A week later, after my hot session with my massage therapist, David had booked us another “couples’ weekend,” but this time he went for the steam room, telling me he’d meet me in the waiting room later. Perfect, because things were about to get steamy.
I texted Alex; immediately my husband disappeared behind the frosted glass door.
Me: Room 7. Now. I’m already naked.
I didn’t see his reply. He just appeared, locking the door behind him the way he did last time that made my stomach flip.
He wasn't wearing scrubs this time. He wore dark jeans and a fitted black tee that curved out every line of his chest. He was looking like a model, his eyes darker than I remembered, almost angry with want.
“You're impatient today,” he said in a low tone, stepping close enough that I could feel the h
