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nadvs · 24 days

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watch and learn (part five)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

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The moon is bright and the air is brisk as you and Rafe sneak out of the lakehouse and rush towards the dock, still only in your bikini.

The stone steps leading from the porch to the backyard are slackened and a bit slippery, so you instinctually grab his hand to keep yourself steady.

He tenses immediately, his hand closing as your fingers pinch around his. He wriggles out of your grip.

“Rafe, I’m just trying not to fall,” you say, irritated.

“Watch where you’re going then,” he tells you. You scoff. Asshole.

This is just like the other night, when he warned you not to do any couple shit. As if you’d ever consider a relationship with someone so emotionally unavailable.

“You need to chill,” you tell him. “Holding hands for a few seconds doesn’t make us a couple.”

It’s too much for him, being touched by you in an affectionate, non-sexual way. You teased him the other day for cuddling you and he hated that you were sort of right about him liking it.

Rafe sighs and decides to just give in, offering his hand to you. You cup his cool palm and he doesn’t squeeze your fingers back. It’s fine. You only need the stability.

You reach the long, planked dock and let go of his hand immediately, following him towards the boat bobbing in the water.

“How’d you even get the key?” you ask, trying to push away the tension.

“Stole it,” he says.

“Wait, really?”

“No, not really,” Rafe teases, looking back at you.

You roll your eyes and smile. At least when you argue, it doesn’t last for very long. Besides, you’re both here for one reason and there’s no need to complicate things with any sort of petty conflict.

The cruiser boat’s shimmering black planes are sharp and sleek and the only covering is a glossy roof on angled pillars. You thought it’d be more private.

You stand behind Rafe as he begins to unravel the rope tying the boat to the dock.

“What if someone sees us?” you ask.

“Let them,” he grumbles.

“Rafe,” you warn.

“I’ll drive it out far,” he says, motioning towards the boat. “Go.”

You step onto the swaying boat and settle onto one of the two cushioned booths beneath the roof, watching him.

Even in the moonlight, you can see the planes of his biceps bulging beneath his t-shirt sleeves as he works on the rope. He seems to know exactly what he’s doing.

Perks of being rich, you figure. He’s probably lived such a privileged, comfortable life.

When Rafe steps onto the boat, he flips a few switches and turns the key into the ignition. Thankfully, the motor offers only a quiet hum, not alerting anyone in the house upstairs.

He slowly shifts the throttle forward with one hand, holding the steering wheel with the other. He’s so confident, so in control.

You were already turned on from the way he propositioned you upstairs earlier tonight, but watching him is making lust coarse through you even harder.

He may be a jerk most of the time, but he’s hot enough that you can ignore it.

“Do this with other girls,” you tell him. “Trust me.”

“What?” He glances back at you.

“Apparently, a guy driving a boat is hot,” you say. You almost forgot this whole arrangement was supposed to be instructional.

Rafe looks forward again, his lips quirked in a coy smile.

He slows the boat down in the middle of the quiet lake and kills the engine. The water ripples beneath you from the motion of the boat cutting through it.

He loves that you don’t wait for him to come to you. You wedge yourself between the wheel and him, pressing your body up against his, pulling him down to kiss you.

His hands find your waist, and you reach back to push them down to your ass.

“We skipping the foreplay you’re always annoying me about?” he mumbles against your lips, fingers digging into your skin.

“I hate to give you any credit,” you say, “but you already kind of did it. When we were talking upstairs and you said...”

“You can do it,” Rafe teases.

“That you could make me cum in a minute,” you finally say, body flushing with heat. “Foreplay can start hours before we even touch.”

“Damn, so… you been turned on since then?” he teases. It’s so gratifying that the whole time you were another guy, you were thinking about what Rafe would do to you.

“Shut up,” you laugh, pulling him in again, your hands cupping the back of his neck to kiss him.

Your open mouths are hot, tongues tangling together as Rafe grips your ass harder and grinds against you. His body curves into yours as he kisses you deeper, his touches growing rougher.

He pulls his shirt off and his bare chest against your half-naked body is firm and warm. His hand slides up the curve of your spine and finds the knot holding your bikini top together. He pulls the string, brushing down the straps and letting the bikini fall.

Rafe ducks to put one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking and flicking with his tongue, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

You throb with need as he licks you, taking in the sensation of the cold air pressing against your skin, his warm mouth on you, the boat gently rocking in the middle of the dark lake.

He puts his hand on your other breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple and your fingers find their way into Rafe’s soft hair, gently pulling at the roots, enjoying the grunt of pleasure you hear from him.

He eagerly pulls at the hem of your bottoms, mouth losing contact with you as he peels them down your thighs, crouching to get them to your ankles so you can step out of them.

“Damn, baby,” Rafe says huskily, taking the sight in. “Your pussy is so fucking pretty.” Your stomach numbs at his words. He’s been craving another taste of you for so long. Too long.

With his knees on the cold floor, he leans forward and flattens his tongue against your lips, earning a tremble from you. Your knees weaken as he uses his tongue to spread your lips apart, dipping between your folds with urgency.

You spread your legs and hike one up, resting your foot on the cushioned seat you were just sitting on.

“Good girl,” he says. “Spreading yourself open for me.”

You look down, moaning as he laps at you, taking in the way his eyes look in the moonlight, the way his hair is bunched between your fingers.

“Shit, that’s so good,” you purr. “You’re so fucking good at that.”

“I said less than a minute. Start counting,” Rafe says smugly. You giggle, amused and aroused and elated. The numbers sound weak as you start to mumble through them.

He starts to suck harder, slurping and enjoying your taste. Your voice immediately starts to waver and he pulls back.

“Don’t stop counting,” he orders.

“Four… five… six,” you continue breathily. Rafe closes his eyes as he savors you, already addicted to how you taste and how soft you are.

After working your clit, he shifts to shove his tongue inside of you. The sound of you trying to focus on counting while you moan from the pleasure he’s giving you is cosmic, out of this damn world.

Rafe continues to fuck you with his tongue, saliva starting to run down his chin, his nose wet from you. He moves back up to your clit, tongue flicking quickly.

“Thirty-four… oh, fuck…” you say.

“Oh, fuck? Is that a new number?” he mocks, making you smile and bite your lip as you tighten with bliss. You feel his big hand stroke up and down your middle, trapping your clit between his fingers and squeezing.

“Rafe,” you moan. “That’s so… fuck, that feels amazing.”

He smirks and locks his lips around your clit as he shifts to push two fingers into you. You clench around him and he can’t wait to be inside you.

He curls his fingers in and out of you while he sucks your clit, making you start to shake.

“Forty-one… oh, shit… okay, I’m…” you whisper, a wave of satisfaction prickling at your skin. He thrusts his fingers with more force, sucks harder, looking up at you as your mouth goes slack and your eyes squeeze shut.

Making a girl cum was always an ego thing to him. But he realizes that he loves making you orgasm simply because it means you feel good.

You unravel with a rippling rush through your body, fluttering around his fingers, bucking up against his face.

When you slowly come down from the climax, you pull your hips away from him.

“What number did you get to? Forty-one?” he teases. “What’d I tell you? Less than a minute.”

“So cocky,” you say, smiling and blissed out.

“Get on your back,” he orders, taking the condom out of his shorts before stripping the rest of his clothes off.

You settle on the hard boat floor, watching Rafe roll the condom on. You would’ve offered to put it on him, but he’s so rushed to dive into you.

You spread your legs and Rafe settles between them, pushing in with a quick thrust that makes you gasp.

He leans over to kiss you, swallowed by your slick warmth, letting you taste yourself on his lips. You tilt your pelvis up so he can get as deep inside of you as possible.

He pulls back and drives into you even harder, making you jolt from the force.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he orders you. You squeeze his taut torso with your legs, maintaining eye contact like he taught you. He’s gazing down at you, the starry sky shimmering behind him as he plunges in and out of you.

You’re so tight, so wet, so fucking perfect, that he doesn’t even want to cum, he just wants to feel the way you squeeze him.

His pace is fast, his eyes trailing over your face and committing the way you look when he’s fucking you to memory in case this is the last time.

The thought of losing this makes his skin burn.

Rafe’s palm presses at your neck, his fingers tightening around your jaw as he lowers himself and positions your head so that he can speak into your ear.

“You know he’s not gonna make you feel this good, right?” he mutters huskily. “He can’t eat your pussy like I can. He can’t fuck you like I can.”

This show of possession is just dirty talk, you tell yourself. But what if it isn’t?

Rafe props himself up again, gazing at you with his hand on your jaw as he thrusts in and out of you. How’s he supposed to be okay with someone taking you away from him?

You feel a cool drop of water on your arm. Then another on your cheek.

“Shit,” you gasp with a laugh. “I think it’s raining.”

He smiles while he looks down at you, enjoying the sound of your laugh.

“I don’t wanna stop,” he whispers. “Do you?”

You shake your head no and pull him closer so his warm cheek is pressed against yours. This is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. He’s filling you so nicely, both of you moaning and panting and laughing as the rain starts to come down harder.

You’re wrapped around him as he thrusts in and out of you hard and fast. The tension inside him finally snaps and he goes still before dissolving into pleasure, emptying himself into the condom.

He goes limp on top of you, panting against your neck. The rain is torrential and loud now, his back coated in water.

Rafe pulls out of you and you stand, laughing together as you rush to find your bathing suit top and bottom while he dresses himself, the wet clothes plastered to his skin.

You try to find shelter under the boat’s curved roof as Rafe starts the boat, watching him navigate and feeling your heart in your throat.

That didn’t feel like just fucking. The way he smiled at you was something else.

It’s late morning when you wake up, your friends still snoozing. You trudge downstairs and decide to enjoy the view of the lake that you didn’t get a chance to look at when you arrived yesterday.

You step out on the back porch, immediately thinking about how you snuck out with Rafe last night. And how you ran back inside, trying to be quiet, genuinely having fun with him. And everything in between.

You know it’s silly to overthink, but your mind replays what he said. You know he’s not gonna make you feel this good, right? He had to have been talking about Blake.

Was he jealous? The way he was smiling at you while he was inside you makes you think he does have a sweet side to him, that maybe he feels more than just lust for you.

You hear the door open behind you and turn to see Blake, adorably squinting from the sun.

“Early riser?” he gruffs, shutting the door behind him. You grin.

“You consider this early?” you say, checking your phone to see it’s almost 11:00. He chuckles.

Blake comes to stand beside you, leaning over the railing and looking at you with the same kind smile he was wearing last night in the hot tub.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks, his kind eyes softening with concern. “It wasn’t too cold?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, remembering how hot and flushed you were getting into bed after your time with Rafe last night. You wonder if he’ll tell Blake about your time together. And if Blake will care.

“No, I was fine,” you say.

“You sure you wanna leave today?” he asks, his tone sweet. The boys are going back to campus tomorrow, but you and your friends agreed to stay only until this afternoon.

“Yeah,” you say. “Don’t you bros have to bond or something?”

“Don’t tell them I said this, but I’ve bonded with them enough,” he jokes.

After everything you’ve learned about Blake over text and in person, you can tell he’s a good guy. You like the way he remembers things about you, the way he always looks at you like he missed you, the way he’s always polite to you.

Rafe walks into the empty kitchen and the first thing he sees is you and Blake through the window. You’re standing inches away from each other, leaning over the raised porch overlooking the lake.

His stomach turns when he sees you laugh at something Blake said.

“Dude, I’m fucking shattered,” one of his hungover buddies says, dragging his feet into the kitchen. Rafe thinks he is, too, and it’s not from drinking. He grabs some water and heads back upstairs to lie in bed.

You eventually go inside after Blake suggests making breakfast together. Your friends and a few frat guys are ambling around the main floor of the house as you make your way to the kitchen.

As you cook and talk, you find Blake takes every opportunity he can to innocently touch you in some way, unafraid to show you that he likes you. He’s affectionate, unlike Rafe, who stiffened the second you tried to hold his hand last night, who will only touch you right before or during sex.

After eating breakfast with Blake, your friends, and a few of the guys, you finally head upstairs to pack your things and head home.

You round the corner into the hallway and almost collide with another body. You look up to meet Rafe’s blue eyes, his expression sullen.

“Hey,” you say with a smile. “Wow, did you just wake up?”

“No,” he mutters. His lips thin as he steps to the side to walk past you, brushing you off.

You try not to let his moodiness get to you. It’s such a sharp contrast from how Blake treats you. You’re not expecting Rafe to be a sweetheart, but you thought at this point you sort of had a friendship.

You make your way to your room, reminding yourself of how he was the night you met. Rafe is a jerk, unless he’s working on convincing you to sleep with him.

Regardless, the sex is too good. You’ve actually been gaining confidence from hooking up with him. You tell yourself from now on to expect nothing but coldness from him.

Rafe tries to ignore the cloud hanging over his head after you leave the lakehouse. He hates that seeing you with Blake pissed him off so much. He hates that imagining Blake looking down at you the way Rafe did last night makes his blood boil.

A part of him wants to tell Blake you’re still hooking up to prove a point, but if Blake tells him that he did something with you, too, even a kiss, he might just swing at him.

Thankfully, Sam seems like he was too drunk to even remember Rafe asking for the key to the boat. He discreetly returns the key where Sam told him he could find it last night.

Rafe realizes he just needs to fuck another girl. He’s been messing around with you exclusively and that must be what’s been screwing with his mind. He scrolls through his phone and finds the number of a girl he met at a party during orientation week.

The next evening, you’re lying in bed watching a show on your laptop when you start to hear muffled moans. Your brows furrow as you try to make out what you’re hearing.

It’s a girl moaning. And it’s coming through the wall you and Rafe share.

Rafe’s on top of her in his bed, instructing her to be loud, not sure if it’s for his ego or just so you’ll hear. He did everything you taught him, touching her and talking to her how you said he should.

It’s all working and he can tell she’s close and it feels good, so why the fuck is he closing his eyes and imagining it’s you under him?

After she leaves, Rafe gives into the impulse to text you: my bad for the noise lol

You reply: all i can say is you’re welcome.

Rafe: ya you’re kind of a genius

You: i know :)

You try to focus on your tv show. Rafe said you’d keep your arrangement up until you’re both satisfied. He must be satisfied. Maybe the night on the boat was the last time.

You’ll miss it, but whatever. At least it’s ending before your mind has a chance to spiral any further into dangerous territory like it was this past weekend. That man has two settings designated for you: he’s either annoyed or horny. You’re convinced he feels nothing else.

The next day, it’s late afternoon when you get back to your dorm after your classes. As you get closer to your door, you can hear a man yelling. It’s loud. And vicious.

You sigh, wishing they didn’t cheap out on the insulation in this building.

You quickly realize it’s coming from Rafe’s room. Someone’s yelling and Rafe isn’t saying a single word back.

Rafe’s arms are crossed while his father shouts at him. He’s trying to hold it together, telling himself over and over again not to cry.

He got a little carried away with his credit card recently. He picked up the tab for food for his frat brothers quite a few times now. Splurged on beer. Had to pay to tank up his car for the weekend trip.

Apparently that makes him a disappointment who’s not taking school seriously. His father popped by for a surprise visit just to lay into him about his spending.

You quickly put your key in the lock and figure you should just put headphones on when you get in your room.

“Is that what I pay for, Rafe? For you to party? Do you even go to your classes?”

You swallow hard. It must be his dad. You don’t want to pry, but you’re surprised Rafe isn’t fighting back. The quick-tempered man you know always has a retort.

Maybe he hasn’t had as comfortable a life as you thought.

“If you can’t take it seriously-”

“I can,” Rafe finally says, his tone agitated but low. “I am taking it seriously.”

You swing open your door and step into your room, but when you hear his father say “what are you crying for?”, you feel your heart crack.

(part six)

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