Wait, that's not me...

The chuckle that erupted from his lips couldn't be stopped. "You know I have a larger arm span than you," he pointed out, still chuckling.

"No fair!" she complained, pouting adorably.

"Maybe it's fate," Rowl said conspiratorially, "Someone up there just knew that I'd love you more." He shrugged, feigning humility, trying not to get distracted by her pout.

"Nooooo! I love you more!" she insisted, still pouting.

He shook his eyes from her lips, giving her an fake, confused face as he spread his arms. "I don't know…" he mused, "I think we have the proof right here."

"No no no!" She tried to strain her arms to reach wider.

Cute, was the first thought that popped into his mind as he watched Ginger struggle. Bending down, Rowl wrapped his arms around her waist, mumbling, "This is what these arms are for."

Her eyes widened, and she instinctively reached up to wrap her arms around his neck.

He tilted his head forward, so that their foreheads were touching. "This is what these lips are for," he rushed out, before gently capturing her pout with his lips.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed him back sweetly. He tasted good.

Everything fell into place with her lips on his, his on hers. Arms tightening around her waist, pressing with a little more force, kissing her like his life depended on it.

Ginger moaned softly and played with his hair absently. She opened her mouth slightly if he wanted the invitation, he had it.

Tenderly, Rowl let his tongue explore her mouth, taking in the sweetness. His hands spread on her back as he molded her against him, so soft and perfect.

She was careful not to let any of her bracelets catch in his hair as she wove her fingers in slowly. Her other hand was placed between his shoulder blades, pushing until his upper back.

He gasped into the kiss, listening to her pants. Rumbling out a, "Breath control?", he resumed kissing her into bliss.

She broke away to murmur, "I like this better than running" before diving right back in.

He began peppering kisses down the column of her throat, gently giving love-bites. "I do, too," his breath fanned over her neck.

She moaned softly. "There's people watching us," she whispered, quickly shifting closer to hide her face. She hated being the center of attention.

Slowly, with one final bite, Rowl pulled away from his glorious Ginger. Somehow, he managed to get out: "So, who do you think loves the other more?"

She gently touched where he'd bitten. "Me."

He growled, barely repressing himself from reattaching at her neck. "We'll see…"

"Could we somewhere more private?" she asked quietly.

"But… the zip-line," he whined, purity embedded in his voice.

"Fine…" she conceited reluctantly. "You're very lucky I love you."

"I know," Rowl grinned, "I thank Fate everyday." Lightly, he led Ginger to the end of a slowly expanding line, bouncing on his toes.

"Excited?" she asked with a giggle.

He threw the red-head a look that clearly communicated: I-am-not-excited-for-a-zip-line-I-am-too-old-for-this-shiz-shut-up-you-do-not-see-me-jumping-up-and-down-it-is-a-trick-of-the-light.
Crossing his arms, he pecked her on the cheek. Trying to act like not a seven year old… as the boy jumped up and down.

Ginger giggled. "Calm down or I'll put you in a timeout," she teased.

"I am calm," Rowl pouted, dramatically huffing. Muttering, he let out a low, "I haven't had a timeout in over a couple years."

"Well, I will give you one," she threatened.