“He cheated on me,” she said, voice flat, staring at the ceiling. “In St. Tropez. Some French chick he met at that club.”
Rafe’s jaw tightened, his beer pausing halfway to his mouth. Her boyfriend, ex now, he guessed, was a dick anyway, but this?
“Fuck him,” he said, setting the bottle down hard. “You’re too good for that asshole.”
She laughed, bitter, then looked at him, eyes glinting with something dangerous.
“Liar.”
But it sounded like she was daring him, and that was all it took. Rafe was on her in a heartbeat, pinning her to the couch, his lips crashing into hers, no holding back. She kissed him back just as hard, hands yanking at his shirt, manicured nails scraping his skin. The tension from weeks of teasing in St. Tropez snapped like a rubber band, and they were tearing at each other’s clothes, her shorts hitting the floor, his jeans following.
He shoved her thighs apart, dropping between them without a word.
“He never did this right, did he?” Rafe growled, remembering a drunk confession she’d made months ago: how her ex barely went down. Rafe wasn’t that guy. He spread her open, her pink pussy already wet, and dove in—tongue flat and slow, licking up her slit, tasting her like he’d been starving for it. She gasped, hips bucking, fingers twisting in his hair.
“Fuck—Rafe—”
He sucked her clit hard, flicking it with his tongue, then buried his face deeper, lapping at her like a man possessed, her juices coating his chin.
“Taste so fuckin’ good,” he mumbled against her, thrusting his tongue inside, making her moan loud and desperate.
She came fast, thighs clamping around his head, shuddering as he licked her through it, not stopping until she was a trembling mess. He pulled back, wiping his mouth with a smirk, climbing up to kiss her hard, letting her taste herself on his lips.
“That’s how it’s done,” he said, shoving his boxers down. His cock sprang free, and her eyes darkened with want. An hunger that she had been holding back.
“Fuck me,” she demanded, spreading her legs wider, and Rafe didn’t need to be told twice. He lined up and slammed into her, one brutal thrust that buried him balls-deep, her pussy tight and hot around him. She cried out, nails raking his back, and he set a punishing pace, the couch creaking under them.
“Gonna fuck you so good he’ll feel it,” he growled, grabbing her tits, squeezing them hard before ducking down to suck one into his mouth. He bit the nipple, tongue swirling, then switched to the other, sucking hard enough to leave marks. “These are mine now—been dreaming about them.”
Her moans were loud, egging him on as he pounded into her, the wet slap of their bodies filling the room.
“You’re so—fucking—big,” she gasped, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper.
“Look at you, taking my cock like a fuckin’ champ—so tight, so wet for me. He never fucked you like this, did he?” He grinned and she shook her head, breathless, a sign that made him thrust harder, like he was getting revenge. Fuck that dickhead Jack. He thought.
The door banged open mid-thrust, and her ex stormed in—Jake, red-faced and wide-eyed, keys dangling in his hand like he’d planned some grand apology. He froze, staring at them: Rafe balls-deep in his girl, her legs spread, tits bouncing as he fucked her senseless. Rafe didn’t stop, didn’t even flinch. He kept going, hips snapping forward, her pussy clenching around him as she moaned louder, caught in the heat of it.
“Look at this, huh,” Rafe called out, voice dripping with venom. He grabbed her jaw, tilting her head toward Jake, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Look how I’m fuckin’ her good—better than you ever did, you piece of shit.”
Jake’s mouth opened, but no words came out, his face twisting with rage and humiliation. Rafe smirked, slamming into her harder, making her cry out, her eyes locked on her ex as Rafe railed her.
“She’s mine now—so, watch her take a real man cock.”
He shifted, hooking her legs over his shoulders, spreading her wider, and went deeper, his cock hitting spots that had her screaming.
“Oh, fuck—Rafe—yes—” she chanted, too far gone to care who was watching. Rafe’s hands gripped her thighs, his pace brutal, filthy words spilling out.
“Gonna fill this pussy up—make it mine. He’s never getting you back after this.” Jake stood there, rooted, as Rafe sucked her tit again, biting down, then licked a stripe up her neck, owning every inch of her.
Her pussy tightened, her second orgasm crashing through her, and Rafe felt it, her walls pulsing, milking him.
“That’s it, baby, come all over my cock,” he groaned, thrusting through it, his own edge hitting fast. He didn’t pull out—fuck that. He buried himself deep, groaning loud as he came, pumping her full of his cum, hot spurts flooding her, so much it started leaking out around his cock even before he finished. “Fuck, take it all,” he rasped, hips jerking as he emptied inside her.
He pulled out slow, her pussy a mess, pink, swollen, dripping with his load, creamy white streaking down her thighs. Rafe glanced at Jake, still frozen in the doorway, and smirked, spreading her open with his fingers so her ex could see his masterpiece.
“Look at that—filled her up, fucked her right. You’re done, champ.”
She lay there, panting, fucked-out and glowing, a smug little smile on her lips as she caught her breath.
Jake’s fists clenched, his face purple with fury, but he didn’t move... just stood there, watching his ex get claimed in a way he’d never come close to. Rafe leaned back, cocky as hell, wiping sweat from his brow.
“Get the fuck out,” he said, voice cold, and Jake finally turned, slamming the door behind him. She laughed, pulling Rafe down for a kiss.
“You’re an asshole,” she murmured, but her eyes said she loved it—and he wasn’t done with her yet.
Rafe had been deep in sleep when he stirred, a warm pressure rousing him. His girl, clad only in a thin pink camisole, was straddling him, her hips grinding slowly against his cock, the thin fabric of her panties rubbing along his length, teasing him awake. Her movements were deliberate, a sly smirk on her lips as she felt him harden beneath her, her pussy already wet, leaving a damp spot on his boxers.
“Baby, what the fuck?” he growled, his hands instinctively grabbing her hips as his cock throbbed, fully awake now.
She giggled softly, leaning down to kiss his chest, her hair brushing his skin, but he wasn’t about to let her tease him and get away with it.
“You think you can just grind on me like that and not get fucked?” he rasped, flipping her onto her back with a swift move, pinning her wrists above her head as he yanked her panties down, the fabric tearing slightly in his haste. He freed his cock, precum beading at the tip, and thrust into her in one hard stroke, her pussy stretching around him, her walls clenching as she gasped, “Rafey!”
The late-night urgency fueled him, his hips snapping against hers, the bed creaking as he fucked her with raw intensity. Her moans filled the room, her legs wrapping around his waist, but after a few minutes, he came hard, his cock pulsing as he spilled deep inside her, her pussy milking him, so tightly. He didn’t stop and a few minutes later, he came again, his cum flooding her, leaking out around his shaft as he groaned, his forehead pressed to hers. She was panting beneath him, her body slick with sweat, but her eyes were heavy, sleep tugging at her.
She hadn’t even gotten close, her pussy aching but not there, and exhaustion won out.
Wanting to end it, she decided to fake it—a decision she’d never made before.
With an exaggerated moan, she threw her head back, her voice loud and theatrical, “Oh, Rafey, yes! I’m cumming!”
Her body arched dramatically, her hands clutching the sheets, but the over-the-top performance was a dead giveaway; her pussy didn’t clench, her breathing didn’t hitch the way it usually did.
Rafe froze mid-thrust, his cock still buried inside her, his breath ragged as he pulled back to look at her.
“What the fuck was that?” he demanded with anger, his hands gripping her hips tightly.
Her eyes widened, realizing he’d caught her, and she stammered, “I… I just came, I swear!”
“Bullshit,” he snapped, his hurt flashing in his eyes, a sting of betrayal cutting through his arousal. She’d never faked it before, and the realization that she’d rather sleep than let him please her ignited a mix of fury and determination. “You think you can fake it with me, princess?”
He pulled out, his cum dripping from her swollen pussy, and flipped her onto her back, spreading her thighs wide. He started with her nipples, knowing how sensitive she was, his fingers pinching and squeezing the hard peaks, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger until she whimpered, her back arching.
“Rafey, please,” she whined, but he didn’t relent, his other hand sliding down to her clit, toying with it in slow, torturous circles, the pad of his thumb brushing the sensitive bud just enough to edge her, her pussy clenching around nothing, slick pooling beneath her.
When he felt her hips buck, a telltale sign she was close, he slapped her tits, the sharp sting making her cry out, her nipples reddening as the pleasure stalled.
“Beg for it,” he growled, his fingers returning to her clit, rubbing faster now, then slowing, keeping her on the edge, her body trembling, her moans turning to desperate sobs. He edged her again and again, slapping her tits when she got too close, the sound of flesh against flesh echoing in the room, her skin flushing pink, her pussy dripping with need.
“Please, Rafey, I’m sorry!” she begged, her voice breaking, tears streaking her cheeks as she writhed beneath him. “Please let me cum, I need it, please!”
He watched her, his cock hardening again at her pleas, and finally relented, positioning himself between her legs.
“You’re gonna cum for me, baby, and you’re going to do it good,” he said, thrusting into her hard, his cock filling her completely, stretching her walls as she screamed, her hands gripping his shoulders.
He fucked her with deep strokes, his hips slamming against hers, the bed shaking as he rubbed her clit with his thumb, the pressure building inside her.
“Take it, princess,” he growled, his fingers digging into her hips, his cock hitting her cervix with every thrust, her pussy clenching around him.
Her moans turned to wails, her body tensing, and with a final, brutal thrust, she came undone, squirting hard, a gush of warm liquid spraying from her pussy, soaking his cock, his thighs, the sheets beneath them. Her orgasm ripped through her, her walls pulsing, her body convulsing as she screamed his name, “Rafey, oh fuck!”
He kept going, milking every last shudder from her, his thumb still on her clit, drawing out the pleasure until she was a sobbing mess.
When she finally stilled, her chest heaving, her pussy still twitching around him, he pulled out, slapping her clit with his cock, drops of cum mixing with hers, dripping down her.
He gathered her into his arms and held her close, kissing her forehead.
“Don’t ever fake it again, baby,” he murmured, his hand stroking her hair as she nodded weakly, too spent to argue.
The tension had been simmering all day, erupting into a full-blown argument. Rafe and Y/N had clashed over his late nights at the office, her exhaustion from managing Marie Thérèse’s kindergarten routine, and a misinterpreted comment. Voices rose, sharp words flew. By the time Marie was tucked into bed, Y/N retreated into silence, her lips sealed tight as she moved through the house like a ghost, avoiding Rafe’s gaze.
For hours, Rafe tried to breach her wall, and his apologies met with a cold shoulder. He brought her tea, left notes, even sat beside her on the couch, but she stared ahead, her jaw set. Finally, his patience snapped into a different kind of resolve. He cornered her in their bedroom, her back to him as she folded laundry, the soft rustle of fabric the only sound.
“Are you gonna talk to me?” he growled.
When she didn’t respond, he stepped closer, his hands finding her waist, pulling her against him. She stiffened, but he didn’t relent, his lips brushing her ear.
“Stop it,” he murmured. “You’re being a fucking brat.”
Before she could protest, he spun her around, bending her over the edge of the bed, her silk nightgown riding up to expose her full, post-pregnancy curves—hips wider, ass rounder, a testament to carrying Marie. He yanked her panties down, the fabric pooling at her ankles, and freed his cock, already hard and throbbing with need.
“Fine, don’t talk but you’re gonna feel me, baby,” he said, thrusting into her from behind with an aggressive edge, his length stretching her tight, wet cunt in one deep stroke. She gasped, her silence breaking into a choked moan, her hands gripping the sheets as he set a relentless pace, his hips slamming against her ass with a rhythmic smack.
Rafe tangled his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back gently but firmly, exposing the curve of her neck as he leaned down to kiss it.
“Fuck, look at you,” he praised, his voice rough with desire. “This ass, so fucking perfect. Fuck—that pussy’s still so tight.”
His free hand slid around to cup her breast, squeezing the fuller flesh, teasing her hardened nipple through the fabric. She whimpered, her body responding despite her anger, her arousal slicking his cock as he pounded into her, the bed creaking under their weight. He teased her further, his thumb brushing her clit, circling it with deliberate pressure, sparking her nerves to life.
“You love this, don’t you?” he taunted, his breath hot against her ear. “Missed me fucking you like this, showing you who you belong to.”
Her moans grew louder, her hips pushing back to meet his thrusts as he pulled her hair again, guiding her into a deeper arch.
“So goddamn beautiful,” he groaned, his cock hitting her sweet spot, her walls clenching around him as she finally spoke, her voice breaking.
“Rafe… please…”
That was all he needed.
He thrust harder, his balls slapping against her clit, over and over. “That’s it, mama, take it all. Love this body—every inch of you.”
Her climax built, her body trembling, and as he felt her tighten, he came with a guttural moan, spilling deep inside her. She followed, her orgasm crashing through her, a cry escaping as her legs shook. He collapsed gently over her, still holding her close, his lips brushing her ear.
“I love you, bunny,” he whispered, and this time, she turned her head, meeting his eyes with a soft, “I love you too.”
content WARNING; voracious!rafe, toxic relationship, deep throat, throat fucking, degradation, powe dynamics, dick slapping, +18 MDNI.
Rafe didn’t trust anyone, least of all Y/N. Checking her phone was routine, a habit he’d drilled into their relationship like a fucking law. She’d hand it over without a fight, fingers trembling as she unlocked it for him, knowing he’d scroll through every text, every app, every dirty little corner of her digital life. Usually, it was boring shit— selfies with her friends, some sappy playlist, a few flirty texts she’d sent him late at night when he was out handling business. But today, he found something that made his blood run hot.
Tumblr.
She’d never mentioned it, never even hinted at it. The app sat there, buried in a folder labeled “Random,” like she thought he wouldn’t notice. He tapped it open, and the first thing that hit him was a photo; a girl on her knees, tongue lolling out like a goddamn slut, face dripping with thick, white cum. Her eyes were glazed, fucking submissive. His grip tightened on the phone, knuckles whitening. His girlfriend had been hiding this shit from him, his sweet, innocent girl, scrolling through filth like some secret slut.
He didn’t say a word when he tossed the phone back to her. She was sprawled on the couch, legs tucked under her, hair spilling over her shoulders, wearing one of his oversized shirts that barely covered her ass. Those big eyes flicked up at him, catching the storm in his face, but she didn’t have time to ask before he was on her.
“Get on your fucking knees,” he growled, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her off the couch. She yelped, stumbling to the floor, her hands scrambling for balance as he dragged her down.
“Rafe, what—” she started, but he cut her off, unzipping his jeans with one hand, the other still tangled in her hair, pulling so hard her scalp burned. His cock sprang free, already half-hard from the image seared into his brain and the fact that Y/N had kept it from him.
Secrets. He hated secrets.
“You think you can hide shit from me?” he spat, shoving her face toward his dick. Her lips parted on instinct, a soft whimper escaping, but he didn’t care. He thrust forward, slamming into her mouth, the head of his cock hitting the back of her throat so fast she gagged, eyes watering instantly. “Tumblr, huh? Looking at girls taking cum like good little sluts? That what you want, baby?”
She tried to pull back, choking, spit dripping down her chin, but he held her there, fingers digging into her skull. Her tongue flattened against him and he groaned, fucking her throat harder, the wet gluck-gluck of her gagging filling the room. Her hands grabbed at his thighs, nails digging in, but she didn’t fight—didn’t want to either.
“Obedient,” he mocked, mimicking the caption as he rammed himself deeper, feeling her throat spasm around him. “That’s what you wanna be, right? Some dumb slut with her tongue out, begging for it?”
Her mascara streaked down her cheeks, mixing with the drool and pre-cum leaking from her stretched lips. She so looked wrecked, those pretty eyes wide and pleading, but he didn’t slow down.
“You don’t get to keep secrets, baby. You’re mine—every fucking thought, every dirty little fantasy.”
He pulled out just long enough for her to gasp, a string of spit connecting her mouth to his cock, before he shoved back in, deeper this time, holding her head flush against him until her nose pressed into his pelvis. She thrashed, throat convulsing, but he didn’t let up, his balls tightening as he watched her struggle.
“Take it,” he snarled. “Take it like that bitch on your phone.”
When he finally came, it was messy, flooding her throat, spilling out the corners of her mouth as she coughed and sputtered. He yanked her off, letting her fall back onto her heels, chest heaving, face a fucking mess; cum dripping down her chin, lips swollen, eyes red. She stared up at him, dazed, just like the girl in the photo. He smirked, wiping his dick on her cheek and slapping her with it before stepping back.
“Next time, you tell me what you’re into,” he said. “Or I’ll fuck it out of you again.”
After they thought Marie Thérèse was asleep in her nursery. Rafe and his wife had stolen a moment alone, their lips meeting in a slow, heated kiss, Rafe’s hands roaming over Y/N’s hips as he pulled her closer on the bed. His breath was hot against her neck as he murmured, “I want you, bunny,” his fingers tracing the edge of her silk nightgown.
She hesitated, her hands resting on his chest, a soft smile playing on her lips.
“Maybe not tonight, Rafe,” she whispered, her body still tender from the day’s exhaustion.
But Rafe leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he insisted, “I can’t wait any longer, baby. There’s nothing to worry about—Marie’s sleeping like a rock.”
His hands slid under her gown, his touch igniting a spark, and for a moment, she wavered, her resolve weakening under his persistence.
But then, a sudden knock on the door shattered the moment, followed by a small, cheerful voice.
“Mommy? Daddy?”
They froze, pulling apart as their hearts skipped a beat. Rafe sighed, a mix of annoyance and amusement crossing his face as he slid off the bed and opened the door. There stood Marie, her hair tousled, clutching her favourite plush goose, a wide grin lighting up her sleepy face.
“Hi, Daddy!” she chirped, her voice bright despite the late hour.
Rafe rubbed the back of his neck, frustrated. “Marie, sweetheart, what are you doing up? You’re supposed to be in bed.”
She toddled past him, her plushie dragging behind, and climbed onto the bed with surprising agility.
“I wanna sleep with you! Let’s have a sleepover!” she declared, plopping down and making herself comfortable, her small body sprawling across the mattress.
Rafe knelt beside her, trying to reason. “But you’re a big girl now, Marie. Big girls sleep in their own beds, remember? You’ve got your princess room all set up.”
He offered an encouraging smile, hoping to coax her back, but Marie shook her head, her hair bouncing.
“No, Daddy! I want a slumb bumber!” she insisted, the word “slumber party” mangled into her own adorable twist.
Y/N stifled a laugh, sliding over to make room as Marie settled between them, her tiny frame stretching out in a starfish pose, claiming the entire bed with her little limbs.
Rafe exchanged a resigned glance with his wife, his earlier desire fading into a fond smile as he climbed back in. Marie, even though Y/N had stopped breastfeeding a year ago, instinctively reached out in her half-asleep state, her small hand sneaking under her mother’s nightgown to rest on her breast; a lingering habit that helped her drift off.
Y/N sighed softly, adjusting the fabric to accommodate her daughter’s touch, while Rafe wrapped an arm around them both, his annoyance melting into contentment. He couldn’t complain when Marie’s soft snores filled the air, her presence, even though was interruption to their plans, it felt cosy, warm, loving.
content WARNING: Rafe Cameron × Bunny!Reader marriage, mentions of breastfeeding, postpartum ovulation, pain, cock warming, sexual content, +18 MDNI.
based on this request HERE!
Ovulation made her body a battleground of hormones, and the pain this time was excruciating—a sharp pinch deep in her pelvis, radiating through her lower abdomen like a cruel twist. Between the exhaustion of breastfeeding and the endless days caring for their four-month-old, the pain was her enemy, sapping what little energy she had left.
Rafe noticed immediately when he stepped in, his sharp eyes catching the tension in her shoulders, the way her lips pressed into a thin line. He’d been working late, but his concern overriding everything else.
“Let me take her,” he said softly, his voice a low rumble as he reached for Marie Thérèse.
She hesitated, her arms trembling, but she nodded, too tired to argue. Rafe lifted the baby with practised care, cradling her against his chest as he murmured a quiet lullaby, carrying her to her crib. The room fell silent as he tucked her in, her small breaths evening out, and he returned to find his wife gone from the nursery.
He found her in their bedroom, sprawled on the floor in a starfish position, her silk nightgown hiked up to her thighs, her head tilted back as she stared at the ceiling Her face was etched with discomfort, a soft groan escaping her lips.
“I can feel this horrible pinch,” she muttered, her voice laced with frustration, her hands pressing uselessly against her lower belly. “It’s so annoying.”
Rafe’s heart clenched at the sight, and he moved quickly, kneeling beside her.
“Come here, baby,” he said, sliding his arms under her, lifting her effortlessly as she winced, her body limp against his chest.
He carried her to the bed, laying her down gently on the soft sheets, her nightgown slipping further to reveal the curve of her hips.
Rafe’s hands were warm and firm as he began massaging her, starting at her belly, his fingers kneading the tense muscles just above her pelvis.
“You need to relax a bit,” he murmured, his voice soothing but firm. “Breastfeeding and taking care of Marie all day is wearing you out, mama.” His hands moved lower, working her thighs with slow strokes, easing the tightness in her legs as she sighed, her body starting to unwind under his touch. He shifted to her feet, his thumbs pressing into the arches, rubbing circles that drew a soft moan from her lips. “I’ll take care of everything tomorrow,” he promised, his gaze locked on her face, watching the pain ebb. “You just rest.”
Her eyes fluttered open, a mix of exhaustion and longing in her gaze as she looked at him.
“I need you,” she whispered, but she shook her head weakly. “But I’m too tired…”
Her words trailed off, her body aching for him yet drained from the day. Rafe’s cock twitched at her admission, his desire for her simmering beneath his concern, but he nodded, understanding.
“Alright,” he said, sliding onto the bed beside her. He pulled her close, guiding her to straddle his lap, her nightgown bunching around her waist as he freed his hardening cock from his boxers, the thick length pressing against her slick, fertile cunt. “Just feel me, then,” he murmured, easing her down slowly, her tight heat enveloping him inch by inch.
She gasped softly as he filled her, her pussy stretching around his girth, the sensation a mix of relief and pleasure despite her fatigue. She nestled against his chest, her face buried in the crook of his neck, her breath warm against his skin as she moaned faintly. Rafe’s arms wrapped around her, holding her tight, his cock buried deep but still, resisting the urge to thrust as he felt her pulse around him.
“Fuck, you feel so good, mama,” he groaned, his hands stroking her back, keeping her secure. Her hips shifted slightly, a subconscious grind, and the friction sent a wave through her, her clit brushing against him as her arousal built.
She came with a small, relieved sound, a whimper escaping her lips as her body shuddered, her cunt clenching around his cock, milking him without him moving. The orgasm was gentle but profound, easing the pain in her pelvis, her exhaustion melting into a soft haze. Rafe kissed her forehead, his lips lingering as he held her close, his own need unfulfilled but his heart full.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered, letting her rest against him, her breathing evening out as she drifted toward sleep, still impaled on him. “Sleep tight, mama.”
content: rafe × bimbo!reader, mentions of fight, suggestive message, suggestive.
They weren’t used to fight but that morning everything was a mess. It was one of those dumb fights that snowballed out of nothing—something about Rafe leaving dishes in the sink and her snapping that he never helped, him firing back that she was “dramatic” and “always on his case.” Words were flung, doors were slammed, and by the time Rafe stormed out of the penthouse to head to Cameron Development, he was pissed, his jaw clenched, muttering under his breath about how she drove him up the wall sometimes. She wasn’t thrilled either, curled up on the couch, pouting at the TV, but the second he left, she felt that familiar tug in her chest. She hated fighting with her Rafey, especially over something so stupid.
By noon, she’d hatched a plan. No way was she letting him stew at work all day, grumpy and annoyed at her. So, she slipped into their bedroom, rummaging through her drawer until she found the perfect weapon: a pair of tight white shorts she’d bought as a joke, with “ARE YOU MAD AT ME?” printed in bold, cheeky letters across the ass. Grinning to herself, she stripped down, pulled them on, and climbed onto the bed, lying face-down so her body was the focus, her ass on full display, the shorts hugging her butt just right, practically screaming for attention. She angled her phone just so, snapping a pic that showed everything but her face, her long legs stretched out, the shorts riding up to tease.
She opened her chat with Rafe, attached the photo, and added a single pouty face emoji, before hitting send. Then she waited, biting her lip, already giggling at the thought of his reaction.
🥺
At the office, Rafe was mid-meeting, half-listening to some suit drone on about zoning permits when his phone buzzed. He glanced down, expecting a work email, but saw her name instead. Opening the message, his eyes widened, a choked laugh escaping before he could stop it. The pic, her perfect ass in those ridiculous shorts, it was a lot. His annoyance melted, replaced by a rush of heat and that stupid, lovesick feeling she always gave him.
He coughed, shifting in his seat to hide the growing bulge in his slacks, and quickly typed back:
“Baby, you’re not playin’ fair. I’m comin’ home early to deal with you.”
