Page 24 of Not Your Pucking Girl

“Are you?” he questions. “You’ve only known this chick for two weeks. Are you sure it’s not just something physical?”

“Trust me, if I do, it wouldn’t be intentional,” I tell him. “She draws me in. I thought it was just about sex, but it’s more than that. Hell, I crave her attention. She’s the first girl in a long time who’s left me needing more.”

“I know the feeling, man,” he tells me with a smirk, referring to Sophie. “Give her the time she needs. If she’s as serious about this as you are, she’ll come around when she’s ready.”

“Since when did you start getting all soft?” I joke.

He scoffs but answers anyway. “Since I’ve realized that I’m leaving this place at the end of the season, and I’ll do whatever it takes to have that girl come with me.”

“Fuck,” I say, shocked at his admission. “You’re in deeper than I thought.”

“Yeah, I know, man,” he says. “At least Dani is the relationship kind of girl. Sophie is hard as ice when it comes to getting her to admit anything.”

“Don’t stress man,” I say, getting up and clapping him on the back. “You’ve got all season to convince her.”

“Nah, I’ve got to lock her down before she gets bored and moves on,” he laughs. “Now, what do you say we actually head to the gym and then to Micky’s for a beer?”

“Sounds like the best fucking plan you’ve had all day.”

Chapter 9

Danielle

“Checkthisoneout,”I laugh as I flick through the photos from the shoot. Sophie and Jared squish in to get the perfect view of the man-meat on the screen.

Jared leans over my shoulder to get closer, stealing the mouse, and zooming in on Shorty’s crotch. “Is that his dick, or his thumb?”

Sophie snorts her wine all over the screen but leans in for a closer look, her brows furrowed with intense concentration. “I’d say it’s his dick,” she laughs. “No wonder they call him Shorty.”

“Alright, you idiots, back up,” I demand, wiping the spattered wine off the screen. “I’m not going to be able to look at the kid again after seeing that,” I say, hitting delete on the image.

I had promised Coach Harris that all photos will be respectable, and any slip-ups would be permanently deleted so his skaters won’t land in hot water. However, I didn’t promise that I wouldn’t have a viewing party in my room while I worked on it.

We spend a good portion of our afternoon flicking through the images, fixing up the lighting and contrast in Photoshop as we go. We make sure to delete anything that shows a little too much skin, no matter how attractive that skin may be, ensuring the calendar remains PG.

I continue working on the images with Sophie and Jared oohing and ahhing beside me. I’ve already got a good selection of images that would work perfectly when I get to the shots of Tank and Miller shirtless on the ice. I must say, these are easily going to be my favorites. The boys look amazing under the spotlight. Amazingly drool-worthy.

After touching up a few of the photos and emailing a shot of Tank to Sophie, who insisted the image is required for her spank bank, I add my favorites to the growing pile of images in the maybe pile. My heart breaks knowing I’m going to have to narrow it down.

I click next and come to the image of Miller in the weight room, popping the button on his jeans, and my stomach clenches, the memory of what happened in there fresh in my mind. “Wowza,” Sophie says, getting close and personal with the screen. “Holy hell. This photo is definitely making it in the calendar.”

“Look at his eyes,” Jared says, more than impressed. “He wasn’t posing for the camera here. This was all for you, Dani girl.”

My cheeks flush, and I refuse to comment, making a show of getting back to editing the images. But unfortunately for me, Sophie knows me all too well. “Yeah, something definitely went down in that room,” she says with a wide grin, pride in her eyes as she gives Jared a high five behind me.

I flick to the next image, only to see Miller’s perfect ass looking back at me. “Fuck me,” Sophie blanches, eyes wide. “Email me that.”

“Where are you all?” Ashton calls from the kitchen.

“Dani’s room,” Jared yells.

Not a moment later, Ashton makes his appearance in my doorway and his gaze immediately falls to the screen. “Sweet, baby Jesus. Is that Miller Cain’s ass?” he asks, his jaw dropping.

“Indeed it is,” I say, physically unable to remove my eyes from the screen. I go about saving his ass images to another folder before Sophie takes over and saves her favorite as the desktop background.

“Yeah, that’s exactly where that belongs,” she comments. Who am I to disagree?

We go about editing the rest of Miller’s images, making sure to save a few more in my Miller folder along the way. By dinner time, we’ve narrowed the selection down to the final twelve images and formatted the rest of the calendar.

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