Page 89 of Choosing Hope
“You can fuck me in the shower,” Carlo replies gleefully.
Spencer groans again in objection.
I feel the corners of my mouth curling up in a broad smile, pleased to see their playful conversations have returned after the drama of last night.
It’s Carlo who notices me first. He’s on the treadmill, while Spencer is lying on his back lifting weights.
“Buongiorno, Bella,” Carlo grins, with sweat dripping down his sculpted body. He’s wearing tight workout shorts, which leave nothing to the imagination, and I have to avert my eyes. There’s no wonder he so often picks up women at the gym.
“Good morning, Carlo,” I say, speaking louder than usual over the sound of the equipment. “How did you sleep?”
He presses the stop button, and as his legs slow, his gaze darts to his friend. Without turning to look at Spencer, I’m certain he’ll be wearing the same conspiratorial grin.
“It wasn’t the best night for sleeping but my head seems clearer this morning,” he replies, approaching me with a swagger I’ve grown used to from Carlo.
Curious about what he’s going to do, I stand my ground waiting to see.
“I’ve started Spencer on a new regime. He’s way out of shape and drinking far too much.”
My eyes flit to Spencer. He’s lying on his back, his muscles quivering from the strain of the exercise they’ve endured. He’s wearing similar shorts to Carlo, making it impossible to deny something is turning him on.
Spencer’s carnal stare focuses on me, but it slowly drops as I turn, as if he can see through my nightdress. The fire in his eyes stirs emotions deep inside me.
“He looks pretty perfect to me,” I reply.
Distracted by my husband, I’m barely aware of Carlo until he’s behind me but I don’t turn to look at him, unwilling to tear my eyes from my husband. Our eyes have locked together, creating an energy that feels empowering. My nipples harden under the silky fabric of my dress.
Spencer’s hands are still loosely holding the dumbbell above him, as if he’s resting between reps. His pose is relaxed and comfortable. The stress previously lining his forehead has disappeared, making him look younger. As if he’s turned the clock back.
With one finger, Carlo sweeps the hair back off my shoulder, causing goosebumps to scatter everywhere.
He presses his lips delicately to the soft skin between my shoulder and neck.
“Get off my wife!” Spencer orders.
Carlo makes a whining noise in his throat, and my disobedient lips threaten to twitch into a smile.
“But she’s so delicious. Are you sure you don’t want another demonstration of how good we look together?” he teases.
“I’m serious, Carlo, touch her again and I’ll knock you out.”
Spencer’s possessiveness makes my heart pound. He’s never been like this with Carlo and me. Perhaps when we were younger, and someone came onto me in a club, sure, but never with Carlo.
I sense rather than see Carlo’s grin.
“Today I’m going to meet Travis. I’ll take my stuff with me,” Carlo states. “Tonight, I’ll stay at the hotel, give you guys some space.”
Never taking my eyes off my husband, I watch him, wondering if he’ll react to his friend’s departure. And if I didn’t know him so well, I’d have missed it.
“No, don’t do that. Come back for dinner. I’ll cook,” I say. “You two aren’t sweeping all this under the carpet. We need to talk and get this worked out once and for all.”
A flash of concern clouds Spencer’s face, but he disguises it by lifting his focus to Carlo, waiting for his response.
“I think you guys need to work your shit out first,” Carlo states.
I spin to face him.
“No, Carlo. This isn’t just about Spencer and me; you’re part of this family. A fundamental part.”
