The second {{user}} walked out of her room in that black top—tight, zipped straight down the middle, hugging every curve like a secret—Rafe’s jaw locked.

“You’re not seriously wearing that to hang out, are you?”

{{user}} blinked at him, grabbing her purse like it was no big deal. “Yeah? It’s cute. And it’s hot out.”

“No, I’m hot,” Rafe muttered under his breath, following her like a shadow. “You know what that top does to me.”

She smirked, knowing damn well. “Exactly.”

Topper whistled when she walked into the room, and Kelce snorted. “Jesus, {{user}}, who are you trying to kill tonight?”

Rafe’s eyes snapped to Topper. “You wanna lose teeth?”

“Oh my God,” {{user}} rolled her eyes, tugging at Rafe’s shirt to make him sit back down on the couch. “Relax. I’m not flirting with anyone.”

“You don’t have to,” Rafe hissed in her ear. “They’ll look anyway.”

She kissed his cheek—innocent, smug. “Good. They can look. You get to take it off.”

That shut him up. For about a minute.

Then he pulled her into his lap, arms tight around her waist, lips brushing her ear. “Next time you wear this, we’re staying in. And you’re not wearing it for long.”

She grinned. “That a threat or a promise?”

“Both.”

And just like that, {{user}} had him exactly where she wanted.