by Amy Fetzer
"Over there, Dad!" Christopher pointed.
"Thanks, guys." He dived underwater, wondering if their mother knew how much they ganged up on her. Chase snared her ankle, yanking her into his arms and kissing her as they rose to the surface.
"You're 'posed to dunk her!" Christopher shouted, then giggled when his mom sent him a warning glance.
"Meet me on the porch after bedtime," she said against his lips, "and we'll make the trees shake."
Chase groaned at the image, sinking into her mouth just as two impatient boys cannonballed inches from them.
They broke apart and Chase looked at Tessa, a frown on his face.
"They're your sons," she warned gently. "Deal with it."
Chase watched her swim away, enjoying the sound of her laughter, laced with sensual promise. His boys clung to him like monkeys and as much as he adored them, he was going to tucker them out so she could keep that promise. Now and for the next couple of centuries.
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