He lifted the t-shirt higher, revealing the full expanse of her toned abdomen–hard ridges of muscle carved from years of discipline,Sexy Wife a faint sheen of sweat still glistening on her skin. “Because I’m not a narcissist,” she said, but she climbed off the bed and joined him, standing behind him in the mirror. “Let’s see how you keep up.”
The home gym was a compact setup in the basement–dumbbells lined against one wall, a bench press in the center, a pull-up bar mounted above. “Holy shit,” he breathed, his voice awed in her throat, watching the definition sharpen with each curl.
