“Mr. Merrick. I’m a huge fan,” Dean gushed. Standing this close to Colton and his sparkling blue eyes, pouty pink lips, and whisps of blond bangs swooping down across his forehead made him breathless.
For a brief moment, the whole world faded into the background and there was only the two of them. From themoment their hands touched, Dean felt a connection with Colton, a little flicker of something electric, magnetic, and familiar…like an old friend or a favorite sweater. He wondered if Colton felt it too.
“Oh, we’re not that formal around here. Call me Colton,” he smiled and winked, squeezing Dean’s hand.
That smile!Dean thought. His perfect white teeth, dimples in his cheeks, in every sense of the word a megawatt smile, and those fucking lips! Dean was ready to drop to his knees right there, right where he stood, and praise any deity available for gifting such a perfect specimen of a man to the world.
“Thanks, Colton. Very nice to meet you.” Dean could hardly contain his excitement. Surrounded by four of the sexiest NFL players playing the game, he slowly eye-fucked each of them. He might come just standing there.
“I hear a little southern accent,” Colton said. “Where are you from?” His deep voice sent shivers down Dean’s spine and directly into his groin. Dean could only wonder what the gorgeous hunk of a man would sound like having sex. He shook away the thought before his arousal became obvious in his pants.
“Oh, I grew up in rural Georgia.” Dean chuckled, biting his bottom lip. “I try to cover it up, but it comes out from time to time, usually when I’m drinking.” He laughed.
“Oh no, man, you shouldn’t cover it up! A southern accent is really cool, it’s distinctive! I’d kill to have an accent.”
Dean smiled, feeling a slight blush form on his cheeks. “Thanks, Colton.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Dean spotted a mountain of a man walking toward them. The whole group turned to face him.
“Hey look, there’s Mr. Lynch.” Bryce lifted his chin toward him.
Jerome Lynch was the general manager of the team.
He walked toward them carrying a small box, and the closer he got, the larger he became. He was an enormous man, towering over everyone else in the group.
“Hey, guys. So, Coach Shepherd tells me that we have a huge Niners fan here.” Mr. Lynch smiled, shaking Dean’s hand.
“Yes sir! Massive fan. Faithful to The Bay!” Dean grinned as he replied.
Mr. Lynch opened the box he was carrying. “Well, we thought we would give you a small token of thanks, for putting us in your video.” The box contained a custom Niners jersey with “DJ DVLN” on the back, and the number 00.
“Oh wow! This is awesome.” Dean reverently held up the jersey. “Thank you!” Dean’s eyes were as wide as a kid on Christmas morning, overflowing with joy. He thought he might cry. “Can I wear this in the video?”
“Of course! We were hoping you would." Mr. Lynch was obviously tickled over Dean's excitement. "Well, I’ll let you get back to it.”
“Thank you again, sir. I’m going to cherish this for the rest of my life.”
Dean whistled for the video director, who ran over without hesitation.
“Check this out!” Dean proudly displayed the jersey with a huge goofy grin. “Okay, new plan. We’re going to use this in the video.”
Dean turned to Colton. “Is it possible for me to get some pads and gear?”
“Sure. I’ll take you to the equipment room.” Colton gestured toward the facility.
Bryce, Greg, and Neil began filming with the crew as Colton walked Dean off the field.
As they walked, Dean bit his bottom lip. “I really appreciate you guys doing this! Hopefully it won’t be too much of an inconvenience.”
“Nah, we're happy to do it. I’m excited to be in a music video.” Colton smiled. “I gotta be honest though, I’ve never heard of you.”
Dean laughed. “I figured. Unless you actively follow dance music, you most likely haven't heard our stuff. We rarely get play on mainstream radio. So, I’m not offended.”
Colton stepped ahead of Dean to open the door to the equipment room and Dean took advantage of his position to admire Colton’s exquisite ass…two perfectly round mounds of totally sexy man meat. Dean licked his bottom lip, fighting the urge to reach out and squeeze it.
Inside the equipment room, there were tons of helmets, straps, pads, jerseys, pants, everything stored in bins and racks. It was a massive space and Dean wondered how they would ever find what he needed.
Off to his right, Dean heard a gasp and, “No way…DJ DVLN?!”
