Give Me More (Salacious Players Club #3) (39)

The craving to be in his arms is visceral. I need him, but I also don’t want to lose Drake’s tender touch either. I take one last kiss from Drake’s lips before I’m straddling Hunter. He takes my mouth hungrily as if he’s trying to kiss his friend’s taste from my lips. His grasp is fierce as he holds me, and I do the same, clawing at his neck, trying to deepen our embrace as I lower myself onto his hard length.

The moment he slides inside me, we groan in unison. Then, I rest there, holding him inside me as we devour each other’s mouths.

“I love you so fucking much,” he growls into our kiss.

“I love you,” I reply.

I want his pleasure, the comfort and familiarity of his touch, the sense of home and safety I feel when I’m in this man’s arms. I want Hunter inside my body and my soul because that is where he belongs. He is as much a part of me as my own heart is. And I know by the way he grips me tightly, staring ardently into my eyes with so much love, that he feels the same. Not a moment in our ten-year relationship have I ever felt an ounce of anything missing. Not love or attention or lust or desire. Hunter signed over his entire soul to me the day we got married, and I hold it dearly, like it’s my own.

“It was so hot watching him fuck you, Red,” he mumbles against my mouth as I slide up and down on his cock. His words light a fire inside me and I pick up speed. “I want him to see how good my girl is. How perfect this pussy is.”

I let out a moan as I slam down on his lap a little harder. His fingers dig into my hips as he moves me faster until I feel myself starting to rev up again, pleasure lighting its way up my spine.

Our lips barely leave each other’s as his cock starts to tremor and flinch inside me, and I scream through my second orgasm, grinding my hips hard against him to chase the rapture of another violent climax.

My bones feel like they’ve turned to mush by the time Hunter and I have caught our breaths. When I finally lift up, his eyes are grazing the room, and I turn to see what he’s looking at, but before it registers, I already know.

Drake is gone.





Rule #17: No one likes a lurker.





Drake



If they thought I was going to stick around for their heartfelt I love yous, they’re wrong. I need a minute to think. And a drink. Thank God for bars and drink limits. This place does it right.

I’m not mad. I’m not bitter or upset or jealous.

I’m just…confused. And to be honest, a little nervous. Because that was good. Very fucking good. Like the best I’ve ever had good. And I have a lot to compare it to. I’ve just never felt so much during sex like I felt with Isabel. Her hands on my face and the feel of her perfect body in my arms. I can’t remember the last time I’ve slept with someone and immediately wanted to sleep with them again.

I’d resigned myself to that lifestyle a long time ago. Like mother, like son. There was practically a revolving door on our house, and I saw so many men come and go, I stopped being surprised when I woke up to find yet another stranger drinking coffee in the kitchen when I’d get ready for school.

There were times I had the dumb sense to get attached to one or two of them. A few of them actually came back for an encore and I’d talk them into taking me out for burgers or letting me ride with them when they’d go pick up beer and smokes. Then, they’d disappear like the rest, and when I’d ask my mom when Hank or Steve or Brent were coming back, she’d laugh in my face. Give me some line about what a crappy lay they were.

So when Hunter met Isabel, I knew that he was waltzing right into the life he was meant to live and I was waltzing right into mine. He was the married life kind of guy. The one content with loving the same woman forever. Confident enough to know he’d always be enough for her. Bold enough to get attached to her without the fear of her walking out of his life.

And I can’t help but think about what Silla said before she gave me the room key. About being with them. That’s not really an option. We’re not like that. I could never insert myself into their relationship because before too long, the jealousy would drive Hunter crazy. I’m not sure it hasn’t already driven him crazy. I mean…he just watched me fuck his wife, but it was also so much more than that.

Isabel and I weren’t supposed to…connect so much. It wasn’t supposed to be that intimate. We should have just stuck to some basic carnal fucking, without all the sweet talk and touchy-feelies.

“Hey,” his familiar voice mutters as I feel him approaching to sit in the seat next to me at the bar. As he takes his seat, I glance at him for a quick moment, but he’s wearing that calm and collected expression he always has. Well, except for when he was sitting in that chair watching us. He was anything but calm. He looked downright feral.

“Hey,” I reply.

“You didn’t have to run,” he says, and I brush it off with a shrug.

“Didn’t want to intrude on your moment. I figured my part was done.”

“Your part? Drake…”

“You know what I mean, man. I’m fine. We’re cool, right?”

“We’re cool,” he replies as he waves down the bartender for a drink.

“Where’s Isabel?”

“Still in the room. She wanted me to come find you by myself.”