Page 47 of Double Play

“Thank you.”

He points to the green flooring in front of a green screen. “We’ll work here. I will transform the green floor and backdrop into various parts of a ball field in my studio after we take the pictures.”

I nod. “I understand. Is Layton here yet?” I haven’t seen him this morning.

Before he can answer, a door on the other side of the room opens and Layton walks out. He’s wearing an Anacondas jersey, but it’s unbuttoned. Shit. I don’t need to see his chest and abs, which, incidentally, are chiseled like they were carved by an artist. He’s got a drop of chest hair that matches the hair on his head and a sexy trail from his belly button into his pants. He’s broad, muscular, and gorgeous. Perfection. I hope my battery-operated version of Captain America is charged. He will most definitely be getting a workout tonight.

When I’m done staring at his top half, I move down to his bottom half. It occurs to me that he’s in baseball pants. I cross my arms as I turn to LeRond. With an extreme amount of edge, I say, “They must have forgottenmypants.”

LeRond has a guilty look. “Sorry. It came from above.”

Layton realizes why I’m pissed. He nods his head. “She’s right. Either we both wear pants or neither of us wears pants.”

LeRond places his thumb up to his ear and pinkie by his mouth like it’s a pretend telephone and starts bobbing his head. “Aha. Yes. I see. No problem.” He pretends to hang up the imaginary phone. “It’s just come down from management that neither of you should be wearing pants.”

Layton and I can’t help but laugh at LeRond, easing the tension a bit. Layton unbuttons and removes his pants.

For the love of God. Why did I open my big mouth? Ishould have voted for him to keep them on. He’s wearing navy-blue boxer briefs that leave very little to the imagination. His legs are even more muscular than one would expect from a catcher. The fact that he squats all day certainly shows. His thick quads are bigger than my entire body.

LeRond starts fanning himself and breathes, “Holy hell.” I can’t disagree with that.

He eventually composes himself. “You two remember that this is for a positive body image issue. All different types of athletes will be represented. You two were chosen for baseball and softball. Show off your sport as best you can. Unfortunately, I have to go. You have my cell if you need anything.”

I give him a small smile. “Thanks, LeRond.”

He leaves and Francois motions for us to stand on the green mat, which we do. I run my fingertips over Layton’s cheek. “Wow, you can’t see any bruising.”

“Raphael put something on my face to hide it.”

I giggle. “Layton Lancaster, are you wearing makeup?”

He smiles. “I thought it would have been badass to show it, but Raphael said no.”

Francois manipulates our bodies a bit as he gets what seem to be test shots. We then take a large grouping of pictures, posing with our bats and gloves. A few with our arms crossed. We haven’t had to touch much. A few back-to-back poses, but nothing too intimate. Maybe this won’t be so bad.

Eventually, Francois says, “Arizona, turn your back to Layton.” Gladly. I don’t think I can look at his perfect body anymore. “Layton, wrap your arms around her and pull her into your body. Then slowly explore her body with your hands.”

The moment I feel his front on my back, I can feel my eyes flutter. When his hands touch my thighs, I have tocontain the moan. Would it be awkward to spontaneously orgasm in front of a dozen people from a simple hug?

“Arizona, tilt your head to the side. Layton, run your lips up her neck, but don’t actually kiss her. It will create creases in your face. We want the illusion of kissing, butneveran actual kiss. It’s better for the camera.”

As his hands move up and down my waist and hips, his soft lips gently move up and down my neck. My whole body erupts in goosebumps. I’m powerless against it.

“Good job, Arizona. You relaxing your mouth like that looks authentic. Like you’re genuinely enjoying it.”

I can feel Layton silently laughing, so I throw him a solid elbow to the stomach on the side facing away from the camera.

He gives me a mock grunt of pain in a way only I can hear, though it’s like my elbow hit a brick wall. Does he have any fat on his body?

After several photos in this position, Francois says, “Arizona, now turn around and face him.” I do, but I can’t look Layton in the eyes. Those blue-green eyes of his will be my official undoing. “Layton, slowly unbutton her shirt.”

I snap my head to the photographer. “What?”

“Mon chéri, you agreed to a boudoir photo shoot. It’s about body image. We need to actuallyseeyour body. You know you’re wearing a thousand-dollar pair of undergarments. It’s art showing your love, your sport, and your athletic body. Pretend we’re not here.”

If they weren’t here, he wouldn’t have his hands all over my body. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

Layton begins to unbutton my shirt. I notice a slight tremble to his fingers as he works his way down. Him being nervous puts me at ease.

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