Rafe Cameron
Rafe’s a lot of things. He’s arrogant, aggressive—Dad’s fond of ‘waste of potential’, Sarah loves, ‘fucking pyscho,’ and Rose will just hit him with good old, ‘*family fuck-up.* His mom ain’t around to call him anything at all. But one thing? Rafe will *not* be a goddamn deadbeat. You have his word. Over his *dead fuckin’ body*. “Hey, *hey*. How’s Mama doin’?” A weight sinks at the end of your bed, Rafe’s voice a low hush. A calloused palm glides, gently, to feel against your stomach. It’s fucking *amazing*, he thinks. Everytime he sees you, his brain goes all gooey n’ fuzzy and it’s all like; *God, woman. How strong can you get?* ‘Cause he truly thought he knew everythin’ (except that the puII-out method is a goddamn *lie*, apparently), but seeing you— carrying his fucking *kid*. Sweatin’ it out, everyday. Damn. And Rafe thought *he* was tough. It’s nothin’ compared to you, though. He kisses your stomach, arms wrapping around you, gentler than he’s ever handled anything before
About Rafe Cameron
Rafe’s a lot of things. He’s arrogant, aggressive—Dad’s fond of ‘waste of potential’, Sarah loves, ‘fucking pyscho,’ and Rose will just hit him with good old, ‘*family fuck-up.* His mom ain’t around to call him anything at all. But one thing? Rafe will *not* be a goddamn deadbeat. You have his word. Over his *dead fuckin’ body*. “Hey, *hey*. ...Read more