Falling for the Babysitter Read online

  I’m almost there. So close. I arch my spine, throwing my head back. Deacon grabs my hips, slamming into me with wonderful force. Almost. Oh god. Oh, yes. So close. I can feel the orgasm racing toward me. Just another second and …

  Someone knocks on the front door and my concentration teeters, the orgasm taking a step back. I stop moving to listen.

  “No, keep going,” Deacon says, still grinding his hips into me. “They’ll come back later.”

  He’s right. I continue to move, rotating my pelvis, trying again to find that magic spot. We find our rhythm again. Deacon reaches up, taking my swollen breasts in his hands and flicking my sensitive nipples the way I like.

  “Your cock is so big, it fills me up,” I say. I love that feeling. Stuffed to my limit. Whole.

  Whenever I talk dirty to him, it gets him wound up every time. He moves faster.

  The knocking comes again. Several times. Then the knocking shifts into pounding. I stop moving again.

  Deacon makes a groan of disappointment.

  “What if it’s about Bailey,” I say.

  “Your mom would’ve called first,” Deacon says.

  That’s true. My phone is on the nightstand, fully charged. I lean over to grab it. No missed calls or texts.

  Whoever is pounding on the door refuses to let up. At first I think maybe it’s a delivery, or a sales person, but they would’ve left by now. It’s getting really annoying.

  “Maybe the neighborhood is on fire and it’s an evacuation,” I say. Every bad thing imaginable crosses my mind and there’s no way I can ignore it any longer.

  “It’s probably just Sam coming to check and see if our curtains match the couch,” Deacon teases.

  “Don’t ever mention your brother when we’re having sex,” I say. “I didn’t think there was anything you could possibly do to turn me off, but you might’ve just found the one thing.”

  He laughs and smacks me on the butt.

  “Please, I need to go check,” I say. “I can’t focus on us until I do.”

  Deacon sighs. “All right. I’ll go check it out.”

  “No,” I say, climbing off of him and wrapping my robe around me. “You stay and keep that thing hard for when I come back.”

  He smiles at me and takes hold of his massive cock, stroking it.

  I wink at him and smile. “Good boy.”

  I wrap my robe tight around me and tie the belt in a knot. I jog into the living room. When I open the door, I’m not sure what to expect, but it definitely not the person standing in front of me.

  The woman doesn’t say anything to me at first, just scrutinizes me, looking up and down from my mussed up hair to my bare feet. She’s a bit older than me. In her thirties. Closer to Deacon’s age. She has bleached hair with long dark roots. Not the kind that’s fashionable right now, but the kind a woman gets when she neglects to keep her salon appointments. She wears an oversized hooded sweatshirt and jeans with boots, and too much makeup. Her thin lips and the harsh set of her mouth make her look severe.

  “Can I help you?” I ask.

  “Where’s Deacon?” she says bluntly.

  I hear footsteps behind me. I turn. Deacon is standing there with only a pair of sweatpants on. “Who is it?” he asks.

  I open the door wider for him to see. His mouth falls open in surprise, then closes, his eyebrows coming together in an angry look. “What the hell are you doing here, Karen?”

  Karen? This woman is his ex-wife? I remember her being prettier than she is now. I was so jealous when she came into the picture. She’s not ugly, really, just … harsh. Like someone who is scraping through life by the skin of her teeth. Deacon says she’s a drunk and a party girl. I wonder if that includes doing drugs as well, because that’s the vibe I’m getting with her.

  6

  Deacon

  I haven’t seen my ex since she walked out on me and our child nearly six months ago. Not a phone call. Not a text. One night she drained both our bank accounts, gathered all of her possessions—and some of mine—and disappeared with a note that simply said, “I can’t do this anymore”.

  Now here she is.

  At my new house where I’m building a new life. One that was supposed to be Karen-free.

  She looks much older than the last time I saw her. Her skin is thin as parchment, hair dry like straw. She looks rode hard and put away wet, as people say. A typical bar fly. All that partying has caught up with her. Not that she was ever stunning to begin with. It wasn’t her looks that attracted me to her, it was her confidence. The way she walked right up to me and said, “You’re taking me on a date.”

  I almost said no that day. I should have. But I hadn’t been on a date in a long time and I thought, what the hell. I’d never been attracted to women so outspoken and so confident before. I thought it would be a nice change from the girls I usually dated. I quickly learned that just because something is different doesn’t mean it’s better. But I had my blinders on. Honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking. Looking at her now, I can’t remember a single thing that attracted me to her at all.

  “How the fuck did you find me?” I demand.

  Remy starts to back away from the door. She didn’t sign up for this. I don’t blame her for not wanting to be part of my drama. Karen isn’t the type of women someone as sweet and innocent as Remy would want to confront—and she shouldn’t have to. Karen is the type who would smile at her face and as soon as she dropped her guard, yank her back by the hair. I’ve actually seen her do that once before when she was drunk at a club. She did it to one of the bottle girls who she thought looked at me wrong. It got us kicked out and permanently banned from the club.

  She was always crazy-jealous. It wasn’t like she actually cared about me. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to allow anyone else to flirt.

  “Sam gave me the address,” Karen says.

  Remy looks completely shocked. She probably thinks Sam betrayed her after they were becoming so close. But I know that’s not the case.

  “Bullshit. Sam would never do that,” I say. If there was one person I know Sam hates more than anyone else, it’s Karen. She was horrible to him from day one.

  She smiles smugly. “I pretended I was an insurance provider on the phone and he spilled all your personal info me. Someone should tell that guy he has a big mouth.”

  Believe me, I have. He never learns. I plan to give him an earful about it next time we talk.

  It makes perfect sense. Karen and her schemes. Some things never change. I would really love to slam the door in her face right now and go back to making love to my beautiful girlfriend who doesn’t deserve to be put through any of this. I can tell Remy doesn’t want to stay, but she does because she wants to be here for me. I don’t want to put her through this anymore.

  “Babe, could you make sure I blew out that candle in the room?” I say to her.

  She lets out a long sigh of relief and gives me a sympathetic smile. “Sure.”

  When she’s gone, I turn back to Karen who watches Remy walk away. “Jesus, Deacon, what is she, twelve?”

  “She’s eighteen and far more mature than you ever were,” I snap. “Why are you here?”

  I never used to stand up to her. She’s not used to being talked to like this. That self-righteous sneer she gives me says it all. She thinks she can come back here and boss me around like she used to. Well, fuck that. Not going to happen. Being with Remy has shown me how I deserve to be treated.

  The look on her face is a mixture between shock and rage. “I’m here to get my daughter.” She spits the words out like they’re poison on her tongue.

  They hit me like a punch in the gut.

  “No,” Remy says. I look behind me where she’s standing at the entrance of the hall. She must’ve been eavesdropping. She looks terrified. “You can’t come back here after being gone for months and just take her. You have no right.” Her voice is high-pitched, frightened. She’s practically in tears. She and Bailey had formed an i
nstant bond. Remy’s the only mother Bailey has ever truly known.

  “I have every right. I’m her mother,” Karen says, her lip curling into a vaudevillian smile.

  “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you anywhere near my daughter. No. Fucking. Way,” I tell her.

  Her smile is hideous. Evil. She wants to rip my new family apart. Destroy everything I’ve built. Everything I will fight to death for. I’ve never raised my hand to a woman. Never even entertained the idea. But seeing that look on her face and knowing she plans to take my daughter from me …

  “You’ll have to take me to court for custody,” I say. “No judge will ever hand Bailey over to you. You’re a drunk and have no stability. You’re practically a stranger to her.”

  “We’ll see about that. I’m her mother. Children belong with their mothers and any judge will see that. I have a full time job and an apartment of my own. There’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

  I can’t believe she’s doing this. She doesn’t want to be a mother. I know her better than that. So what’s her angle? With the way she keeps looking at Remy, I think I can guess. She probably blew through all the guys she’s been dating—literally and figuratively—and once they saw through her shit, most likely, they dumped her. So, as usual, she comes running back to me. This has happened plenty of times in the past. Like a fool, I always took her back because of my dreams of having the perfect family. Things would be good between us for a while. She would do wifely things: make dinners, do laundry, go shopping. But then she’d always get that itch to go party. One night of going out with the girls led to another night, and another, until it was every night. Then she wouldn’t come home at all.

  Now that she knows I’ve moved on, she wants to hurt me. The only way to do that is to go after Bailey. She’s vindictive enough to do it too. I believe that. She’ll fight for custody just to spite me. There’s no way I’m giving my daughter up without a fight.

  She shrugs. “I guess I’ll see you in court,” she says and walks away.

  I slam the door, feeling sick to my stomach. Remy rushes over and wraps her arms around me.

  “Please tell me that didn’t just happen. It’s just a horrible nightmare and we’ll both wake up from it any minute now.”

  I rub her back and hold her tight. “I wish I could tell you that’s the case, but it’s not.”

  “Bailey is like a daughter to me. I love her so much. That woman will ruin her life,” Remy says.

  I sigh. “I know. But Karen’s right. She’s Bailey’s mom. That seems to be important to judges, even though she’s like a toxic mold.”

  “But that woman has been MIA for months. We have a home. Bailey has her own room and her things are here. She would be so scared going and living with a stranger.”

  The clenching in my stomach gets worse imagining how scared my child would be with a woman she hardly knows. Enough time has passed that I don’t think Bailey would even recognize her own mother.

  “I know, but Karen and I are both single parents. Everyone always sides with the mother.”

  “Unless you can provide you have a more stable home,” Remy says eagerly. “Two parents in a loving home is better than one, right?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Marry me,” she says.

  Surprise cuts my words off. I don’t know what to say other than, “Marry you?”

  “Yes, marry me. We can get married and that way when you go to court, a judge will see that Bailey has two loving and devoted parents, a dependable income, and a sibling on the way. Karen might have a job and apartment, but she doesn’t have a home.”

  “Remy, I love you. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I want to marry you more than anything, but I don’t want it to be because you feel you have to in order to appease a judge,” I tell her.

  “That’s not it at all. I love you too. I love Bailey. You and I are going to have a child. There’s nothing holding us back from getting married.”

  The fear I’d been harboring starts to fade. “Hold that thought.”

  “What? Why?” she says.

  “You’ll see.”

  I go into the bedroom and into the closet where I find an old suit jacket that doesn’t fit me anymore in the back of the closet. In the pocket is where I hid the ring I bought for Remy. I’ve had it for a month now. I wanted to plan some huge elaborate proposal, get all our friends and family to pull it off, but I guess it’s too late for that now.

  I grab the ring and hide it behind my back. Then I stand in front of her. I kiss her lips then get down on one knee. I pull out the box from behind my back. Remy puts her hands to her mouth and I open the velvet box, revealing the princess cut solitaire inside.

  “Remy, I love you with all my heart. You’re my soul mate and I want to spend the rest of my life with you and our children. I want to build a life and a home with you and grow old together. Will you marry me?”

  She’s laughing and crying at the same time. Holding her hand out, I slip the ring on her finger. It fits perfectly as I knew it would. I’d taken her mom with me to go shopping for it. We’d taken Remy’s high school graduation ring with us to make sure it was the right size.

  “Of course I’ll marry you,” she says and wraps her arms around my neck. I know she’s looking at it over my shoulder, because she keeps saying, “It’s so beautiful.”

  I pull back and kiss her lips. The kiss deepens. Her hands slip beneath the waist of my sweatpants, finding my ass. She pulls away for a brief moment and says, “We have some unfinished business to attend to.” Then her lips crush against mine once more.

  I lift her into my arms and carry her back to the bed. The robe she’s wearing falls open as she lays back on the bed, spreading her legs for me. Her beautiful pussy is still a bit red with friction from the earlier pounding I’d given her that was so rudely interrupted. I kneel in front of her and lick her worked flesh with my tongue to soothe it. She coos as I gently lap at her folds. It doesn’t take long for her to get wet. She’s easily turned on.

  “I need you inside of me,” she demands.

  I give her clit a kiss and move my way up until I reach her belly which is showing the slightest pooch. I wouldn’t call it a baby bump. Not yet. It’s still just as flat as ever, just a little swollen-looking compared to usual.

  I caress the smooth skin. My child is in there. We made that. Us, together. Our love did that.

  I continue to kiss my way up her body until I’ve reached her lips. Right now it’s not about fucking and getting each other off—even though that’s definitely about to happen. But instead, it’s about making love to her. Being with her. Being inside of her. Showing her, physically, how much I love her.

  She gasps as I enter her. She feels swollen and tight, and slippery wet. Her sheath grips my cock in the best possible way. I thrust my hips, moving in and out of her. She whimpers, begs me not to stop. I don’t. I move faster, harder. Her pussy starts to clench around me. Grabbing me. Holding me until it takes some serious effort to keep moving. Her muscles milk my cock until I can’t take it any longer. With a growl, I release my load inside the most perfect woman I’ve ever seen. The love of my life.

  7

  Remy

  Our wedding is a week later. I don’t know how she did it, but my mom managed to pull it all together in that short amount of time. We have it at Sam’s house in his big backyard, the fall leaves the color of fire, falling down around Deacon and me as we stand with the preacher beneath an archway of orange roses. It’s a fall country theme, with bouquets of dried flowers and sugar maple leaves. Guests sit on hay bales. I wear a knee-length white dress with a long veil and cowgirl boots. Mason jars with candles hang from tree branches and there are icicle lights everywhere. It’s quaint and beautiful and absolutely perfect. The entire neighborhood showed up. There’s a tent in back and a dance floor with a live acoustic band. As the sun goes down, it starts to get chilly, so propane heaters are brought out and the fire
pit is stacked and lit.

  The service itself was wonderful. Deacon and I held Bailey in our arms during it. I vowed not only to be a devoted wife, but a mother to Bailey as well.

  It’s still hard to believe I’m Deacon’s wife. Just a couple months ago I was thinking about what I was going to do with my life now that high school was over. There were no real plans, but I’d been tossing the idea of traveling to Europe around in my head because that’s what my mom had wanted me to do at the time. I never really wanted that, but I wanted to make her happy. Maybe we will still have the chance to do that. It’s where Deacon wants to take me for our honeymoon. Somehow I think my mom got in his ear because he once told me he was afraid of flying.

  I’m married. I’m a married woman. That’s crazy. Especially because the man I’m with is the man of my dreams, and I’m having his baby. Life would be perfect right now if I didn’t have Karen haunting my thoughts. I still can’t get that smug look of hers out of my head. The threats she made to Deacon about taking Bailey. How does she live with herself? How does a woman get married and have a child and then just abandon her family, only to return months later and threaten them?

  I have a feeling it’s because of me. I think if she hadn’t seen me in my robe—clearly nothing underneath—and Deacon in his sweatpants and no shirt, things would’ve happened much differently. I may be young, but I know jealousy when I see it. She must’ve thought Deacon had sat around pining for her while she went off to party.

  “Hey.” My thoughts are interrupted when Deacon comes up to me. He’d been on the dance floor swing dancing with my mom while I sat down to rest my feet. My ankles are swollen. I’m showing more and more signs of being pregnant now even though my belly still hasn’t grown enough to where it’s noticeable. It’s only obvious when I’m naked.