Shay’s heart rate kicked up a notch when Dylan entered her space. She looked at her husband. Poor guy. Worry filled those pretty blue eyes that five years later, still melted her on contact. He looked beat. But gorgeous.
Propped against the doorframe, he watched her suspiciously. His gaze lingered on her snug denim cut-offs. Slowly, his focus trailed up to her white, spaghetti-strap cami that did nothing to hide her erect tan nipples.
Shay held her breath. She titled her head to the side, and her smooth dark hair cascaded in lush waves over her shoulder.
“What’s up?” Dylan asked, in a husky tone.
Most days, she had already gone to bed when he got home from work. They rarely saw each other, let alone when Shay was dressed like that. “Hungry?”
She stepped into the light so he could see every inch of her sweet curves. Her husband flinched and she knew she’d gotten to him. Good. Because this was what he’d been missing.