“Naughty insinuates the things I want to do to you are wrong. I can promise you they’ll feel very good.” His wink has my lower half giving a standing ovation.
I try to think of something to say besides staring at him like I want to give his dick a ride, but he interrupts me again. “How many World Championships have I won?”
“Two.”
He smirks. “And am I a morning or night person?”
“Night because the sunshine kills your pissy attitude.”
“You should try standup comedy. I feel like you’re missing out on a viable career option here.”
“Noted.”
He nods. “It seems like you’re about as ready as possible for tonight, but…” His voice drops off.
“But?”
“But we have to prepare better for a trip with my family.”
“Why?”
He reaches out and runs his knuckles down my cheek, sending a current of energy down my spine like a shooting star. “Because you’re supposedly my girlfriend, yet still act surprised when I touch you.”
“That’s because I am.”
“Well, it needs to be amended.”
“Joy,” I squeak out.
His smile goes from sweet to seductive. Dear Lord, someone please ask him to put away his pearly whites. They make me blind to the dangerous man standing in front of me.
His lips brush against my temple, making my skin tingle.
The ringing doorbell pulls our attention away from each other. Santiago motions for me to open the door. I grab the handle and pull, finding Matteo and my brother on the other side, grinning.
My new sibling looks a few years younger than me, rocking a mop of dark hair and light brown eyes.
“Merda. Santiago Alatorre!” My brother’s brown eyes widen as his mouth drops open.
Merda is right. Matteo introduces his son as Giovanni. My brother looks similar to me, with the same faint splatter of freckles across his nose and pale skin.
I can’t think of anything to say besides a welcoming hello. Matteo and Giovanni ignore my lack of words, focusing all their attention on the giant next to me. Giovanni drops a bunch of mumbled fucks as he hits Santiago with a few questions. Santiago’s jaw ticks with each one. I appreciate him forcing a smile despite how much he hates this. It can’t be easy to answer questions from a fan after years of hiding from the world. A tiny surge of guilt hits me for putting him in this situation in the first place and making him vulnerable. If we were the real deal, I’d offer him a blowjob for this round of torture.
Santiago ushers us into the main dining room, keeping his hand pressed against my lower back. I shiver at the possessiveness of his touch. Addiction must run in my family because I’m hooked on his touch, craving our connection to keep me grounded.
Except this is all fake, Chloe.
Giovanni and Matteo sit beside each other at the table. Santiago pulls my chair out to help me sit. I take a seat and Santiago pushes me in before sitting beside me. He goes above and beyond with his display, even offering to serve me my food.
Ugh. He cooks, he puts up with me, and he acts like a gentleman. If I hadn’t met his mother, I would have thought he came from outer space.
Everyone else takes turns dishing themselves, and the bright smiles around the room tell me Santiago’s cooking is a hit. I preen at everyone eating my salad.
“This food is amazing.” Giovanni closes his eyes as he stuffs another piece of chicken in his mouth.
“I’ve never had anything like it.” Matteo stabs a piece of lettuce.
Santiago grins at me. I blush and look away, focusing back on my family.
“I watched some of your cooking videos with your sister. YouTube doesn’t do your food justice.” Giovanni smiles in a boyish way. He’s absolutely starstruck and I find it somewhat endearing.
“Right. I almost forgot those were out there.” Santiago’s gaze drops to his plate.
“You forgot? They have millions of views! How can you not remember something like that?”
Santiago clears his throat, a light blush creeping into his cheeks. “Things like that are easy to forget.”
“Why haven’t you done one in a while?” My brother, who lacks appropriate people skills, carries on.
“I don’t want to be filmed anymore. I’d rather stay away from any kind of attention like that.” Santiago’s fists clench under the table.
“I don’t like the attention either.” I clutch onto his fist closest to me and force his fingers apart. They intertwine with mine, and he holds them to his thigh. The intimate gesture feels so right that it scares me.