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dark-fics-4-you · 5 months ago

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Crying in the Country Club | ch. III

Dark!Rafe Cameron x Dark!Reader

Warnings: domestic abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, strangling, choking, gaslighting, self harm (very, very brief and not a recurring thing), drug use, alcohol, age gap crush, obsessive thoughts, controlling behaviors, kinda baby trapping fantasies

You thought that you were imagining it at first, that your wishful daydreaming was making you see things, but after the fourth time you caught him staring at you, you knew that it couldn’t have been a coincidence.

Stretching out on one of the lounge chairs by the pool, you had chosen a light pink string bikini for the day, one that you had purchased with Rafe in mind. Your matching pink sunglasses helped you watch him without looking too conspicuous.

It wasn’t unusual for Mr. Cameron to do yard work, but considering the balmy heat, you were a bit surprised to see him trimming the grass and pulling up roots as you suntanned.

Much to your delight, he had opted to work shirtless, and you snuck peaks of his sweaty, muscular chest when he was looking away from you.

You were grateful as well that Charlie wasn’t even here today. After your golf game, Rafe had texted you, reminding you that their pool was open anytime you wanted.

Getting that text after such a close time with Mr. Cameron had almost made your heart explode. You were certain he was sending you signals that he was interested.

And with the number of times you had caught him sneaking glimpses of you, just today, you were feeling incredibly confident.

The sun warmed you and you felt a bit sleepy and you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering.

You so desperately wished that he would come up to you as you laid face down on the chair with your bikini top undone and pull off your skimpy bottoms before covering your mouth and stuffing his cock into you.

That thought had you squeezing your thighs together and you wondered if he would be able to tell how wet you were if he looked over at you right now.

Flipping over onto your back, you made sure your tits were covered by your bikini before relaxing. When you looked out across the lawn, you say him staring at you again, but he held your gaze for a few moments this time before turning back to the yard work.

A jolt of pleasure ran up your spine and you felt your bikini bottoms grow slicker when you had met his eyes.

Five times in one day couldn’t have been a coincidence.

Mr. Cameron was checking you out, and that thought alone made you feel so much more attracted to him.

You closed your eyes, wondering if he felt conflicted at all, considering his wife, but given how much time you had spent with them, you struggled to imagine that he had any real attachment to her.

He didn’t understand how much you could offer him, how much you wanted to give to him.

His family was a mess, that was true, but why should that stop you?

Once Rafe understood how much better you were than Rebecca, and how good you could be as the mother of his child, you were sure that he wouldn’t hesitate to leave her for you.

You wanted so badly to give Rafe the family he deserved. Someone who would stay at home while he earned the family money, ready to bend to his every demand. Someone put together enough to handle raising a child that would actually amount to something.

But how could you make him see? Doing chores around his house was a good start. You wanted him to see you stepping up where his wife wouldn’t. And to be honest, you wanted Rebecca to feel threatened by the risk of you taking her place.

Rafe deserved someone who could give him all of the things that he needed in life. Someone who was pretty, young, and submissive to his every desire, completely unlike his current wife.

You despised thinking about the fact that they slept together. You hoped that they hadn’t in a long time since Charlie was born, and based on their attitudes towards each other, you thought that may have been the case.

Why would he even want her when you were so close?

At the sound of his deep voice coming from right beside you made you jump.

“How’s the suntanning today, kid?”

Your eyelids cracked opened to see him standing over your chair, and you quickly reached behind you back to tie your bikini top.

“You tell me,” you sweetly smiled as you sat up, pulling the string of your top a bit to the side to show off the contrast of your tan vs the line that had been covered.

His eyes followed your movements, but you swore you saw him also quickly glance at your chest, eyeing the way your perky tits threatened to spill out of the skimpy material.

He hummed in response, his adam’s apple bobbing before he cleared his throat, seemingly shaking himself out of a thought, “looks nice.”

“Thanks!” You beamed, reaching up to remove your sunglasses. “Are you still working on the lawn?”

“I was about to go inside actually, getting too hot out here,” he paused, considering his next words. “You wouldn’t want to share a drink with me before dinner, would you?”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you maintained your composure, shrugging as if you weren’t practically jumping out of your skin at his offer.

“Sure, that sounds great!”

After walking inside, you told him what you wanted before grabbed your bag and walking to Charlie’s room to change into shorts and a pink top that perfectly accentuated your cleavage.

When you walked back downstairs, Rafe was at the bar, mixing your drink and holding his glass of whiskey.

“Thanks, Mr. Cameron!” You took a seat at the bar across from him.

He chuckled at that and shook his head, “Y’know you don’t have to always call me ‘Mr. Cameron’, kid.”

“I know! That’s just what my dad taught me… Rafe.” You giggled as you emphasized his name. “It just feels more polite.”

Rafe finished pouring your drink out of the mixer, and you grabbed the cool glass when he passed it to you.

He watched as you brought the rim of the glass to your lips, taking a sip and enjoying the sweetness.

“What do you think, Y/N?”

“Mmm, it’s really good!” You took another sip, this time tasting more of the alcohol.

Your gaze landed on the sweating glass in Rafe’s hand.

“Could I try yours? I’ve never had whiskey before.”

He laughed, passing the glass to you and you put your cocktail down on the table.

“You’re probably not gonna like it kid.”

You shrugged with a smile before raising the glass to your mouth and taking a small sip.

Rafe was right.

The high alcohol content brought an immediate heat to your face, and the flavor made you gag a bit.

He laughed when your face contorted in disgust, “what did I tell ya?”

You quickly grabbed your sweet drink to wash the nasty flavor from your mouth before giggling.

“Oh my god, Rafe, how do you drink that stuff?” You exclaimed in disbelief.

“It’s not so bad. You get used to it after 35 years,” he chuckled, grabbing the glass when you passed it back to him.

You suddenly realized that Rebecca was absent. She was always the one who cooked around the house.

It was actually very odd that she hadn’t made an appearance today.

“Where’s Rebecca?” You casually asked, hoping he didn’t pick up on the nervousness in your voice.

Rafe frowned, looking at his drink for a moment before taking a swig.

“She hasn’t been feeling great.”

“Oh.”

“She’s upstairs sleeping, probably won’t even come down for dinner,” he chuckled, but it lacked humor, and you couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.

There was an awkward silence as Rafe seemed uncomfortably lost in thought. You were beginning to think that you had said something wrong, running over your conversation and thinking about all the ways you might have just fucked everything up, but then the moment passed as soon as it came, and Rafe was smiling at you again.

“So I guess that means cooking is up to us tonight, Y/N.”

You happily set to work with him after deciding on what to make for dinner, chicken pasta in a creamy red sauce.

Chopping the required veggies wasn’t difficult, although Rafe did have to step in to help you cut the onions when you got too teary eyed.

Washing your hands off at the sink gave you more opportunities to sneak peaks of him as he cut the chicken breasts into better portions.

You liked watching the skillful way he chopped up the meat and vegetables. There was something undeniably attractive about watching Mr. Cameron cook.

It wasn’t a sight you got to see very often considering Rebecca usually handled the meals.

Returning to your cutting board of veggies, you started cutting the tomatoes into chunks when a sick idea crossed your mind.

You only hesitated for a moment before placing your finger in the way of the knife’s path, careful to only nick yourself, but you still hissed in genuine pain when it sliced into your skin.

“Fuck-” you cursed, not even having to fake your reaction as your voice wobbled. “Mr. Cameron?”

You turned to him, showing him the cut on your finger as blood began dripping out of it. Tears pooled in your eyes, threatening to spill over.

“Shit,” his arm came to your back as he led you to the kitchen sink, turning on the warm water and testing it for you first. “I’ll get a bandaid.”

He rushed to the bathroom as you let the water run over your finger, watching the crimson seep out from the cut. Your lower back tingled where he had touched you.

Rafe returned, grabbing your hand gently and examining it before wrapping the bandaid around your finger.

The close contact with him made your heart thump harder in your chest and your cheeks flushed when he looked into your eyes with a concerned look.

“Is that better?” His voice was quiet and tender, and you felt your heart melt a bit as he held your gaze.

“Yeah,” you responded breathlessly, leaning in just a little bit more.

Several moments passed where the two of your stared at each other in silence. Rafe’s pupils flicked down to your lips before finding your eyes again and a chill passed through you.

The air seemed to crackle with tension around you. Your heart was thundering in your chest.

Was this the right time to make a move? Hasn’t he been giving you signs all night?

Everything you had seen so far was undeniable.

He wanted you, and you were beginning to think that he wanted you to know that.

The sound of a door closing upstairs made both of you jump, and Rafe took a step back from you, clearing his throat as he turned away before twisting the knob on the stovetop back on and staring down at the pan.

“Rafe?” Rebecca’s voice called out as she descended the stairs.

You grabbed your cocktail, taking a large gulp to try to calm the anxiety that was quickly spreading through your body.

“Yeah Becca, I’m in the kitchen. Making dinner with Y/N.” He responded, his head swiveling to the kitchen door when she entered.

“What time is it?” She asked, her voice shaking a bit before her eyes fell to you, examining your outfit.

You picked up your phone to check the time, “it’s 6:52.”

At that, you noticed her tense, and when she pathetically apologized for sleeping in so late, again, you had to bite back a giggle, keeping your face as neutral as possible.

It seemed Rebecca Cameron was slacking even more than you thought.

No wonder Rafe had been so obviously struggling to hold himself back.

In comparison to his mess of a wife, you must have seemed heaven sent.

Rebecca and Rafe exchanged an unreadable look for several seconds, but Rafe was the first one to interrupt the silence.

“Y/N, could you set the table? We’ll finish up dinner in here.” He didn’t break eye contact with his wife and you mumbled out an “okay, Mr. Cameron,” before grabbing a stack of plates, silverware, and napkins, and carrying them out of the kitchen.

As you set the dining room table, making places for four people in case Charlie showed up (though you doubted that would happen), you could just barely hear Rafe and Rebecca’s muffled voices from the kitchen. You strained to listen in to them and your eyes widened when you heard your name.

“I’m just saying, sometimes it seems like Y/N’s here more than Charlie is recently.”

There was a long pause.

“What are you saying, Becca?”

Another silence. You crept closer to the door to listen in.

“I mean, don’t you think it’s just a little strange that she’s not off hanging out with other college boys with Charlie more often?”

“We’ve always let her come over to use the pool if she wanted, the Y/L/N’s don’t have one,” Rafe replied with unfamiliar gruffness.

“She’s been walking around all summer in little- little fucking bikinis and short shorts, Rafe! I don’t think it’s appropriate.”

Rafe scoffed before chucking humorously, “you slept in until almost 7 o’ clock today, Becca, I don’t think you’re really in the right state of mind to be making wild accusations like that.”

They were arguing about you!

Your pulse was racing with excitement. Was this the first time this had happened? Even Mrs. Cameron, who was an idiot, could see your flirtations with her husband.

You clearly made her insecure, and that thought alone made you feel incredibly gratified.

Their voices had quieted down so you sat at the dinner table waiting, and there was about a minute of hushed whispers, before Rafe finally stepped out of the kitchen.

Your heart fell when you saw what was clasped in his hands however.

“Hey kid,” Rafe nervously shifted on his feet, looking down at you before offering you the leftovers container with a generous serving of pasta inside. “Becca’s um- not feeling great again, you know how her illness can be. I think it’d be best if you went home now.”

You frowned, incredibly disappointed that Rebecca was robbing you of enjoying a meal with Rafe. You and him had worked hard on it together.

You had literally bled for it!

Not wanting to upset Rafe, although sure that his wife forcing you to leave had pissed him off, you reluctantly grabbed the container before standing up to leave.

You looked up at him, silently willing him to make a move, to tell you what he was really feeling, but his stoney face revealed nothing.

Gathering your backpack and purse, you said goodbye sadly before opening the front door and walking to your car.

You slapped the wheel in frustration, wiping away the angry tears falling past your lashes before pulling out of their driveway.

Rafe stood inside the house, watching you through the window as you drove off.

He sniffed, jaw ticking as he stalked back into the kitchen to find his wife.

Becca was still in the kitchen, leaning up against the counter looking frustrated, but she jumped a bit at his appearance.

“I sent Y/N home.” She could tell by his voice that his anger was simmering just beneath the surface and his words sent a pang of anxiety through her chest.

He walked past her to the empty counter space, pulling the bag of coke out of his pocket, arranging the white powder into a long line and leaning over to snort it.

Rafe stood up again, his twitchy knuckle rubbing under his nose to brush away any extra residue as he turned to her.

“Don’t fuckin say shit,” he snapped after her lips parted and she looked at him with a mix of fear and judgement.

The taller man approached her and with the counter behind her back and nowhere else to go, she shrunk in on herself as he harshly glared down at her. She knew that he’d only be more pissed off now.

“I wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t make me so goddamn miserable all the time.”

His hand shot out, gripping her small wrist tight and she cried out in pain as he looked down his nose at her in disgust.

Rafe never laid a hand on Rebecca in front of other people, which is why she had felt confident enough to talk back to him when she knew someone else was at home, when she assumed that she would be having dinner with her husband and another person.

But now she was so very alone.

He twisted her wrist painfully and she whimpered, tears quickly coming to her eyes. But her husband had much less sympathy for her tears than he did for yours.

“I’ve been getting really tired of your shit, Becca.”

She struggled against him, trying to escape his hold, but that only made him more engaged.

His large body caged her in, easily allowing him to wrap both of his hands around her throat.

Rebecca’s fearful eyes widened, and she managed to choke out his name before her cut off her wind pipe.

Rafe’s veiny fingers tightened around his wife’s throat, ignoring her as she desperately scratched at his hands and arms.

Her face grew more and more red as she hopelessly gasped for air. Rafe slammed the back of her head against the cabinets before throwing her to the ground.

Rebecca took a panting breath before sobbing in pain and cowering away from the blond, but he was just getting started.

“I don’t want you to bring up Y/N anymore.” His voice was scarily even. “I think your obsession with her is getting unhealthy.”

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dark-fics-4-you · 5 months ago

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Crying in the Country Club | ch. II

Rafe Cameron x dark!Reader

Warnings: smut, masturbation, sexual fantasies, fingering, dirty talk, use of “kid” to refer to Reader, age gap relationship, verbal abuse, physical abuse, manipulation, lying, flirting with a married man, themes of infidelity

You were panting as the tips of your index and middle fingers swirled over your sensitive clit.

“That’s it, get yourself nice and wet for me, kid,” Rafe’s deep, nasally voice reached your ears and you felt yourself grow slicker.

Trailing lower between your legs, you traced your slit, which was glossy with arousal. Your fingertip slowly pushed into your begging cunt, and you spread your legs to give him a better view and to help your finger slide into your tight entrance.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’ve got a pretty pussy.” His words made you clench around your finger and he groaned at the sight.

Your thumb found your clit and you whined, squeezing your eyes shut when you began tracing circles over the tender bundle of nerves.

“Hey,” his stern tone made your eyelids snap open and you nervously glanced at him. “Eyes on me, baby.”

“Rafeee,” you whimpered, trying your best to hold eye contact with the older man. “Please.”

He stepped closer to the bed, placing himself between your open legs. His large hand grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand from between your legs before replacing it with his own.

When he pushed one of his thick fingers inside of you, you both gasped softly and you felt yourself tighten around him when he groaned and cursed.

“Fuck,” he licked his lips as he watched where his finger was disappearing inside you as he lazily pumped it in and out.

His free hand covered one of your tits, gently groping it, and you let out a squeal when he leaned closer, his plush lips wrapping around your exposed nipple and flicking his tongue against the hardened bud.

You couldn’t help but grind your hips in time with his movements and Mr. Cameron swallowed your moans when his lips covered yours.

“You like that how that feels?” He teased when he pulled away from the kiss.

All you could do was dumbly nod as you tried to keep your eyes open and on him the entire time.

“N-need more,” your cheeks were flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath.

“Yeah? What do you need sweetheart?” Rafe’s thumb circled around your clit, moving in time with his thrusting fingers to bring you closer to the edge.

You moaned loudly, your head too empty to put into words what you so desperately craved.

“You need daddy’s dick, isn’t that right?” His cockiness drove you crazy and you bit down on your lip to stop from crying out when he pushed a second finger inside of you, stretching you out.

“Mm hmm,” you whined, nodding your head against the bed and locking eyes with him as he towered above you. “Need you to fill me up.”

His eyes darkened at your words, lust making his pupils expand as he devoured you with his gaze.

Rafe leaned forward, lips draping over yours again and you groaned when his tongue pushed it’s way into your mouth.

You clenched hard around his fingers and were pushed over the edge, fireworks exploded behind your closed eyes as you came all over his hand, Rafe whispering praises as you rode the wave out.

Your eyes opened to your empty room and you caught your breath for several moments as you came down from your orgasm.

There was a knock at your door, quickly shaking you out of your fantasy.

“Um, one second, I haven’t gotten dressed yet,” you shouted through the closed door, sitting up in bed and grabbing your shorts and shirt.

You placed a hand on your forehead, your face was still warm to the touch.

After getting pulling the clothes on quickly, and washing your hands in the sink in your bathroom, you opened the door to see your dad smiling on the other side.

“Hey Y/N, just checking in on you, hon. You’ve been spending a lot of time at the Cameron’s recently,” he chuckled.

Before you could open your mouth to say something snappy, your dad defensively raised his hands, “I didn’t say that was a bad thing, honey. You’re allowed to hang out with the Cameron’s whenever…”

“But..?”

“But your mom and I miss you sometimes that’s all.” He joked and you cracked a smile.

“Aaand, Rafe told me that you’ve been really helping him around their house with chores… and I was wondering if you’d be so kind to help around our house too.”

You rolled your eyes at him but laughed and nodded. You walked downstairs and started straightening up the living room, lost in thought as you folded blankets and rearranged the throw pillows.

Honestly, you were just so excited to think that Rafe had brought that up to your father in such a positive way.

It just meant that your small actions were having the exact effect you had hoped for on Mr. Cameron. The idea that he was thinking about it after you had left his place was somewhat thrilling and you couldn’t help but wonder what else he thought or said about you when you weren’t around.

In some ways, Rafe already had the fantasy happy ending. He had a very, very well paying job as CEO of Cameron Development, a job he took over and then vastly expanded following his father’s passing; a wife of many years, who was pretty enough (although nowhere near as attractive as you, and her trend of needing psychiatric intervention certainly put a strain on the family); and a daughter who could have picked any direction in life due to her father’s CEO status (but you knew she would most likely just ride her father’s coattails and become a tiktok influencer or some other brainless job that rewarded rich mediocre nepo babies).

It seemed very obvious to you that Rafe Cameron wasn’t very happy with how his life had played out.

The large, well manicured Cameron residence provided few photographic clues of a life before marriage. The few pictures on the wall or lining displays showed Rafe and Rebecca together, some pictures featuring baby Charlie as well.

However, once, when you and Charlie had been exploring the attic, you found a dusty photo album full of old polaroids.

You opened the book, clutching your flashlight in one hand as you shined it over the pictures. Immediately, you were drawn to a picture taken of two men in a black truck, and you recognized them as your dad and Rafe, albeit about 30 years younger.

You flipped the page and your eyes nearly popped out of your head. You stared down at the younger, shirtless Rafe. He looked so different now and yet so similar.

His buzzcut was gone, replaced with short brown hair that suited him very well. His swim trunks hung low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of his toned abs. You felt your mouth start to water as you stared at his large, muscular arms, even bigger back then than they were now.

You wondered what your life could have been like if you had been alive and met him back then. You thought that surely his life would have turned out very different.

He wouldn’t feel weighed down by all of the stress that Rebecca and Charlie brought into his life because they would never have even been a part of it.

God, you were pissed that Rebecca could act so miserable when she had everything you ever wanted.

You could have been a good wife and given Rafe a family that he loved and cherished. Instead he was trapped in an obviously loveless marriage and his only child was a hopeless idiot.

Glancing back, you realized that Charlie was still preoccupied with something else and you sneakily slid your nail under the back of the polaroid, pulling it out of its frame in the album and carefully placing it in your pocket to take it home with you.

It’s not like anybody would miss it, you were sure the dust choked attic hadn’t been opened in years.

As you finished loading your clothes from the washer to the dryer you were shaken from your thoughts when you got a text message from Charlie.

“Hey Y/N, last minute emergency, Jess just got dumped and I’m heading to her place rn. No golfing today :(”

“Fuck!” You quietly cursed, frowning as you psychically willed her to text you “jk!”

There was no “jk.”

Saturdays were always the day the two of you played golf together at the country club near her house. It was also your best excuse to wear teeny tiny, slutty golf fits around Mr. Cameron.

You had caught him staring so many times that you could tell which skirts he liked the most on you at the point.

Huffing in frustration, you stomped up the stairs to your room and flopped onto your bed.

Who gives a damn that Jess got dumped?? Jess would probably find a new boyfriend within 1 week, 2 weeks top.

Golfing was probably the number one thing that you had looked forward to all week and now she had spoiled it.

Unless…

Maybe this could be a good chance to get more one on one time with Mr. Cameron!

You sat up in bed, mind already speeding towards a game plan before you walked to your closet.

Knocking on the front door of the Cameron house, you prayed that Rebecca wouldn’t be the one to open the door.

You smoothed out your short pink skirt and tucked a stray hair behind your ear. Quickly, you grabbed your boobs a bit, pushing them up in your sports bra to make them look perkier before straightening up when the door swung open.

“Y/N,” Rafe grinned down at you, his eyes flicking up and down your body, and your cheeks heated up just a bit. “Looking for Charlie?”

“Yeah, we always go golfing on Saturdays,” you reminded him, pointing to the matching pink golf bag you had beside you.

He leaned against the door frame and nodded in remembrance, “hmm, well she left about 30 minutes ago, said she had to take care of her friend and took a whole pint of ice cream with her.”

You laughed at that but then sighed, putting on your best look of disappointment, “aw shit, she didn’t say anything. I was really looking forward to playing today.”

You turned to grab your bag before pausing and facing him again.

“Wait, Mr. Cameron… is there any chance that you’d be free to join me?” You sweetly batted your mascaraed eyelids at him and gave him an innocent smile.

“Well…” the older man thought it over for a moment, glancing inside his house as he deliberated. “I guess I’m not doing anything right now, I’ve got time for a game.”

You beamed up at him, so excited that your plan had worked you nearly jumped into his arms to hug him, but you restrained yourself.

“Here, come in while I get ready, you can grab a drink from the kitchen if you want.” His arm came to your back just below where your cropped sports top ended for a second as he ushered you inside and your skin tingled where he had just touched you.

You poured yourself a glass of lemonade and drank it pretty quickly as you waited for Rafe to change into his golfing clothes.

He emerged in shorts and a tight fighting polo that suited him very well.

“Can I drive the golf cart?” You asked eagerly, smiling even wider when he nodded and fished the keys out of his pocket before tossing them to you.

After a short ride to the greens, you stepped onto the course, already wiping some sweat off of your forehead.

Rafe went to the back if the cart, grabbing both golf bags and easily carrying them over to the teeing area where you were already standing.

“Thanks, Mr. Cameron!”

You grabbed a club and a tee, very obviously bending down to place the tee and hoping that Rafe would get a nice view of your ass and the pink panties that matched the rest of your outfit, knowing full well that you could play it off as just being a dumb, oblivious girl.

You stood up straight, glancing back to catch Rafe quickly look away. Maybe it was just the heat, but you swore he was blushing.

Standing with your feet apart and lined up with your shoulders, you pulled the club back and purposefully didn’t follow through, hitting the ball with way too much stiffness.

The ball went flying through the air, a little off course for where it was supposed to be going and nowhere near as far as you knew you could send it.

“Oh my gosh!” You squealed, faking excitement. “That was really good, right?”

Even though you played with Charlie every week, you had only played golf with Rafe a handful of times over several years. You were banking on the fact that Charlie never told her dad anything.

Because otherwise, he would know that you regularly smoked his daughter in golf, and you knew damn well how to properly hit a golf ball.

Luckily, your prediction was dead on.

Rafe smiled at you, genuinely clapping at what he thought was your best attempt. “Very good, Y/N! Could I give you some pointers?”

Your heart skipped a beat at that, and you nodded sweetly at him, “sure!”

When the older man came up behind you and slid his hands over your arms to adjust your grip on the club, you shifted as if you were changing your stance, bringing your ass closer to his hips.

The smell of his cologne clouded your senses, making you feel dizzy with arousal, and you found it hard to pay attention to the words coming from his mouth.

“You can’t be too tight and stiff, or else the shot won’t go where you want it to.” He leaned forward as he led you through the motions of swinging the club and you didn’t miss how he paused for just a second when he realized your ass was practically pressed to him.

Rafe guided your through the shot once before quickly stepping back and away from you.

“Now you try,” he encouraged you.

This time, you only held yourself back a little bit, wanting to impress him without making him suspicious of your sudden improvement.

You put all of your strength into it, following through with your swing and launching the ball much closer to the putting green.

“Oh my god, Y/N, that was great! You’re a really fast learner.”

Rafe’s impressed praise could’ve made you melt right in front of him.

Not to mention how intoxicating it felt to have him so close to you when he was guiding you through the shot. You swore you had felt his erection brush against your ass. This was the first time you had been so blatant about it too, and Rafe hadn’t even said anything about it.

The next holes passed much too quickly. You made sure to make all sorts of glaring mistakes, all too inwardly eager for the next time he’d step in and correct your movements.

And he fell for it every time, by the time you were at the 8th hole, it had been several hours of pleasant conversation and a decent game of golf.

As good as you were, you weren’t sure if you could have beat Mr. Cameron even on your best day, but letting him think that you were a beginner made for a much more personally satisfying game.

The two of you climbed into the golf cart and Rafe looked at his watch for the first time in a while. “Shit, it’s getting a little late, kid. Would you be cool calling it here?”

You were a little disappointed to cut the game short, but it was late, and after several hours alone with Mr. Cameron, you were feeling pretty satisfied with the day.

The wind cooled you down despite the oppressive heat, and you were happy to be the passenger princess to Rafe on the golf cart. Even better was watching him drive one handed as his other arm was stretched out across the chair and near your back.

When you finally pulled up to the Cameron house, you were reluctant to leave, but the overwhelming feeling of desire bubbling up between your legs needed to be addressed, and it would probably be best to take care of at home.

You hugged Mr. Cameron tight, letting your head rest at his chest for a few moments and relishing the feel of his strong arms wrapped around you, before you finally stepped away and waved goodbye to him.

Rafe watched as you drove down the driveway and he waved back at you before turning to enter his house.

“Becca? I’m back,” he announced before sniffing the air. The older man checked his watch again. It was 6:30PM.

Where was she?

Rafe walked to the kitchen, which was notably empty.

He figured Charlie was still gone, but Becca always had dinner ready by now.

He frowned, jaw ticking as he checked the downstairs rooms, and still didn’t find her.

“Rebecca?” Rafe inquiry softly as he trekked up the stairs to their shared bedroom.

He opened the door to find exactly what he was fearing he would.

His wife was still in her pajamas, half awake in bed and staring at the tv screen sitting on their dresser.

“Becca,” he grimaced at the sight of her and she flinched when she noticed him. “Have you been in bed all day again?”

She looked away, nervous guilt written all over her face before nodding and Rafe sighed heavily as he walked to the side of the bed where she was laying.

“You know I expect you to at the very least make dinner every night, Becca.” His hand found her chin, gently tracing her face and she let out a small sob.

“I- I know Rafe, I’m sorry. I- I just couldn’t get out of bed.”

He scoffed at that, rolling his eyes at his wife, “why? It’s not like you even have a job tiring you out.”

“I know Rafe, and you- you know that I appreciate how much you work. But I’ve felt so tired the last few days, I- I almost passed out making dinner last night.” Tears had begun falling down her cheeks as she pleaded with him.

Rafe shook his head, his nose twitching as he scowled down at her, “you think I give a damn? I mean, you only have like one real fucking duty in this house.”

Rebecca flinched and let out a soft cry when Rafe’s hand wrapped around her forearm, squeezing tight enough to leave a bruise as he forcefully pulled her out of bed and pushed her towards the door.

“The least you can do is make sure there’s a goddamn hot meal waiting for me when I get home each night.” Rafe scolded, dragging her along with him as he stomped to the kitchen.

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