Marcus’ POV
By the time the photographer announces that he’s done, I am so over this whole shoot. The assistant has been openly ogling me from the moment I walked in and honestly, as much as I’m used to it, having my junk out for the world to see is not my idea of a good time.
I hurry past the makeup artist, giving her a tight smile as she flutters her eyelashes at me, having already tried to slip me her phone number. I handed it back immediately much to her surprise.
‘Flattered, but already taken’ I tell her firmly as I push the piece of paper back into her hand.
‘She doesn’t need to know’ Cherise purrs, reaching out to run her fingers up my shirt but I grab her hand. I’m used to the artists having their hands all over me, they have to for the job, what with body oils and the other s.
