Give Me More (Salacious Players Club #3) (21)

Groggily, I wander down the hall toward the bathroom, and charge through the closed door, heading straight for the toilet. But I don’t make it to the toilet. Instead, the feminine gasp and the sight of pale, freckled flesh in front of me halts my movement.

The beer has my brain moving a little slowly because, instead of bolting out of the bathroom like I should when my eyes land on a naked Isabel, I stand and stare like the dumb asshole I am.

“Oh shit,” I say in a breathy mumble as my gaze focuses on her small, perky breasts, cascading downward until I’m just staring at the tiny triangle patch of curly copper pubic hair.

She doesn’t cover up. Her hand does not slide over her private parts like they should when your husband’s best friend barges through a clearly closed door, like the ogre he is, and although I’m probably standing there staring for only a split second, it feels like so much longer. That one long second might as well be ten minutes of me gawking at her naked body, memorizing every tiny freckle, the curve of her collarbones, the way her hip bones jut out from her delicate frame, looking so fragile she could break.

In that one split second, I commit all of Isabel to memory, a memory I have no rights to and definitely don’t deserve.

But like I said, my brain is a horny, fickle asshole who doesn’t behave.

When the world starts spinning again, I crash backward, out of the bathroom, and bolt toward the living room. A moment later, she’s behind me, a soft hand on my shoulder as I stumble toward the fridge for a bottle of water.

“Drake, stop,” she commands, and I keep my eyes averted, even when she puts herself in front of me. To my relief, she’s covered herself, wrapping a white towel around her body.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were home. Where’s Hunter?” I ask, looking around for him.

“He went out to get something to eat. We decided to stay home since you were gone.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” I reply. “Why were you naked?”

“I went down to the gym while you guys were gone. I just showered again.”

I’m anxious, feeling cornered by her in the hotel room because, at any moment, Hunter is going to walk through that door and see me standing here with his almost-naked wife and normally, that wouldn’t freak me out, but after how bizarre this whole fucking week has been, being alone with Isabel has a whole new significance.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

Finally, I meet her gaze to see that she’s just as unnerved as I am. “I’m okay. Are you okay?”

Instead of saying yes, she shrugs. “We should talk about this.”

“About what?” I ask, even though I know full well what we’re supposed to be talking about.

“About what he said this morning.”

“I told him no, Isabel. You told him no. I know Hunter can be relentless, but this is up to us, and as long as you say no, that won’t change.”

Her lips press into a thin line as a look of uncertainty colors her features. Oh no, Isabel. Please don’t waver. Please, please, please.

“What’s that look for?” I ask, feeling myself deflate.

“Are you saying no because you don’t want to…or because you think it’s wrong?”

Holy shit. If the earth could just swallow me up right now, that’d be fucking great.

“Does it matter?” I ask.

“Yes. It matters to me.” She’s so perfect, so gracious and delicate and wonderful, and it would be too easy for a man to take advantage of Isabel, a thought that makes me see red, because she’s the last person on earth to deserve that. So admitting to her how badly I want her feels just as harmful as lying and saying that I don’t.

But something is calling me to tell her how I really feel, to make sure she knows that my resistance to this ridiculous idea has nothing to do with her.

Hunter put me in this position, and I hate him for it.

“Isabel, I’m saying no to Hunter because jeopardizing our friendship and your marriage is the last thing on earth I’d ever want to do.” I take a big inhale, sealing my fate to hell as I continue, “But if you’re asking if I’d ever want what he’s asking for, the answer is unconditionally, enthusiastically…yes.”

Her breath hitches as she gazes up at me, wide green eyes and gentle lips parted. I shouldn’t be this close to her or even talking to her like this, but Hunter did this. Hunter brought it up and forced us into this conversation.

“Really?” she whispers.

I take a small step forward until the knuckles of her hand holding up her towel are brushed up against my abs as I lean down until my mouth is closer to her ear. “Really.”

Maybe I’m more drunk than I thought. Because I would never do this. I would never do this. But I still have the image of her perfect body in my head, and I need her to know that I’m not going to agree to this, but it’s not because she doesn’t turn me on.

Drifting a hand to her lower back, pressing gently against the fabric of the towel, I pull her closer until the aching stiffness in my pants is wedged between us, so she can feel how true my words are.

It’s a violation. I know that. But again…it’s Hunter’s fault. He opened Pandora’s box and this relationship between Isabel and me was purely platonic and innocent until he flipped the lock open and unleashed it all, so now we’re swimming in evil, sexual tension and possibility.