"Darling, are you still with me ?"
I snap out of my thoughts. I haven't heard a word of what Mike said.
"Sorry, I was thinking about something. What did you say?"
"The boys and I went running and playing basketball. It was so hot that we decided to come and have a swim. Is that okay with you? I know you wanted to relax today."
"Don't worry, it's okay. Wait… who are we?"
He nods behind him. "Me and Ed."
I haven't seen him until now. Flushed, wet with sweat, in a sleeveless white teeshirt and long black shorts. His unruly copper mane is glued to his head, instead of sticking in every way like usual.
Mike pecks my cheek. "I'm going to get a pair of swimming trunks, Ed. Give me five minutes".
Once Mike leaves, Edward spins the ball on his long fingers, smirking.
"Hello, Isabella. It's always nice to see you."
The arrogance in his voice makes me want to slap him. How does he dare invade my personal space, my home, my marriage, my life?
I hiss. "What are you doing here, Cullen?"
"Mike invited me to swim. That's a nice proposal in this hot weather."
"And you couldn't say no, could you?"
"It's not polite to refuse an invitation, Isabella, and in my defence, I didn't know you'd be there…" he shrugs.
"Had you known, would you have refused the invitation?"
His eyes check out my body, lingering on my hips then my breasts, before reaching my face. I know that smirk. That's the same one he had years ago as soon as we managed to be alone together. The same smirk he kept on his face when he sat on his bed, his back to the headboard and invited me to join him with just a wave of his hand.
"And miss the opportunity to see you like that? Never."
I can't even answer his comment before Mike joins us again by the pool. He has changed into swim trunks and hands a towel to Edward.
"Do you need trunks, or are you okay?"
"I'm fine, don't worry. I can swim in my underwear. It's like a speedo." He lifts his shirt over his head and makes quick work of his shoes, without even untying the laces. My eyes are glued to his skin, checking every square inch of his body, following every line of black ink on his torso.
The last time I saw him, his skin was unmarked but I knew he was dying of getting tattoos, probably to fit his bad boy image. I hadn't expected his upper body would be almost covered. Nor did I expect to find a piercing, with a silver bar in his nipple.
A loud splash and a few drops of water landing on my feet draw our attention to the pool.
"Come on Ed, don't be shy! Don't worry about Bella; she won't judge your body. She has everything she needs at home." Mike laughs before diving to swim underwater.
"Oh, really?"
Oh god, not that voice. I know that voice as I know his smirk. It's the same voice he used when he asked me years ago if I wanted to play. And it's the same voice he used when he whispered dirty words in my ear in the dark corners of high school.
I'm afraid to look at him, but I know I can't help it. His fingers grip the waist of his black shorts, making the fabric slide down his thighs. He doesn't lower his eyes; his tongue peeks to moisten his lower lip.
"See something you like, Isabella?" He chuckles.
I can't talk, I can't close my eyes. I hate the power he has over me right now. I'm 18 again, I'm back in that locker room, after that match, when he took off his shorts and raised an eyebrow, letting me decide.
"Or something you remember, maybe?"
Like this day, he wears black briefs, so fitting that they leave little to the imagination. His body was perfect at 18. His body at 33, with ink swirling on his chest and that metal, is even better.
I can't move as he walks closer to me. I can't take my eyes off his body, especially the outline of his cock in his underwear.
"Be careful, Isabella. Either you're cold or wet. Your nipples will always betray you." He whispers in my ear as he walks to the edge and dives elegantly into the pool.
The arrogance. The audacity. With my husband a few feet from us, totally oblivious to the fact that another man was turning his wife on.