Page 47 of Botched

I can’t say for sure that it had anything to do with the conversation that Theo had with Nathan after that promo in New Orleans,but my gut tells me it does. It’s not unheard of for guys at the top to get the opportunity to call shots.

I haven’t asked because it feels like one of those things I’m better off not knowing.

Austin has continued to hover around backstage. He’s asking me out for a drink every damn week, and every week I tell him no. I thought Theo was persistent. I’m beginning to wonder if Austin has a humiliation kink.

Professionally, I’m building a feud with Jules for the next pay-per-view. The story writes itself. I’m the best friend that turned on her, betrayed her and her mentor. I have no doubt that she’ll be the one to come out on top in the feud, especially since I don’t have a contract yet.

But a pay-per-view match ishuge, especially for a girl like me. It means that Nathan trusts me on a big stage, to have a match against the fastest rising star in the women’s division.

Shayna takes a step back, running her fingers through my hair to make sure the curls look TV ready. I have a pre-tape promo with Theo today. Something that has a little bit more production behind it than going out into the ring and cutting a promo.

Theo’s move on to a feud with Micah Duvall. Micah is someone that the fans are behind. He’s the guy that people want to see as the GRW World Champion and it’s easy to understand why. He can wrestle, he can talk, and the man isgorgeous.

“There, good?” Shayna asks, popping her strongly scented mint gum when she goes back to her table, placing her tools back in order.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I smile. My hair is in these beautiful soft curls. My makeup is perfect because Shayna is a fucking artist. “Amazing. You’re the best.”

I give her a little wave as I stand up, my heels clicking down the peeling linoleum hallway, scanning over the signs posted to the doors to try and find the room we’re doing our pretape in.

Once I find it, I push the door open. The production crew’s inside and so is Theo. I drink him in for a moment. He doesn’t look much different than usual, but he’s still delicious. A crimson-colored button-up, slacks that hug his muscular thighs and nice ass. Hair styled to perfection, those thick brown curls that I just want to run my fingers through again looking messy, but not unkempt.

He is my temptation and every day he makes standing my ground even more difficult.

He doesn’t hide the way his eyes rake over me. “You look like a goddess, as per usual, Roo,” he says.

The dim lighting in the room thankfully hides the heat that creeps into my cheeks. Theo sits in a velvet-backed chair, looking like royalty. The Dark Prince of GRW. The devil that I can’t stop making deals with.

He pats the arm of the chair and as if he has me trained, I walk over and perch myself on the arm, tugging down the bottom of my dress when it creeps too high on my thighs.

With the money I’m making from my GRW deal and the money I’m saving with Theo taking care of Dad’s medical bills at the moment, I was able to buy a dress and not have to borrow one from Jules or scrounge around at the thrift store. It’s a simple red velvet mini dress with thin straps. It hugs onto my body like it was made for me, highlighting my curves. I look good; IknowI look good.

When I perch next to him, Theo slips an arm around my hips. His hand comes to stop on my ass and he squeezes it. “This good, baby doll? Feels natural, y’know.”

I don’t snap at him like I would’ve before. It makes sense for him to be handsy with me, considering our on-screen relationship, and it’s a natural place for his hand to rest with the height of the arm of the chair and out positioning.

And I like how it makes me feel. It soothes that part of me that’s desperately craving more of his touch.

He moves his hand only to drape his title over his oppositeshoulder, then his hand is back on my ass. Once the producer gives the signal that the cameras are rolling, we melt into our roles.

Which are just becoming an extension of ourselves. Where does our on-screen relationship start and end?

“Micah,” Theo starts, drawing out the ‘a’ sound. “Hey. What’s up? You want me, right? Not a surprise. A lot of people do. No, no. We’re not going to do that. We’re cutting to the chase. You want what I have.” He nods his chin toward his championship.

“You think you deserve this, yeah? Think because you work really hard and people like you that you should represent this company. That’s not how it works. This isn’t a prize for being a good boy, which between you and me, we both know you’re not. This is for being the best, and frankly, Micah, you’re not up to my speed. This is how things are going to go. AtUprising, you’re going to get your title match. You’re going to lose. You’re going to be sad and whine and complain and probably leave the company like the dirt sheets have said you’re going to do for months now. I’m still going to be the GRW World Champion. I got the gold, I got the girl.” His hand pats my ass, pulling me into him a little bit tighter.

“See ya then, bud.”

“Cut!” The producer calls out and the blinking red light of the camera stops. He looks at Theo with a small nod of his head. “I think we’ve got it. Good job.”

“Great. We’ll head out in just a second.” Theo dismisses the crew, but doesn’t let go of me. His hand tightens on my ass a little bit, fingers pressing into the flesh.

Raising an eyebrow, I look down at him. It would be a damn lie if I said this wasn’t making me feel something. The same things that I’ve been in denial of feeling for Theo for weeks now. The want. The desire. I’m just not ready to break for him yet.

I’m scared. Terrified. I don’t want to put myself out there and get hurt. Especially not when that seems like the most likely outcome.

Clearing my throat, I shift on the arm of the chair. The wood is becoming uncomfortable, digging into my thighs. “You can let go now,” I say, keeping my voice low so the crew that’s still packing up their things won’t overhear.

“No, I don’t think I will,” Theo responds. There’s a hint of frustration in his voice as his hand drags slowly over my skin, always coming back to my ass.

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