Chapter Twenty-Two
Sophie
Waking up alone the following morning stings. My mind raced, concerned about where my husband could be, and why after all the conversations we had yesterday, he’d leave me this morning, of all mornings.
Certain that the answers to my questions wouldn’t miraculously appear while lying in bed, I flick the covers back and wander into the bathroom.
My body aches deliciously. I had quite a workout yesterday; the corners of my mouth curl up as I remember Spencer’s possession of me last night.
After our shower, he dried us both, taking his time with me as if I were delicate and he might hurt me. He brushed my hair and dried it, making my whole scalp tingle under his gentle caress, before laying me on the bed, to make slow passionate love to me.
With every brush of his lips over my sensitive skin, I could feel our connection slowly restoring. And afterward, he held me tight, as if I might float away if he let me go.
Hence, my surprise at waking up alone.
In the bathroom, the first thing that hits me is the absence of Spencer’s scent. Usually after he’s showered, sometimes even hours later, his cologne lingers in the air. But today, when I open the door to our ensuite, the strong familiar scent I love is noticeably missing.
After fulfilling my most pressing early morning needs, I dress in another satin nightdress—with a pang of regret that he destroyed my favorite pink one. Though I don’t regret seeing him so overcome with his yearning for me. That was seriously hot.
Wandering down the landing, I notice the guest bedroom door is ajar, suggesting Carlo’s up too. These boys have always been early risers.
As I enter the sitting room, I sense them, but can’t see them. Tiptoeing further into the grand room, I cast my eyes around but there’s no sign of either of them. Yet, the scent of fresh coffee lingers in the atmosphere.
My tired brain is confused, pondering their whereabouts until a sudden idea hits me. My suspicions were confirmed halfway down the stairs to our basement.
A loud male groan halts my progress.
Are they?
The idea of seeing these two irresistible men together is thrilling. Some of the most erotic experiences of my life have involved witnessing their bodies sliding together. They’re twenty percent fight versus eighty percent passion.
On the nights when I’m alone and needy, it’s the memories of Carlo and Spencer together that feature in my fantasies.
My descent slows, hoping to arrive undetected.
“Ah, Carlo,” I hear Spencer groan, and sparks of excitement detonate in my tummy.
After Carlo’s speech about not wanting to resume our previous arrangement a few days ago, I didn’t expect to witness their physical relationship again.
“You’re mine, Compagno, and you’ll do as you’re told,” Carlo’s Italian accented voice growls.
Fuck. That’s possessive, and kind of hot.
As I approach the door of the gym, I can hear panting, and there’s another noise that I can’t quite distinguish. My hand hovers on the doorknob, unsure whether to push inside. It feels wrong to invade their privacy but the temptation to see the men I love in the throes of passion is too great.
I depress the handle, and just as the door cracks open, I realize what the noise is. It’s the sound of feet pounding on the treadmill.
They’re working out.
“What’s my reward for doing this?” Spencer gasps.
Still unaware of my presence.
“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.”
He glances down at me, his face brimming with affection.
“Spencer and I need to sort some things out today, but we’d love to see you this evening.”
“Grazie, Bella,” he whispers, and leans down to press a kiss to my cheek.
When Carlo steps back, he tries to lighten the mood.
“Spencer.”
I glance over my shoulder to see Spencer’s focus shifting from my backside to Carlo.
“Don’t spend the entire day with your dick buried in your beautiful wife. She’s probably still a little sore from mine last night.”
With that, he pulls the door open without waiting for Spencer’s predictable response.
“Fuck off!” Spencer spits, sitting up urgently.
And this time, I can’t stop myself from grinning.