Page 61 of A Follow-Through in Faking
“Now, let’s get this over with,” she says, nodding once in the direction she wants me to go. I follow behind her without hesitation.
The photoshoot is awkward at first, to say the least. They keep putting us in strange positions, as if Catalina and I were nothing more than acquaintances, and I’m getting more irritated with every picture they take where I’m not looking at her, touching her, or being close to her.
I’m about to open my mouth when Catalina beats me to it.
“What is the point of this photoshoot?” she asks, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest. The photographer looks as confused as I feel.
“Well, you know, you’re the first couple to play doubles in a tournament like this in a long time. It’s for publicity,” he explains, holding his camera to the side.
“Exactly. We’re a couple. This isn’t how couples look. I’m not saying to make Santiago touch my ass or anything inappropriate like that, but there should be some touching, no? Shouldn’t we at least look at each other?” she says, waving a hand in my direction. I can’t suppress my smile at her irritation that we’re not touching each other.
“Umm, yes, okay. Maybe you can do what feels natural for you, and I’ll make suggestions and adjustments,” he says, and Cata spins around, her dress flying with the motion.
They put us on this uncomfortable, tiny bench, and she moves to straddle it, making me turn to face her instinctively. Her hand flies up to my hair, fixing a single strand of it. The photographer starts photographing, and I’m about to frown at him and ask to leave us alone during this sweet moment when Catalina places her hand on my neck. My attention glues itself to her lips before trailing up to her eyes. She isn’t smiling at me, but fuck, I’m grinning at her, enjoying the way she’s touching me so casually, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.
The rest of the photoshoot is pure heaven. Catalina and I don’t stop touching. Her mouth hovers over mine for many of the photos, always shy of a kiss. And when she moves her head tothe side, I follow her. When she moves it back, I lean forward, always keeping my lips near hers like metal to a magnet. It’s a delicate dance, and she eventually smiles when I let out a quiet, complaining grunt after she teased me with another almost-kiss.
By the time the photographer is done with us, my entire body has stiffened. My cock is aching, pressing against the uncomfortable fabric, and Catalina hasn’t stopped touching me. Her hand lingers on my left thigh as she talks to a member of the team that put this whole set together, and I barely contain myself from storming out of here to prevent anyone from seeing my awkward situation.
But I enjoy her touch far too much to leave.
“What’s wrong with you?” Cata eventually asks when the person leaves. I pick up the hand that’s resting on my thigh, placing it back on my neck. Her gaze catches fire as I run her hand down my chest and rest it on my abs.
“I crave you, Catalina.”
She runs her nails over my abs before bringing her hand back up to my throat, her thumb caressing the side of it right above my pulse point there, the way I always do with her. My breath hitches from both the admission and the way she’s touching me.
She studies me, unsure about my words for several seconds before she says something that has me fighting a whimper.
“And you’ve almost earned me, Santiago. Keep being a good boy, and I’ll let you have me.”
I nearly come in my fucking pants without her even touching me.
She cups my chin for a brief moment as she stands, but she releases me far too soon before walking away, leaving me to stare after her.
Chapter 26
Catalina
Sage,Charlie,Matteo,Santi,Manuela, and I are having dinner together. The tournament officially started yesterday, and my back has been feeling better, even if it’s still a bit stiff. Santi’s and my first match is tomorrow, so we’re enjoying one last quiet evening before we’re going to rip each other’s heads off during the match.
As soon as I think the words, I know I’m wrong.
He’s not going to fight with me about silly things anymore. He wants me. He wants me so badly, he’s willing to do just about anything to get me. Part of me wants to tell him to get on his knees and beg because I know he would look so pretty doing exactly that.
And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tired of fighting this attraction between us, too.
I’ve kissed him twice now.
Both times were too short, leaving me needing more, but I know as soon as we do more than kiss, as soon as we make each other come, there will be no turning back. And I’m not entirely sure I’d want to. One taste of Santi wasn’t nearly enough, and that was just a kiss. If all it takes to unravel me are his lips on mine, I’m scared to find out what he’ll do to me with the rest of his magnificent body.
“I’m bored,” Matteo says, one of his arms casually draped around Manuela, who is grinning up at his exasperated expression.
“We finished eating twenty seconds ago. Can’t you at least wait until the food has left Charlie’s mouth before complaining?” Santi interrupts, making my coach and trainer cover their mouth to not spit out their food.
“Charlie, I love you, you know that, but if you don’t hurry the fuck up, I might die of boredom.”
“You are so dramatic,” I tell the Italian, rolling my eyes at him.
