like he wet his hands and brushed it back and aviator glasses cover his eyes. He throws down his stuff next to me, and I see he brought three towels and two pairs of jeans.
“What do you want to shoot first?” Ralph asks, and Carter just shrugs. “Let’s do the dry photos first, then we can do some in the water.”
“Great,” he says, and I watch him just pull off his swim trunks, and I swear I hold my breath, thinking that his cock is just going to be dangling in the air in two seconds, but he’s wearing black boxers under it. I try not to focus on the package part and whip my head around to give him some privacy. He grabs the jeans and puts them on.
“I’m ready,” he says just like that. No muss, no fuss. But then I have to remind myself that this man has shown his cock to countless women in situations that are most assuredly less private than this, so it’s nothing for him to strip down to his skivvies and change in front of his PR rep.
“Lose the shirt,” Ralph says as he takes some test shots of the water, adjusting something in the lens. I look up, and holy shit, I have seen him on covers shirtless before, but I think he’s been hitting the gym harder than ever because he’s sculpted. His shoulders are wide, and you see the exact way the muscles form when he tosses the shirt down. His pecs are perfect, and his abs are outlined. There is not one ounce of fat on him. His waist goes trim, and you see his side v muscle. He has a soft dusting of hair on his pecs and then a little around his belly button. It trails down to a sight that’s been seen by plenty . . . but not by me, and I’m feeling a little more than flushed. “The glasses also,” he says, and he squats down beside me now.
“Here,” he says, putting them on my face. “It’ll help with the sun.” Then he hands me his phone. “Do you want to take a couple of pictures of Ralph getting shots of me with the beach backdrop, and we can post it?”
“Um, yeah,” I say, holding out my hand. “Actually, why don’t you do a video on Snapchat showing them what you are doing and then do a short one for Instagram? Tell them pictures will follow.”
He grabs the phone back, going on it and pressing things.
“Hey, Snap land, I’m shooting some beach today. Stay tuned.” He stops talking and then posts it and must pull up his Instagram. “Hey, Instagram, I’m at the beach . . . wishing all of you were here with me.” He turns the camera. “Ralph, say hi.” Ralph looks at him and waves. “Stay tuned for some shots of this man working his magic with a camera.” He then hands me the phone. “Good?”
“Very!” I smile at him, and then he walks over to Ralph. As they discuss what they are going to do, I get up, dusting some of the sand from my pants, and then watch as he gets into place. I watch him turn into the heartthrob right before my eyes. The smirk comes out, and his eyes even twinkle. His gaze stays on the camera as he walks to Ralph, and Ralph snaps away. I take a couple of shots of him smiling at the camera and then one with his hand up covering half his face, giving the camera his famous half smirk. I zoom in, and his eyes land on me, making the picture perfect. I’m looking down at the picture when a text comes in with no name attached to it, just a number.
Unknown: We can totally fuck on the down low. Just name the time and place.
Looking back up at him, I feel the heat rushing up my neck. I just shake my head. His whole talk was for nothing. The meeting was for nothing because he isn’t going to change anything. I toss the phone on his change of clothes and try to contain my rage. “Is there a code to get into the gate?” I turn, looking over at him posing, and Ralph tells me the code.
“Three, two, four, one,” he says, and I turn and walk toward the gate without even a goodbye. I get to the gate and punch in the numbers, and I’m walking up