"These guys are gorgeous," she says now with little, breathless laugh. "We really should have a shot featuring Manny flanked by his offensive line."
I stare at the image on the massive screen I use when editing photos. Finn stares back at me. It's a fairly tight shot, from the waist up. He's caught in a laugh, his smile self-deprecating and wry. There's a light in his eyes, a charisma and confidence, that draws you in, makes you want to get closer just to bask in his perpetual energy.
It's been days since I've seen him. Enough time that I've almost convinced myself our lunch by the lake had been a one off. A nice memory for me to pull out every once in a while and think about fondly. Except he keeps sending me texts at random times-quick inquiries about my day or cute anecdotes about his.
I've come to live for those texts, each one of them sending small zings of happiness through me. Looking at his smiling face now, I find myself missing him. Which is ridiculous. I barely know Finn Mannus.
I want to know you.
My fingers curl into a fist so I won't touch the screen. What had Meghan been saying? Finn and his linemen. Right. "We can schedule a group photo session if you like. Might make for a nice cover."
///
"I was thinking of having the option to choose your favorite player for the cover," Dani says.
While Megan and Dani go over the costs involved for having various options, I tap my trackpad and move on to a shot of Ethan Dexter, so I don't have to keep staring at Finn's smiling face.
The image of Dex is a good one. Set against a red background, he's crouched down, fingertips braced on the floor, as if he's about to rise up and sprint. Every muscle on his big, impressive frame tensed and corded.
It's enough to stop the conversation between Meghan and Dani.
"Look at those tats," Dani says with appreciation. "They really pop here. I love that you went for color instead of black and white with these, Chess."
I study Dex with detached focus, looking for flaws in the overall image. "Seemed the right choice. Black and white softens things too much. These guys should be shown in living color, bruises and all."
"He'd make a good Mr. December with all that red," Meghan puts in.
"I thought so too," I say.
"We want to send a couple of shots to the press," Meghan goes on. "Whet the public's appetite and drum up some excitement."
"The Dex shot would definitely work."
"Agreed. Love the quiet intensity of him. What else to do you have?"
I click again, and a collective sigh runs over the phone line. As for me, it's as if a wave of heat has slapped into me. Because it's the shot: Finn, his hard, golden body stretched out in a plank position, his expression serene yet intense, almost as if he's on the verge of coming.
I swallow with difficulty, trying to pulling in a breath.
"Wow," Meghan says. "If this got out, I think we'd have a riot on our hands."
"Yeah." Dani sounds queer, as if she's struggling to maintain a steady voice. "Given that he's all … " She clears her throat.
When I'd taken the shot of Finn, I'd been transfixed by his face, the expression on it. But Dani's comment has my attention sliding down. Violent heat suffuses my cheeks. The photo is unedited; I haven't had time to crop out certain things. It doesn't take a genius to know Dani is staring at Finn's cock, hanging low, the wide tip just touching the floor.
"Ah … " Meghan, huffs out a sound. "Is he … Um?"
The heat in me churns, pushing at my skin and clogging my throat. Finn's cock isn't hanging limp but is at half-mast, thick and curving a bit as if it's about to get a whole lot thicker. God, I hadn't even noticed at the time. And now? I am painfully aware that two other women are looking at it; violating Finn's privacy.
"He's getting there," Dani whispers.
The heat in me boils over into something vengeful and dark that feels like possession but is stronger. It crashes over me, followed by a wave of recrimination and shame. I put this picture up without checking. I let them see this. Instantly, I shift the image toward his torso, zooming in on it so that his lower half is out of view.
Somehow, I find my voice, but it sounds halting to my ears. "It happens sometimes when the guys don't have clothes on." I don't know if I'm defending Finn or myself. Neither of us has any reason to be ashamed, but I don't want these women assuming the worst. I push on before they can answer, as if the subject of Finn and his dick is nothing more than a blip. "We'd do something more like this."
"Too bad," Dani murmurs, but then says in a stronger, more professional tone, "I think we should at least bring it down to his hips. Although I'm happy to Photoshop it, if you want to go lower, Meghan."
No fucking way. You don't get him.
"I edit my own work," I say, tightly. "You can crop the picture however you think best after that."
Fuck. I don't even want her manipulating Finn's image. I don't want anyone looking at it again.
"Okay, sure," she says, clearly trying to bring things back to the light and easy level we'd been on before.
I need to get a hold of myself.
On my second monitor, I pick out a shot of Rolondo laughing as he holds a football over his crotch. I move the image over so that it shows up on our chat room. "This is a good one for publicity," I offer. "Rolondo's smile is infectious, and he's playing really well right now."
Thank you, James for your constant football prattle.
"Love it," Meghan says. "But back to Manny's shot. Maybe we should lead with that one."
I'm not bringing it back on screen. No one else is seeing the unedited version again. I shake off the possessive feeling that's clinging to my neck. "It's up to you, obviously, but I think it'd work much better as a surprise. Everyone is going to want to see Mannus. He's your star quarterback and team leader. Keep him under wraps and you feed the need."
///
Part of me is internally laughing at all the bullshit I'm spewing, and wondering if they'll see right through me. The other part hates that I'm even in a conversation that revolves around how to best use Finn's fame.
But Megan makes an agreeable noise over the phone. "I like it. Let's go with Dex and Rolondo for now."
"I can send them over in about an hour," I promise. "I'm just going to touch up a few shadows." Shadow's being a set of balls, but she doesn't need to hear that.
"Great. I'll plan to get them out with a press release today."
Thankfully, the call finishes fairly quickly. As soon as I hang up, I let out a breath and hold my head in my hands. What the fuck is wrong with me? I just hissed and swiped over Finn like some territorial she-beast. I have the horrible suspicion that, if I had been in the room with Dani and Meghan at the time, I'd have bared my teeth at them.
Total she-beast.
Finn isn't mine, and he can take care of himself. Then again, he didn't want to be seen as some piece of man-ass. You were right to protect him.
Running my fingers through my hair, I flip the heavy mass back over my shoulder and take a long, cleansing breath. I have work to do. Thinking about Finn Mannus isn't part of that job. The sooner I remember that, the better off I'll be.
The thought barely settles when my phone digs and my stupid heart gives a happy leap. It's embarrassing how fast I grab for the phone. Maybe even more so when my grin wavers, as I see that it's James texting.
JamesTTwerk: You almost done for the day?
CC: Just finishing up
JamesTTwerk: Cool. You want me to pick you on Friday?
It takes me a second to remember what the hell he's talking about. When I do, I sigh. James is back from New York, and we're supposed to go to our friend Malcolm's annual "Cocks and Cocktails" party. I slump against my chair. Same people, same conversations. Why that has suddenly lost its appeal, I can't say, but just the thought of going exhausts me.
I'm tempted to tell James don't want to go, but I know he'll just nag and cajole me out anyway. And I clearly need to get out of this loft and out of my own head for a while.
Chapter Six
Finn
* * *
Things some people might not know about my job. I am a chess player. You might think I'm just standing there in the huddle, or on the line of scrimmage, shouting out instructions passed down to me by the coach. In reality, it's more than that. I'm reading the defense, arranging my guys like pieces on a board, reacting and plotting. And I'm given about five seconds to do it.