I feel a pair soft, cold lips press against mine. The kiss is gentle and sweet, but short-- too short.

My eyes linger closed for a few moments, trying to savor the feeling of his plump lips on mine. And when I open my eyes, he isn't in front of me anymore. I sigh and grin; my fingertips tracing my mouth.

I looked down at the pickles, and I no longer crave their vingar taste. But something more sweet than sugar; with the right amount of bitterness.

Adam is what I crave. And I crave him more than my innocent self can imagine.