Give Me More (Salacious Players Club #3) (64)

I just wish time would pass quickly, so we can all get over this awkwardness. Maybe I need to just fuck someone else. That would help get them out of my system. I’ve just been with them for so long now that they’ve literally fucked me senseless. I can find a girl at the club to help get Isabel out of my head.

But that thought quickly sours. I don’t want another woman. I want that petite, freckle-faced, fiery redhead with a dirty side and a sweet smile. Fuck.

I knew this was a bad idea. But I never would have thought I’d get so attached so fast. Of course, I never want to commit to a woman, but the first one I do want, I can’t have.

Maybe I’ll find a guy at the club then… Nope. For some reason, that thought feels even worse.

“Drake?” Hunter asks, pulling me from my deep thoughts. “Club or home?” We’re sitting at an intersection, and I have to quickly decide what I’m going to do. I know what I want and I know what I can have, and unfortunately, they’re not the same.

“Club,” I mutter with hardly any enthusiasm.





We’re at Salacious an hour before the meeting, so we head to the bar first. It’s good to be back. After seeing so many clubs, I find it such a relief to be back in ours. God, it’s good to be home.

“Hey, guys. Welcome back,” Geo, the bartender, says with a greeting and a wide smile.

“Thanks,” Hunter and I reply in unison. He orders a whiskey sour and I go with a beer. And we drink them in silence. I watch as Hunter pulls out his phone, responding to a text from Isabel, and I wince with the sudden envy that hits me.

I really need to get over this fast, because this shit sucks. While he texts, I glance around the main hall. It’s early, so it’s quiet, just a few regulars lingering around. Newbies won’t show up until it’s crowded and they have other bodies to hide among. That means I’ve either already slept with the people here or aren’t interested in them for one reason or another.

I nod toward Ronan Kade, the filthy rich silver fox sitting at a bartop with Eden. They’re having a casual conversation that doesn’t look much like flirting, but I’m fairly certain those two have either fucked so much they don’t even have to try anymore or have never fucked and are truly just friends. A phrase that makes me laugh a little now.

Hunter and I are just friends.

Isabel and I are just friends.

And look at how well that worked out.

Goddammit, brain, stop thinking about them. Move the fuck on.

The main floor is disappointing, so I turn back toward the bar. That’s when my gaze meets a familiar pair of green eyes, and I catch them staring at me with a certain twinkle, and I know what that means.

I pause, staring at Geo, who quickly diverts his attention once I’ve caught him checking me out. As he helps another bar patron, I let my eyes roam over him. Geo is attractive—very attractive—and I’m not sure why I haven’t noticed it before. He’s slender with an athletic figure and tan biceps that look smooth to the touch. I bet he surfs or runs, both visions of him working up a sweat outside give my groin a slight stirring. Nothing major, but it’s potential.

Suddenly, I’m drinking my beer faster, hoping it means he’ll come over to refill it. Finally, he does, and I swear he’s smiling at me differently now.

“Want another one?” he asks, taking the empty bottle from in front of me.

I lean forward, placing my forearms on the bar as I smile at him. With a wink, I reply, “Yes, please.” I feel like myself again.

Geo bites his lip in response. Then he turns toward the ice chest to grab my beer. Before he returns, I feel Hunter’s attention suddenly on me. He’s wearing a scrutinizing expression as he watches me take the cold bottle from Geo and lift it to my lips while holding his gaze.

“So, how was your trip?” Geo asks, leaning against the bar.

“Long,” I reply, and I swear I notice Hunter’s jaw clench in my periphery.

“See any good clubs?”

“Nothing as good as this one, but we saw some interesting places.”

“Oh yeah?” Geo asks with a flirtatious lift of his brow. “You’ll have to share some of the stories with me sometime. I’m intrigued.”

Hunter’s drink slams against the bar with a clunk, so loud I’m surprised his glass doesn’t break. “We have a meeting. Let’s go,” he barks as he stands from his seat.

And I almost get up. I almost follow him because that’s what I’ve always done. He leads, I follow. He says jump, and I say ‘how high.’ Or rather…he says ‘fuck my wife’ and I say ‘yes, sir.’ But that’s what got me in this situation. And now my heart is a fucking mess. My head is a mess. I’m not the same person I was before this trip, and I can’t risk losing their friendship even more than we already have. So I can’t just follow Hunter anymore.

For his own good, I keep my ass on this barstool, and I force a tough swallow. “I don’t need to go to the meeting. If you have any construction questions for me, we’ll meet up after. But you go. I’m gonna stay here.”

My eyes lift up to meet his and the intensity of his expression literally hurts. It’s a punch to the gut. Because I’m drawing that line back in the sand. And I swear it looks like he has something to say, but in true Hunter fashion, he swallows it down.