The room was stuffed with kooks; the night had dragged on and on, flowy dresses, fancy suits, and shoes clicked and clacked across the midsummer's dance floor. You and Rafe had spent the night dancing and drinking; it was nice, the breeze blowing against your hot, sun-kissed skin, Rafe’s hands resting on your curves as you swayed to the music.

You had been teasing Rafe all night with the way you dance, your eyes always staring at his lips, the way your hands lingered on his spine after dancing, the smile that always graced your lips.

Rafe was sitting at a table, drinking champagne that his parents provided—they were hosting midsummer this year. Rafe was watching you dance, just having pure fun and letting loose; you rarely did that around other people, and Rafe couldn’t help but smile.

You swayed to the music, making Rafe immediately get up, his gaze dark as he stalked over to you.

“Come any closer and I’ll kiss you.” You rasped—your tone teasing as you smirked.

“Kiss me again and I’ll fuck you right here, right now.” Rafe whispered as he grabbed your hip and yanked your body against his, your head falling back into his shoulder as his lips attached to your neck.