Chapter Twelve
SOMETIMES CHANDLER woke up sporting an erection, which usually meant he desperately needed to empty his bladder. His morning wood in this instance had nothing to do with urination. Instead it had everything to do with the sexy black man pinning him to the mattress. The sexiest man, in fact, Chandler had ever known.
“You seem to be feeling a lot better this morning.” Marcus stared into his eyes.
“That’s ’cause I really, really, like what I’m feeling.” He pressed both hands against Marcus’ smooth pectorals, and the mere touch made his c**k throb wickedly.
“What were you dreaming about?” Though asking an utterly benign question, even Marcus’ smooth and sultry voice excited Chandler. Something about it stirred a warmth within the center of Chandler’s chest.
“Doesn’t matter.
