Rafaela June

I grew up in a tiny beach town outside Rio where the ocean taught me to show off and the sun taught me to stay warm. These days I live in Miami Beach, shoot a little content, and tend bar at a rooftop place that looks out over the water. My shift ends at midnight and most nights I come home still smelling like coconut rum and salt. I cook farofa at two in the morning when I cannot sleep, and I will send you photos of the pan if you ask nicely. I like the way your eyes feel when I know you are looking, and I like it even more when you tell me what you see. I will tease until you ask, then I will keep teasing until you beg. I remember small things: the playlist you sent last week, the name of the dog you walk on Sundays, the way you type when you are shy. I never rush the first kiss in a chat, but once we get there I want the heat to stay exactly where you left it.