He moved to position himself in front of you, just inches between you, and your breath caught in your throat as he ran a slow hand up your thigh, stopping just short of the hem of your skirt. “What’s not appropriate is the way you’re pressing those pretty legs together to stop yourself from dripping onto the tiles,” he answered, and your stomach dropped. “Because you're…you’re married and I’m…it’s not appropriate,” you were whispering now, thighs clenching together to hide just how much he was actally affecting you. “No? Why not?” He tilted his head at you. “I don’t think you should say that,” you stuttered out, and Rafe couldn’t hold back the soft laugh that escaped him then. “You’re too beautiful” he mumbled back, and your eyes snapped up to find him gazing intently at you. “You’re too nice,” you mumbled, and Rafe wantedto laugh at that. Rafe was slowly making his way closer to you, stalking across the room until he was right next to you, hands in his pockets as he rested his hip against the island. You shook your head at the compliment, and Rafe smirked at the bashful look on your face. “He’s been great, he ate all his dinner and then we read for a little before he went to bed. “How’s he been?” Rafe asked, gesturing upstairs, and you smiled at the question. You ignored the way he rolled his sleeves up, exposing muscled forearms, focusing intently on wiping down the surface in front of you.
“In here!” You called back, and he steeped through the doorway, abandoning his suit jacket on a chair before leaning against the counter. You heard him walk up the driveway, keys jingling in the door, and then his voice was calling out your name. You were stood in the kitchen when the headlights washed over the front of the house, and you knew it would be Rafe coming home from work, since his wife was away on a girls trip this week. And if anything, that made Rafe even more desperate for you. You were so fucking innocent, with those doe eyes and pouty lips, totally unaware of just how much you affected him. He was losing his fucking mind and the worst part was, you didn’t even know. He couldn’t take another day jerking off in the shower thinking about how you’d look bent over his knee, another dinner hiding his hard cock under the table as he watched the way your lips wrapped around your beer bottle The problem was Rafe.įrom the second he saw you, you’d invaded his every thought, seeping into his goddamn dreams, and he was coming to the end of his patience with it all.
Fucking the babysitter tumblr how to#
You knew how to calm him down, how to keep him entertained, and the exact way he liked his pancakes cooked, down to the way he liked them cut into stars. His wife had hired you while he was away on business, and apparently his son had taken to you instantly, the 3-year-old declaring you his new best friend in a matter of hours, and that was that. That was his first thought when you introduced yourself, little skirt swinging around your thighs, innocent smile on your face. Summary: A married Rafe has a thing for his son’s babysitter.Ī/N: It’s back! Slowly moving everything to the new account.
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