Snacky

“rafe, stop! youre soaking me.” you groan, pulling your legs back.

he lets out an unfazed chuckle. a bottle of sunscreen dropped onto your stomach. “my shoulder’s fried from lifting yesterday. do my back.” rafe sits in another chair facing the other direction.

“bossy.” you mutter with a glare, but there was no heat in it—just pure annoyance.

you got up, putting the magazine away and sat on the other chair. rafe backs you, your view is full of his back muscles and the nape of his neck.

you squirt the cold lotion onto your palms, rubbing them together. didnt miss a glance at the scars he has on his back. but you dont say anything, dont need to.

you press your sticky with sunscreen hands against his shoulders. the second your palms hit his skin, you pause.

“oh my god,” you mutter, pressing your thumbs harder into his traps. “are you flexing right now? youre built like a brick wall.”

a smug smirk creeps onto his face. hearing that from his girl bestfriend, feeds his ego.

rafe tilts his head to the side, showing his sharp jawline in profile. wet curtain bangs parted messy from the pool, hang over at his brow. he cuts his eyes at you, cocky yet intense side stare. a wicked smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

god, he looked so fucking hot.

“what? you dont like it?” he leans back slightly into your touch. basking in the feeling of your hands on him.

you feel your face burning, breaking the intense eye contact with him. “youre so full of yourself.” you spat, trying to mask your breathless state.

your hands massages the lotion across his broad back. as you move down to his arms, you notice the prominent veins trailing down his forearms and over his knuckles.

“its so annoying,” your fingers traces the lines of his arms, feeling the steady strength from him. you continue tracing the blue vein running down his thick bicep. his frame dwarfing yours from this angle.

“you literally survive on cokes, beer, and whatever is in kelce’s fridge. yet you look like.. this.”

in his delusional brain, youre not making a joke about genetics. youre openly obsessing over him. you want him so bad.

“i eat salads sometimes,”

“yeah, right.” you squirt another cold lotion onto your palm. pressing them against his lower back, smearing the sunscreen. “like, you look times better than the guys ive been with.” you continued, not realizing the effect.

‘better than the guys ive been with.’

the phrase loops in his brain. a dark satisfaction hits his chest. every ounce of jealousy and resentment hes ever felt, whenever he saw you with another guy instantly gone.

rafe always knew those guys were worthless losers compared to him. but, hearing you admit it out loud? better than any drug hes ever taken.

“yeah?” he murmurs, voice dropping low. “times better, huh?” youll just pretend you never said that.

rubbed the freezing sunscreen into his broad back, last time. once you finished, you wipe your hands together. letting out a breath you didnt realize were holding.

“alright, youre good.” lightly tapping his shoulder to tell him to move.

but he doesnt move forward. instead, he turns around—sitting up and facing you now. rafe spreads his thighs slightly, leaning back on his hands and looking at you with that lazy smirk.

“front’s still burning,” his dark eyes focused on you. “dont half-ass it.”

swallowing your saliva feels suffocating. your cheek burned again, heart beat spiking. “are you kidding me?!” you scoff, but your tone was still soft. “d—do it yourself, ray.”

“my shoulder’s fucked, remember?” you both know hes lying. “squeeze the bottle.”

you let out an annoyed groan, but you grab the bottle anyway, too used to his bossy bullshit. youll have to reach his chest, without breaking your back.

so you shift forward. moving onto your knees, straddling his thick thighs. you hover on his lap.

“youre such a baby.” you pretend to be annoyed but a small smile escaped you. you squirt the lotion onto your hands and press them flat against his chest.

you drag your hands down his pecs, moving over the hard ridges of his abs. hyper aware that your knees are framing his hips.

the heat radiating off his body makes you feel dizzy. and because youre leaning forward, your chests are separated by mere inches. your hands are literally trembling, because youre aware of one thing.

rafe’s heavy gaze is locked onto your face. he doesnt even shift it a bit. he watches your micro expression, tracking the way your cheeks flush. they dropped lower, down to your soft cleavage in that tiny bikini he wants to tie off so much.

“stop looking at me like that..” you whisper, trying to focus on rubbing sunscreen off his body. it all felt too much. you two were practically naked alone in this private pool. the proximity alone intimidates you. he wont even stop looking at you!

“just enjoyin’ the view. cant a guy stare at his best friend?” he emphasized the last words.

he shifted his hips slightly, you feel something under your ass and clothed pussy. is that his dick?

no it cant be. why does he feel so big and.. thick? you bit your lip at the thought of your best friend inside you, his fat cock wouldve hit every inch of your walls. or that he’d tease you before pushing in—he would stretch you real nice.

get your head out of the gutter! that is your best friend. best friends dont fuck, right? plus, its not like youre into him anyway.

clearing your throat in awkwardness, you try to break the weird thoughts and sexual tension. you swallow hard, dragging your hands down over the defined ridges of his sixpack.

“done.” you spoke quickly. your hand still sticky with the left sunscreen.

planting your hands on his ribs to push yourself off his lap. but his massive hands shoots up faster, gripping both of your hips. thick fingers digging into your bare skin.

“not done.”

rafe lets go one of your hips, gripping your wrist instead. his fingers locking around your delicate bones. maintaining eye contact with you as he forcefully drags your hand down.

your palm slides over the searing hot skin of his lower stomach. and down to the deep cut of his veiny v-line.

“rafe, what are yo—”

“you missed a spot.” he rasps. pulling you an inch closer until your stomach brushes against his.

he doesnt just hold your hand. he pushes your fingers down, forcing them to slip just under the damp fabric of his waistband. rough edge of his boardshorts scrapes against your knuckles.

you froze, heart hammering so violent against your ribs. youre sure he can feel it.

“rub it in, baby.” he commands softly.

your hand is trembling, but his grip on your wrist leaves you no choice. guided by his force, your palm drags slowly along his pelvis.

you can feel the flex of his lower abs, the scorching heat of his skin.

and the undeniable physical evidence of how aroused he is by having you on his lap. pressing against the fabric just inches from your fingertips.

he wants you to slip further. his breath hitches, heavy thighs parting wider. hes entirely open on you crossing the line in this broad daylight.

“mhm,” a ragged groan vibrates in the back of his throat. he forces your hand to dip lower to the center of his waistband.

hes not letting go of your wrist. he purposely brings your hand straight to his print. your fingertips brushing against the hard bulge beneath the cloth.

you quickly rip your hand out of his grip. shoving hard against his chest, scrambling backward off his lap, so fast that you almost trip over the side of the lounger.

youre entirely breathless. your chest heaving. your face burning. your pussy throbs in secret.

“im d—done. put the rest on yourself.” you throw the sunscreen bottle at his chest.

rafe catches the bottle effortlessly out of mid air. he doesnt scramble. he doesnt even look embarrassed. this guy.

he slowly sits up, his stomach muscles flexing as he shifts. he looks at you, cowering and flustered. a perverted grin spreads across his face.

“thanks.” his voice still thick with arousal.

his gaze drop shamelessly from your flushed face, down to your tits in the bikini top, and your thighs in the bikini bottom.

“you do yours yet?” rafe taps the plastic bottle against his thigh. tilts his head with mockery. “sun’s pretty brutal out here.. i can get your front for you. y’know, just returning the favor.”

“i—i already put it on! im fine.” you snap instantly. crossing both arms tightly over your chest to block his ogle. your face somehow burns hotter.

he smirks, “right. your loss, sweetheart.”

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