Page 42 of Everywhere You Look
“Queer athletes in professional sports are still ahuge news story, even if you and Luke have both been out since the beginning. Between your marriage and Breaker Lawson and Lennon Griffith being teammates on the Redwoods and boyfriends, we’d be stupid not to capitalize on the momentum now. Besides,” Adriana says, reaching out to poke my lubed-up stomach. “It’s only been a year since you retired and your body isn’t going to look this good forever. Don’t you want to be able to look back on this moment when you're eighty years old and remember when you used to be young and hot and hard?”
Being hard is the whole fucking problem, Adriana, I think to myself.
The lights dim, and a production assistant comes over to shoo the women still primping me away. He tells me that the photographer is ready for me and leads me down the hall to where Luke is already waiting for me. His back is turned, and I let out a shaky breath as I take in the sight of him. He is unfairly sexy. From the broad span of his shoulders to the carved traps that lead down to his tapered waist, to the two dimples at the bottom of his spine that I’m desperate to run my tongue over, every inch of Luke Cannon is perfection.
I’m so enamored by the way the shapes and shadows of his figure are highlighted by the sexy redglow of the set lighting, that it takes me a moment to realize what he’s staring at.
“Is that…” I start, and Luke nods.
“A bathtub? Yes.”
Not just a bathtub. It’s a bathtub filled with a milky liquid, sprinkled with rose petals and emanating a steam that makes the whole room smell like jasmine.
“But why is it…” I swallow thickly.
“Why is it a bathtub? I don’t know. I barely passed freshman philosophy in college.”
The heat in the room swirls around us, making the baby oil lathering my skin feel thick and sticky as it mixes with the perspiration seeping from my pores. I look at Luke, and while part of me is happy to see that he seems just as confused and out of sorts as I am, another part is wholly distracted by the beads of sweat trailing a path down his glistening chest.
“We decided to go in a different direction!” Jae, one of the photographers from this morning announces, bouncing on their toes with excitement as they approach us. “The whole sexy, oiled-up athlete thing feels so worn out, and—no offense—neither of you even play anymore. So since I’m the creative powerhouse behind this portion of the day, I decided, fuck it! Let’s gosteamy and sensual. Lose the pants and get in the tub, boys.”
Jae grabs Luke and me by the hands and drags us further into the room, stopping just short of the edge of the tub. Then they, along with the rest of the barebones crew, head behind a curtain to give us privacy while we undress.
“Do you have underwear on?” I murmur. The stylists had me go commando under these football pants, and the subtle shake of Luke’s head tells me that his stylists did the same.
“So I guess we just…” Luke starts, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.
“Get naked and get in the tub.”
With shaky hands, I pull the loose ties of the white pants and shuck them to the ground. I kick them off along with my sneakers and climb into the tub, sinking under the warm water as quickly as I can. The mix of the heat and the scent of the essential oils do little to calm my racing heart.
“Damn, you’re quick,” Luke laughs as he fiddles with the ties on his own pants. He turns his back to me as he pushes them over his hips. My mind is screaming at me to look away, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from the globes of Luke’s ass or the thick, muscular curves of his tree trunk thighs if I tried. My breath hitches, and I’m thankful for the hum of theR&B music playing overhead that masks the sounds of my irregular breathing.
Even SZA’s crooning can’t cover up the gasp that escapes my lips when Luke turns and my eyes settle between his legs. I should probably close them. I should look away. Avert my gaze, look up at the ceiling, examine my nail beds, literally do anything but stare. But how the hell am I supposed to look anywhere else when the dick that loves to snuggle against my hip while Luke sleeps is staring me right in the face, half-hard and hanging proudly between my husband’s legs.
My own dick swells so quickly, I feel like I almost pass out from the blood rush. I can’t even scoot or adjust before Luke approaches the tub.
“Room for one more?” he asks as he steps into the bath, turning so that his peachy ass passes right in front of my face as he sinks down.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
He’s gonna feel it. He’s gonna feel my hard dick and he’s going to know that I’m a horny pervert and all those mornings I spent sneaking out of bed and getting myself off to thoughts of him are all going to go to waste. I can throw all that hard work right into the trash, because my cock is fuckingweepingas Luke settles into my lap. I’m two seconds away from dunking my head in the bath water and drowningmyself out of pure humiliation when Jae reappears with a camera strapped around their neck.
“You know, I just realized I forgot to leave out the privacy pouches for you boys!”
“Now they tell us,” Luke murmurs, and I chuckle, which causes my body to shift and my hips to lift, ever-so-slightly.
My dick drags along Luke’s ass, and suddenly, I don’t feel like laughing anymore. I try to slide backwards, but there’s nowhere for me to go, and the movement causes water to slosh over the side of the tub.
“Relax, Dean. It’s fine, it’s just your body doing its thing,” Luke whispers over his shoulder. I press my lips into a tight line and nod.
“But it shouldn’t be a problem,” Jae continues, thankfully oblivious to the awkward tension simmering in my gut. They hold up the camera and take a few test photos. “The water is opaque enough, we don’t have to worry about any willy shots. And it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, being married and all. Just try to keep your hands where I can see them, okay? I run a PG-13 ship here, boys.”
“You hear that husband? Keep those hands where we can see them,” Luke says as he settles his forearms over mine on the edge of the tub and intertwines our fingers. The rasp in his voice scrapesacross my insides like gravel, making my heart and stomach go topsy-turvy.
“Is the water temperature okay?” Jae asks as he clicks away.
“Perfect,” Luke hums as he leans back, settling against my chest and closing his eyes. I look down at him, taking in the way his long, dark lashes fan out over his cheeks and the slight flush of his skin from the heat of the room and the water. He looks impossibly soft and small like this, just like he does in the mornings when I wake up with him still asleep in my arms.
