Give Me More (Salacious Players Club #3) (40)

“Ah,” I reply, a crooked smirk on my face as I glance sideways at him. From this angle, I catch the glint of light in his dark brown irises, and I quickly look away, so I’m not caught staring.

“Yeah, I think she wants us to…talk.”

“I bet you were excited about that,” I joke.

He lets out a heavy sigh as the bartender places a bourbon on ice in front of him. “Ecstatic,” he mutters before taking a big sip.

“How are you feeling?” I ask. “About what happened.”

I turn to see his jaw click as he clenches his teeth. I almost feel bad for him because he really does hate talking about anything, but he literally brought this on himself. It’s a miracle in itself that he even had the nerve to ask for this in the first place.

“I’m feeling great, Drake. It was exactly what I wanted.”

Nodding my head, I face forward and stifle the strange mixture of disappointment and excitement I feel at hearing him say that. On one hand, I almost wanted him to say he didn’t like it. Then I would have no choice and things would go back to the way they were. And if he loved it, then I would likely have the opportunity to be with Isabel again, which would also make me happy.

I’ve never been more torn in my life.

“If you didn’t like it, then we don’t have to do it again—"

My head snaps in his direction. “Who said I didn’t like it?”

“You look awfully…conflicted about it. You bolted out of there like a marathon runner as soon as it was over. I just get the feeling that you’re not really into this.”

“I’m into it. I did like it. No…I fucking loved it. I only left because I didn’t want to feel like an intruder in your marriage.”

“Drake, I told you already…you’re not intruding. You’re never intruding.”

“I know, but I am—"

“No, you’re not.”

“Hunter—"

He turns, placing a firm hand on my shoulder, his fingers dangerously close to my neck, pressing in just enough to make my cock jump in my pants. Just once, I wish this fucker knew what he was doing to me when he did stuff like this. But he’s so fucking straight; he doesn’t see how touching my neck or breathing into my ear or gazing into my eyes while I fuck his wife can be dangerous for me. He’ll never see it.

I clench my molars as I look at him. There’s sincerity in those dark eyes, haunting me with how deep they are, as if I could lose myself in them.

“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying, Drake. We want you to stay. Next time, please…stay.”

My brow furrows as I glare at him. He wants me to stay to watch him have sex with Isabel? It doesn’t make any sense. I thought for sure he’d appreciate me leaving, so this is not the reaction I expected at all.

“Next time?” I ask, watching his expression.

His hand is still on my shoulder, his fingers still pressing into my neck, and he squeezes gently as he lets out a sigh. “Tell me you want to do that again.”

There’s something loaded in his request, something more I’m not totally grasping, but I’m too eager to answer his question before he thinks I’m hesitating and rescinds his offer. “I want to do it again,” I reply.

Finally, he pulls his hand away, and my shoulders deflate. I don’t let it show as I turn toward my drink and pick it up. He’s swirling what’s left of his bourbon in the ice-filled glass. “That wasn’t weird to you? Seeing me with her?”

“Strangely…no.”

“Or hearing me say how much I liked it. How much I liked her.”

He chuckles. “Stop trying to scare me away, Drake. It didn’t bother me.”

“I don’t get it, man. If I thought about another man touching her…” My fists clench just thinking about it.

“But you’re not just another man.”

“You know she and I talked about some rules today,” I say, glancing at him.

“She told me.”

“And we’re never going to do anything when you’re not around.”

“I know.”

He turns toward me again, but this time, his hand stays away from my shoulder. “Drake, it’s not about you being with her. It’s about me watching. That part didn’t bother you?”

I think it over for a moment, but it’s an easy answer. I’m not quite sure if he’s ready to hear it, though. Oh well…fuck it. “It didn’t bother me at all. I really fucking liked you watching.”

He swallows, his eyes staying on my face. “Good.”

It’s true. I loved him watching, but what I can’t say is that I wish he’d do more than watch. He’s definitely not ready for that. Because once he gets involved, then it’s not just a simple fantasy fulfilled anymore. Then it’s something else entirely.





Rule #18: The good ones always remember the coconuts.





Isabel



“Where are we?” I ask groggily as I wake up from a nap, stretched across the back seat, using Hunter’s sweatshirt as a makeshift pillow.

“Somewhere in Kentucky,” Drake replies. Hunter is behind the wheel, which is funny because he was definitely in the passenger seat when I fell asleep. I must have really been out of it. Sleeping with two men really takes it out of you, I guess.