Page 67 of One Baby Daddy
Not buying it, Hayden eyes James, but before he says anything, he’s called on set. “Got to go.” Dipping his head down, he clasps my chin and gives me a slow, sweet kiss before taking off toward a well-lit set, draped in deep blue fabric. With his tan skin, white briefs, and popping muscles, he’s looking so damn delicious.
I can’t wait for the show.
James steps forward, close enough so only I can hear him. “I’ve seen it before, a woman takes down a man of Hayden’s caliber. I’ve seen them lose everything, and I don’t want that for Hayden. I only want what’s best for him.”
I nod and stand from my chair, wanting to move it closer. Before I excuse myself from the conversation, I look at James and give him a sweet smile. “Thank you, James. I really appreciate your concern for Hayden. But I’m going to tell you this once and only once . . .” I pause and pat his chest. “You can fuck off.”
* * *
Test shots flash, people mill about adjusting lights and the backdrop, PAs stand around with headphones, waiting for their next request while Hayden does pushups on the floor, vigorously working up a sweat.
Me, I sit back in my chair, legs crossed, coffee halfway to my mouth while staring at my boyfriend.
When did shoulder blades become so sexy?
Because Lord Jesus, Hayden has a set of shoulder blades that will tickle any women’s fancy. With every drop to the ground, they form into peaks, surrounded by bulge after bulge of muscle. From his traps, to his shoulders, to his biceps, sinew flows effortlessly, ripples with precision.
Up and down.
Up and down.
I’m transfixed, unable to move, unable to pull my eyes away.
“You about ready?” the photographer, Hildi, asks.
“Yeah, ten more,” Hayden calls out, his voice strained.
Pumping up and down, he shows no struggle in his last ten pushups. His large hands spread over the ground, his forearms working overtime, his head tilted down, giving me the perfect view of his tight, round ass in his white briefs.
Oh heavens.
That ass.
What was he thinking bringing me to this photo shoot? Was this another way for him to torture me?
Because it’s working.
Hopping to his feet, Hayden rubs his hands together, dusting them off, his chest popping, his abs flexing, his body looking better than ever with a light splattering of hair across his thick, barrel-like chest.
A low thrum starts to form between my legs.
My veins are tingling with awareness.
I’m turned on.
From pushups.
And I want more. I’ve become a harlot for pushups.Why am I not filming this?Because then I can watch pushups on replay for hours on end.
I make a mental note to ask Hayden to perform more pushups for me later.
Hayden is put into place, music booms over speakers, and like a seasoned professional, he starts posing for the camera, making little adjustments with his arms and hands.
Grabbing on the back of his neck, head tilted up.
One hand behind his back, abs flexed, pecs full, nipples hard.
Smiling, hand over face as if he’s the shyest, yet hottest man on earth.
