And sure, the way he ate his chicken was a little sloppy. But it was also kind of hot, the way he tore at the flesh with that ravenous look in his eye... like a hungry puppy.“Aw, shit,” he said, looking down at the grease on his shirt. “Look at me, I’m a mess.”“You’re okay,” she said, downing another glass of Merlot. Her eyes lingering on the dents of his nipples.He patted himself dry, leaning forward, when the chain came loose from his neck, a dog tag clinking against his shirt buttons.“Oh,” she. .. including 'the babysitter'....'Honey, I couldn't get our regular sitter tonight, I got the Bradley boy down the street over a block... he is 18 and seems very responsible and has babysat before, will you take him home later tonight?' Joy hollered down to me while I waited for her to finish dressing. Just then the doorbell rang... it was Jason, the babysitter. Our boys were 10 and 12, we needed a babysitter, too young to leave them home by themselves.'Yes dear... Jason is here...' I. More

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