“Sorry, I wasn’t looking where—”
The sight of Chase standing there was almost enough to knock me over. I’d secretly hoped to see him, yet never thought I actually would. What are the chances? I did a double take, sure I was seeing things. But it was him all right, in the flesh. And what flesh it is. Standing there shirtless and wet—wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung swim trunks—he had me stuttering. Literally.
“Ch…Ch…Ch—” I couldn’t get the word out.
Of course, Chase didn’t miss a beat. He smirked and leaned in. “You do a cute train impression, Buttercup.”
He remembers me.
I shook my head, attempting to snap myself out of it. But it was no use. He was so tall, and I was so short, I had no choice but to stare at his body. Water trickled down his abs. I was mesmerized watching it speed up and slow down as it crossed the rippled lines of his six-pack. Damn.
I cleared my throat and finally spoke. “Chase.”
I was pretty freaking proud of myself for getting that much out. He had a towel slung around his neck and lifted it to dry off his dripping hair, revealing even more flesh. His pectoral muscles were carved and perfect. And—oh, my God…is that… Holy shit. It is. His nipples were cold and erect, and one of them was….was…pierced.
About the Author:
Vi Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free time, which she complains about often, but wouldn't change for the world. She is an attorney and a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, & USA Today Best Selling author. Over the last three years, eleven of her titles have appeared on the USA Today Bestseller lists and four on the New York Times Bestseller lists.
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