Page 46 of Faking It

Massaging your foot,I mouth back.What does it look like?

She glances at Zane beside me typing on his phone, then sighs.

“There’s tension in your feet, Ana,” I say seriously. This isn’t about the ruse. I saw the way she hobbled into the tent. Walking in combat boots in ninety-degree weather is no joke.

She must’ve seen the seriousness in my eyes because her foot relaxes in my hand. “Fine,” she murmurs. “But I’m not returning the favor.”

This earns her a chuckle from me, and to my surprise, she chuckles back. It’s probably the first pleasant (genuine) response I’ve gotten since we started filming.

I get to work, running my palm along her instep, feeling its smoothness, then adding pressing pressure as I move up to her toes. She moans softly, the sexy sound going straight to my stomach and lighting a fire there.

Her toes are dainty, the nails clipped short and polished white. They get lost in my large hand as I move them in a clockwise motion, then anti-clockwise.

“Holy shit, that feels good,” she whispers, and I look up, meeting her eyes and seeing nothing but pleasure there. Is this how she looks during—

No, Gideon. We’re not going there.

I return my attention to her foot. Resting the heel on my thigh, I knead the sole, moving up slowly, gently, encouraged by the soft pants coming from her mouth. Every breath sends blood rushing to my cock, and by the time I gesture for her other foot, I’m rock hard, thanking the universe that I’m wearing fatigue pants. There would be no way to hide this erection otherwise.

Chancing a glance at Ana makes me instantly regret it. Her nipples press against the T-shirt, looking just as hard as my cock feels. She’s turned on. Fuck. This is not helping. From the nonchalant way she’s now staring at me, I’d bet my next paycheck she’s trying hard to hide how she feels.

Trying, yet failing.

Those fucking nipples.Jesus. I’m already salivating from wanting them in my mouth. I can feel their texture on my tongue. It’s not hard to imagine her moans when I—

“Break it up, you lovebirds,” Sandy, Ana’s PA interrupts with a grin. “At least, for now. Ana, you’ve got a phone call from some guy named Logan. He says it’s important.”

Ana’s cheeks go flaming red as she yanks her foot from my lap.

“I transferred the call to your trailer, just for some privacy,” Sandy advises.

Ana nods. “Thanks.”

Without looking at me, she slips her feet in the pair of flip-flops Sandy placed at her feet, then hurries off. I watch her back disappear as I stand, not even thinking about my erection. The only thing on my mind is the question;who the fuck is Logan?

Chapter 17

Ana

Holy mother of everything; what just happened? Did I really get turned on by Carter’s foot rub?

A fricking foot rub? Seriously?

I close the trailer door and lean against it, releasing a loud breath, my pussy still throbbing from Carter’s touch.

It was my foot, goddamnit! Jesus, hormones, get a grip.

White-hot pleasure sparks in my stomach from the memory of his hand rubbing my sole.Acalloused hand. Fuck, why did that roughness feel so good?

A glance in the floor-length mirror makes me gasp. The stiff peaks of my nipples press against the shirt. My face heats as I wonder if Carter noticed how aroused I was. Him seeing how much he turns me on, that’s not good. It’s like a shark catching the scent of blood in the water.

Tori might call me crazy, but I don’t want him to be attracted to me. I don’t want him to pursue me. Guys like Carter want one thing only, and I’m not that kind of girl. I need stability. I want a man who desires to settle down.

Although, the thought of him chasing me is such a turn on.

Especially when I know what would happen when he catches me.

The way he rubbed my feet leaves no doubt that Carter is a man who knows how to pleasure a woman. To be honest, I’d love to experience how that feels. Having sex with Logan was okay, but it was nothing to write home about. None of my past experiences were. In fact, I’ve never had an orgasm that didn’t involve my sex toys.

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