Give Me More (Salacious Players Club #3) (23)

Unlike Salacious, where the public displays are kept strictly in the VIP and voyeur hall, that’s not the case here. There is a woman openly groping another woman…at the bar.

“Um…wow,” Drake mutters as he freezes two steps inside the club.

A feeling of disappointment washes over me. I really, really wanted to love this club, but even this is a little too openly sexual for me. Silently, I summon my inner Mia—the girl who doesn’t bat an eye at masturbating in public, since she literally does it every day—and I pull Drake farther into the club.

“Do you see him?” I ask, looking around without obviously searching for him.

“No, but I’m too distracted to see him anyway. This place is a little…in your face.”

At that moment, a completely topless woman approaches us with a tray balanced on one hand. “Welcome to Pink,” she says with a smile as if she’s the hostess at a Chili’s. “If you have any questions, feel free to ask. Any open table is yours, and I’ll be around to take your drink order.”

“Um, thanks,” Drake replies as he drags me to an open table. They are bar height with four chairs at each. He pulls out my chair and waits as I climb up, feeling far more uncomfortable than I wanted to. That’s when my eyes dance upward and I notice there’s a second floor I didn’t see before. At first, I thought it was just mirrors, but when I look again, I can faintly make out the lights on the other side. Which means they can see us from up there.

“He’s up there,” I mutter to Drake, and he quickly glances at the ceiling, noticing the two-way glass.

“Yep. I bet he is.”

After he takes a seat, the half-naked waitress comes back and we put in an order for two vodka tonics, both of us grateful for the alcohol. Drake is tense. I can tell. He keeps fidgeting with his hair, a telltale sign that he’s nervous.

“Relax,” I tell him after we get our drinks.

“I can’t,” he replies, squeezing the glass between his hands.

“Just act like you would if I was any other woman.”

When he laughs, I can’t help but smile. “What’s so funny?”

His sexy blue eyes land on my face, and my body starts to relax in his gaze. “Isabel, if I treated you like I treat other women, we’d be fucking by now.”

Well, okay, then. “Good point,” I mutter before taking a sip of my drink.

“How do we know he’s really watching?” he asks, glancing up at the mirrors again. “Can’t exactly text him.”

“He’s watching,” I reply. “This is Hunter we’re talking about. He’s never late and always shows up.”

“True,” he replies.

“So just stop thinking about him and try to relax.” Drake has so much confidence around women and I hate to see him so uptight and uncomfortable with me.

“You’re right,” he says, jumping out of his seat. When he swallows the distance between us, I tense up. “I’m just going to…stand close to you, okay?”

“You literally rubbed your erection on me today, Drake. I can handle you standing close.”

He doesn’t laugh at my joke, and the second he crowds me on my stool, he steps away again. “I can’t do this. It feels so wrong.”

Reaching out a hand, I set it on his, feeling the tremble under his skin. “Drake, just kiss me.”

“What?” he stammers, staring at me with a look of shock.

“Kiss me. I think it might make things feel more natural.”

His chest is heaving as he stares at me, his eyes leveled on my lips.

“You want to freak him out, and yet, the only one freaking out right now is you,” I add.

“I think I need to get out of here. I don’t like this place,” he replies, and I feel my shoulders deflate in disappointment. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Drake made a bet with Hunter, and those two don’t make bets they’re not willing to pay up for, but if Drake doesn’t get out of his head, then this is about to get so much more uncomfortable.

But he’s right. This club is terrible and not the right vibe at all.

“Okay, come on. Let’s go,” I say, standing and reaching a hand out toward him, which he takes, before I lead him toward the exit. But when I try to take the short way to the left, Drake nudges me to the right, around the bar, and I assume he just wants to see the far side of the room. The lights are a little dimmer here, and it’s not as congested with people.

I take one glance back up at the mirrors on the second level when I hear Drake whisper my name.

“Iz.”

I glance back at him quickly before his hands are on my waist and I’m being pressed into the pink wall. I gasp, my mouth open as I stare up at Drake, and he takes the opportunity to capture my lips in his. Then, he’s kissing me. Drake is kissing me, and not some awkward pressing of our lips, but a ravenous, overwhelming kiss.

A short murmur slips through before his tongue is in my mouth, not invading or forcing, but softly exploring. Our tongues glide together as he hums, a deep gravelly earthquake of sound that makes my knees weak and my panties wet.

Drake is so much taller than me so being crowded between him and the wall feels a lot like being swallowed up by him, and I love it. His hands are still frozen on my waist, but with every lap of our tongues, he squeezes, like he’s sending me a silent signal of desire.