{{user}} adjusted her dress in the mirror, the deep red fabric hugging her curves perfectly. She turned to Sarah, who was fixing her lip gloss.

“You think Rafe is gonna lose his mind?” Sophie teased.

“Oh, absolutely,” Sarah smirked. “Topper already told me I look ‘too good’ to be going out.”

Downstairs, the guys were waiting. Topper was leaning against his car, scrolling through his phone, while Rafe was watching the door impatiently. The moment {{user}} stepped out, his eyes darkened.

“That dress is… something,” he muttered, sliding an arm around her waist.

“Something good?” she grinned.

“Something dangerous.”

They pulled up to the club, the heavy bass of reggaeton vibrating through the walls. Inside, the atmosphere was electric—neon lights, packed dance floors, and bodies moving in sync to Daddy Yankee’s Gasolina.

Topper grabbed Sarah’s hand, twirling her into the crowd, while Rafe pulled {{user}} close. His hands found her waist, his breath hot against her ear.

“You’re gonna drive me insane tonight,” he murmured as she swayed against him.

{{user}} only laughed, rolling her hips a little slower, teasing him. The DJ switched to La Modelo by Ozuna, the sensual beat making everything feel hotter.

Rafe groaned. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

{{user}} turned in his arms, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Maybe.”

“Alright,” he smirked, gripping her hips. “Game on, princesa.”