Chase stirred some time around midnight, his dreamless sleep disturbed by a puff of air somewhere in the vicinity of his earlobe.
His eyelids cranked open a fraction, half-heartedly investigating the source of air, only to snap open as he registered a luscious woman draped over his upper torso, her arm flung proprietorially across his chest, and a leg nudging the vicinity of his boxers.
Not just any woman.
Amaya.
His wife.
Whom he wanted to make love to something fierce.
Considering the chaste way they’d fallen asleep, he should gently slip out from under her and try not to wake her.
But his good intentions evaporated when she snuggled closer, her knee edging towards a fast-growing hard-on, and he froze, gritting his teeth to stop from groaning out loud.
He could play the gentleman
