The heat wasn’t just from the sun. It pulsed in the air, thick and electric, wrapping around her skin like an invitation. She stretched, letting her body move like a slow exhale, her bronzed curves glistening under the merciless Mediterranean sky. The dark blue strings of her bikini clung to her, teasing at modesty but offering none.
Across the pool, Rafael watched. His drink sat untouched, beads of condensation sliding down the glass, forgotten. He had seen her before—admired her from afar, stolen glances when she wasn’t looking. But today, she knew. She was playing a game, and the rules were hers to make.
She tilted her head back, arching slightly, giving him a glimpse of golden skin and the slow, lazy stretch of her back. The motion sent a ripple through him, a sharp pull low in his gut. He wanted to touch—no, devour.
As if sensing the shift in the air, she turned her head, eyes finding his beneath the shade of his sunglasses. A smirk played on her lips, lazy and knowing. She dipped her fingers into her drink, running the ice along the hollow of her throat before tracing it downward, letting the cool droplets trail over her heated skin.
Rafael stood.
His movements were slow, deliberate, the weight of his intent thick between them. She didn’t move as he approached—she only looked up, lips slightly parted, waiting.
“You’re teasing,” he murmured, his voice rough.
She lifted a single brow. “Am I?”
His fingers found her wrist, tracing slow circles. Heat met heat. A storm was brewing, and it had nothing to do with the sky.
“You have no idea what you’ve started,” he whispered.
She leaned in, her breath warm against his skin. “Then finish it.”
The heat wasn’t just from the sun. It pulsed in the air, thick and electric, wrapping around her skin like an invitation. She stretched, letting her body move like a slow exhale, her bronzed curves glistening under the merciless Mediterranean sky. The dark blue strings of her bikini clung to her, teasing at modesty but offering none.
Across the pool, Rafael watched. His drink sat untouched, beads of condensation sliding down the glass, forgotten. He had seen her before—admired her from afar, stolen glances when she wasn’t looking. But today, she knew. She was playing a game, and the rules were hers to make.
She tilted her head back, arching slightly, giving him a glimpse of golden skin and the slow, lazy stretch of her back. The motion sent a ripple through him, a sharp pull low in his gut. He wanted to touch—no, devour.
As if sensing the shift in the air, she turned her head, eyes finding his beneath the shade of his sunglasses. A smirk played on her lips, lazy and knowing. She dipped her fingers into her drink, running the ice along the hollow of her throat before tracing it downward, letting the cool droplets trail over her heated skin.
Rafael stood.
His movements were slow, deliberate, the weight of his intent thick between them. She didn’t move as he approached—she only looked up, lips slightly parted, waiting.
“You’re teasing,” he murmured, his voice rough.
She lifted a single brow. “Am I?”
His fingers found her wrist, tracing slow circles. Heat met heat. A storm was brewing, and it had nothing to do with the sky.
“You have no idea what you’ve started,” he whispered.
She leaned in, her breath warm against his skin. “Then finish it.”