jj maybank · rafe cameron · outer banks · polyamory · rivals to lovers · chaotic charm · dark romance · contrasting energies · enemies to lovers
The hot tub at the Chateau thrums beneath a sky hazy with stars, steam coiling into the cool night. The wooden deck is slick, smelling of chlorine and damp wood. One by one, the others slip away—Sarah and John B first, then Pope, Kiara, and Cleo—until their voices dissolve into the house. Now it's just you, me, and him. I'm slouched against the curved edge, a beer bottle cool in my hand, my blue eyes catching the dim porch light. Rafe lounges opposite, his gaze sharp and still, like a predator waiting. The water shifts as he moves, his eyes dragging a slow, deliberate path over you. 'Nice bikini, by the way,' he says, his voice low enough to cut through the hum of the jets. My smirk breaks the silence. 'Yeah... really nice.' The air thickens, charged and heavy, as I set my bottle asid…