Chapter 15
RIO
“Smile, you two,” Antoine says, as Marco and Ben circle around us in the lagoon. “That’s it. That’s it.”
I follow Antoine’s stage direction without question. And with a better attitude than if I had been photographed alone.
There’s only so much encouragement about “making love to the camera” a rockstar can take.
But now, instead of a cold camera lens, I have a warm, living woman to tantalize.
And I’m even encouraged to put my hands on her curvaceous shoulders and cop a feel.
Of course, the eloquently spoken Antoine didn’t quite say it like that.
Yet I heard no objection, from Antoine anyway, when my hands edged close to Maddie’s erect nipples poking through the thin fabric of that swimsuit.
That surprised me.
That Maddie could get aroused so easily. I'd like to say my proximity had something to do with her very physical reaction.
Bet she imagined me teasing them erect with my tongue.
“Aren’t these enough photographs?” Maddie asks, breaking the spell.
“Almost,” Antoine says. “We need a few more. Rio, turn to a profile. Hold Maddie by her hips and lean in close. Like for a kiss.”
I obey. I lean in like a vampire about to bite her neck. Maddie yields to me like she's entranced.
Once again, my instinct was correct.
I love that prim, schoolmarm Maddie’s mesmerized by my touch. My hands slide down her waist.
Then they wander toward Maddie’s firm, round ass of their own volition.
The lagoon area is silent, save for the sound of the nearby waterfall and the soft clicking of Marco and Ben's cameras.
Man, Maddie feels good.
Especially when she does that little wiggling thing, shifting in the water against my lap.
For the millionth time, I wonder why the schoolmarm even agreed to this in the first place.
Then I hear Snorty yip from his lounge chair and remember. The dog. Right.
But I forget all about Snorty when Antoine commands Maddie to scoot near me.
She leans toward me, planting the lightest possible kiss on my lips.
As she moves, her soft hand accidentally brushes my hard dick.
Christ.
A million pinpoints of pleasure go straight to my cock.
“And that’s a wrap,” Antoine announces, oblivious to the explosion that just happened under the dark water.
“You guys were incredible,” Antoine says.
“The attendants will take you to the massage room for your appointment in five minutes. I'm going to have a word with the photographers.”
As Antoine's leather shoes squeak away on the wet floor, I wonder what will happen between me and Maddie when the concert's finished.
And the need for the fake relationship is over as well.
Knowing Antoine as I do, he probably has a press release already prepared explaining our breakup.
It’s only now that I realize I’ll miss having a bit of Maddie in my life.
If only to tease her, as I'm doing now.
I make a point of getting out of the lagoon first. I take my time climbing the hidden lagoon stairs, letting the water sluice off my back and down my strong legs.
And I do it slow—putting on a show so the sexy schoolmarm can see what she’s missing.
I’m still rock hard from her touch in the water. Damn, how is it that this buttoned-up teacher can get me woody like that with just a nervous hand brush?
And that expression on Maddie’s face is priceless. Her eyes wide, cheeks flaming hotter than the steam.
I wait for Maddie to rise from the lagoon.
Maybe it’s rude for me to watch so blatantly, but I want to see what my fake fiancée looks like beneath that baggy beige swimsuit.
Now that it's soaked, it reveals the exact rosy-pink color of her nipples.
“Turn your head,” she says, all coy like she’s some bashful virgin.
“And miss the show? Never,” I reply.
Maddie’s eyes flick to the stack of towels on the chair. Too far away to reach without exposing herself. She rises, holding her hands over her chest.
But her body beneath that translucent swimsuit is on full display.
Trim waist. Pert derriere. Firm inner thighs.
Maddie averts her eyes as she lunges for the towel, wrapping it tightly around her small but curvy frame.
Damn, grown-up Mads is a revelation. All soft edges and a fire I want to stoke.
The attendants appear and herd us toward the massage rooms. The air warms slightly, but my body is still buzzing.
The intimate massage room flickers with lighted candles. Two massage tables sit side by side. I watch as Maddie places Snorty, relaxing in his carrier, on a side table.
I whip off my towel and lie on the left bed, completely comfortable in my skin. An attendant discreetly folds a fluffy white towel over my lower torso.
“You’ll want to change out of that wet suit," the same attendant says to Maddie.
“Slip under the sheet of the massage bed next to your fiancé, remove the suit, and hand it to me."
“But he’s not my fiancé...” Maddie begins.
She catches herself a split second later, realizing she almost blew her cover to a spa attendant.
"She means she's still getting used to the word fiancé. It's all very fresh," I say.
I can’t help but grin as I watch her struggle under the crisp sheet, working the wet suit off.
I gaze at the outline of her firm hips wiggling as she peels the fabric off her firm, well-shaped booty.
After a brief knock, the door opens. Antoine enters with Marco and Ben behind him.
“Ready, team?” Antoine asks.
Without waiting for an answer, Marco and Ben position themselves for "intimate" shots.
The masseuses lay their strong hands on my shoulders. But Maddie's soft sighs next to me tighten me right back up.
Her sheet slips a fraction, revealing the curve of her breast.
“Enjoying yourself over there?” I say.
“You bet.” Her eyes flick to my body.
Ah, so the schoolmarm is losing her inhibitions.
The tension builds, our bodies inches apart. As the masseuse runs her hands over Maddie’s body, I imagine I’m the one touching her.
Then Maddie’s foot brushes mine under the sheets that separate us. Accidental? Maybe.
But the contact sends a jolt straight to my dick.
I shift closer, my hand "accidentally" grazing her thigh, fingers lingering just long enough to feel her tremble.
“Perfect—hold that intimacy,” Marco calls, zooming in for the money shot.
Already, I see the image in my head exactly as he’ll print it. Viral gold.
Maddie and me, lying side by side. Sheets draped just so. My hand near hers in a "tender" clasp. And her flushed face turned toward me like we're lost in each other.
Then Ben asks us to change positions—to bring our lips toward one another slowly, hovering just before a kiss.
Flashes pop, capturing our steam-kissed glow, our bodies glistening.
I can predict how the final image will look, and its caption: Reformed bad boy relaxes with his Cinderella fiancée.
Prince Michael and Antoine’s instincts on how to sell the narrative have been right all along.
The crew finally packs up, leaving us in dim silence.
Antoine pokes his head in.
“Stunning shots. Now dress for dinner. The restaurant's waiting, and my photographers will be there to chronicle the action. Remember to make your every word, gaze, and touch sizzle for the cameras.”
Maddie sits up, clutching the towel tight to her chest She shoots me a look that's more spark than storm.
I watch her take Snorty and return to the changing room, the sway of her hips igniting fresh interest.
Without her, the small massage room feels empty. Hollow. Like something lively and vibrant was sucked right out of it.
When the weekend ends, I’ll miss her. More than I should.