Give Me More (Salacious Players Club #3) (56)

With his thick erection pressed up against my hip, a flash of heat is shot to my belly every time he grinds it on me. And although I said we’d only kiss, I can’t take it anymore. It feels like torture to do this to him, especially after what Hunter did to him tonight.

So I rub the thick mound through his shorts and he lets out a heavy groan into my neck. He doesn’t ask me to, but I know he wants me to touch it, so I reach under the elastic band and wrap my hand around his smooth, rock-hard length. It’s so hard it feels like it must hurt.

“Isn’t this against the rules?” he whispers.

“Fuck the rules,” I reply as I start to stroke him.

He groans loudly again, and I almost hope he wakes up Hunter. Let him see us like this. Let him see me finish what he started.

Drake’s hips jolt and shutter, and I know it won’t take him long.

“Get on top of me,” I whisper, rolling him so he’s between my legs. I quickly lift my shirt, exposing my breasts as I continue to work his length, moving faster and faster, reading his expression until I see he’s about to come. And I aim the head at my chest, letting him cover me with it.

“Oh, Isabel,” he grunts as he watches the cum paint my breasts. Then he just sits there for a moment, staring at the mess he’s made. Reaching out a hand, he massages one side, seemingly rubbing it into my skin.

“I love this,” he whispers. “Seeing you covered in my cum.” When he leans over me to plant a long kiss on my mouth, butterflies erupt in my stomach. “You really are the best. You know that?”

I don’t reply, but I give him a tight-lipped smile and kiss him back.

He reaches over to the side table to grab a handful of tissues and takes his time cleaning me up. When he’s done, he collapses next to me, pulling out the covers and burying us both beneath them. I curl up against his chest, and we lie like that for a while. Just when I think he’s asleep, he starts talking.

“Hunter doesn’t remember that green dress, but I do. And you looked at me.”

“I looked at you?”

“Yeah, you looked at me first,” he replies carefully, as if it’s hard to admit.

I remember that, and I’ve never told Hunter that. When he asks, I tell him I don’t remember him standing there staring at me, but I do remember part of that day. I remember Drake. But Drake never pursued me. He barely even looked at me once Hunter started talking to me.

Tears prick my eyes at the memory. But the next words out of Drake’s mouth cut me like a knife.

“I thought you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, but I would have never gone after you. Not because of Hunter, but because I didn’t go for girls like you.”

“Girls like me?” I ask, keeping my voice steady.

“Too good for me. Too smart and pretty and nice.”

“Drake,” I say, looking up at him with tears filling my lashes.

“I’m glad he did. I’m proud of him for doing right by you.”

I believe his words, but I see a pain behind his eyes as he whispers them. And I don’t know what to say. I want to tell him that I love him—that I’ve always loved him, just as much as I love Hunter and in the same way, but I’m not sure that admission would help anything right now.

“I know you think I’m just a man whore who never wants to settle down, but I’ve always wanted a wife like you, Isabel. And recently, I’ve realized that I just want you.”

Another tear rolls down the side of my face, landing on his arm. I’m still speechless as I gaze into his eyes. It’s clear there are no words left to say, so he kisses my forehead and closes his eyes, drifting off to sleep quickly as I lie there and let his drunk confessions seep in, committing them to memory, where I will keep them forever.





Rule #24: Wake up.





Hunter



My dreams are warped and restless. First, I’m feeling around the darkness for him, but my hands keep finding the wrong people. It’s all foreign flesh under my fingertips when all I want to find is the one my body knows by heart. Every time I think I’ve found him, he slips away.

Then, when I do get my hands on him in the pitch-black room, I feel the rope against his skin, but it’s wound around him too tight. It’s restricting his movement and his breathing, and I begin to panic as I struggle to find the end of the rope to untie him. He’s whispering my name, asking for me.

Hunter, is that you?

Hunter, get me out of this thing.

Hunter, help me.

But I can’t help him. No matter how much I try, I’m useless. The only thing holding me back is my own stupid pride and fear. Why didn’t I pay better attention during those workshops? Why was I always slipping away to do business? I should have been there.

Now Isabel is untying him and it’s not so dark anymore. She’s undoing his knots like it’s the simplest thing. Why couldn’t I do that? She’s staring at me with gentle impatience on her face—not anger because she understands it’s not my fault. But how long will she make this easy for me? How long will she allow me to fuck up before she’s had enough?

When she gets Drake untied, he goes to her. They cling to each other while I watch, but it’s not like before, when watching them got me excited. Now I just feel alone.