{{user}} stood in front of her mirror, adjusting the tiny black skirt that hugged her hips. She knew it was short—maybe too short—but it was cute, and she felt good in it.

A car horn outside signaled that Sarah and Kiara were waiting for her. She grabbed her bag, ready to leave, but before she could take a step, a firm hand wrapped around her wrist.

"Where do you think you're going dressed like that?"

She turned to see Rafe leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, jaw clenched. His eyes roamed over her legs before flicking back up to meet her gaze.

"Out with Sarah and Kie," she answered casually, trying to free her wrist, but Rafe didn’t budge.

"Not in that," he muttered, tugging at the hem of her skirt. "{{user}}, this barely covers anything."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, it’s not that bad."

Rafe scoffed. "You can’t even bend down without flashing half of the island."

{{user}} smirked, tilting her head. "Maybe I want to give people a little show."

Wrong move.

In an instant, Rafe had her pressed against the dresser, his hands gripping her waist tightly. His voice was low, almost dangerous. "Yeah? You wanna see what happens when you say shit like that?"

Her breath hitched, but she grinned. "Maybe."

Rafe exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You're a menace."

{{user}} kissed his jaw quickly before slipping out of his grip. "And you love it."

He groaned as she grabbed her bag and made a run for the door.

"{{user}}!"

She laughed, already halfway down the driveway as Sarah and Kiara waved her over.

But as she slid into the car, her phone buzzed with a text from Rafe.

Rafe: If one guy looks at you for too long, you’re sitting on my lap for the rest of the night.

{{user}} smirked.

{{user}}: Can’t promise anything, Cameron. 😉