“Good to know.” There was a little silence broken only by the slap of the water hitting the sides and hull of the yacht. “Do you want to take the wheel for a while?" Chase asked.
“I don’t know. I might run into another boat or something.”
“There’s no one else out here. Come on. Stand in front of me, and I’ll steer with you.”
Amaya moved to stand in front of the wheel, and he came in behind her, his arms on either side of her body, his hands resting on top of hers where she was gripping the steering wheel. Who knew steering a yacht could be such a turn-on? The warm, hard presence of his body behind her made every nerve in her core jump up, ready for duty.
His broad hands almost completely covered hers; his fingers were long, strong, and so very capable. Deliciously, dangerously capable.
