Give Me More (Salacious Players’ Club)

Isabel

Everything in here is pink. It’s sort of genius, actually. Keeping the design feminine is very empowering. And for a club filled with horny, straight men, I love it.

Drake and I are lingering by the door as we wait in line to enter. I’m filled with anxious energy with my arm looped through his. If this works out tonight, whatever Drake has planned, is sure to be interesting. And if Hunter keeps his cool, then that means we’re doing this.

I’m going to have sex with Drake.

While my husband watches.

My belly tingles with heat and excitement every time I think about it. But I have no doubt Drake isn’t going to make this easy on Hunter. He’s going to do everything he can to trigger my husband into backing out of the deal. It’s like a sexy game of chicken, and I’m in the middle.

Hunter is already in the club. He came an hour early to meet with the owner, so just knowing that he’s somewhere in this building, ready to watch, has me on edge.

“You okay?” Drake whispers, and I smile up at him.

“Yep.”

When we reach the front, the woman takes our names, checks our reservation, goes over some rules, confiscates our phones, and ushers us inside. Based on the lobby, the inside is…not what I expected. For one thing, there are far more women here than men, it’s far too bright, and there are quite a few people walking around almost completely naked.

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.

My hands, which were glued to his chest a moment ago, relax and begin to roam, exploring the hard surface of his pecs before gliding upward to wrap around his neck, giving him even more access to my body as it curves eagerly against him.

When his hands lower, wandering over my ass and squeezing one whole cheek in the palm of his hand, heat strikes my core. And when he lowers his touch even farther, gathering up the back of my dress as his hands move, my heart beats even faster.

In his aroused hunger, he brings my dress up far enough to expose my ass and puts his palm against my flesh, squeezing again, this time with another low growl. With his body pressed to mine, I feel the erection in his pants, grinding against me like a promise. I ache to touch it.

Then, he pulls away from our kiss, both of us breathless with his hand still on my ass, his large fingers dangerously close to something else entirely. Our foreheads are pressed together as we both try to catch our breaths, eyes closed and tense.

His fingers squeeze again, this time nudging them closer to the warmth of my moist panties. And I gasp. Ever so subtly, he rubs the tip of his finger against the fabric, before pushing it aside and finding the sensitive folds underneath.

My eyes open as I stare up at him.

“Is this okay?” he whispers.

My cheeks are hot. My neck is hot. My chest and stomach and arms are all so hot I am nothing but a blazing inferno of desire and indecision.

Is this okay?

This is what we came to do, right? This is why we’re here, but then again, it’s not like Hunter can see that Drake’s finger is delicately prodding the entrance of my eager pussy.

And the fact that I do want this—I want it badly—doesn’t exactly make me feel better. It makes me feel worse.

“You’re so wet, Isabel,” he whispers, and I nearly melt to the floor. “Are you going to tell him how close I was? Are you going to tell him how I’m touching you right now? My hand up your dress. Playing with your pussy. Almost inside you.”

I whimper.

I know he’s asking me questions, but my brain isn’t working well enough to answer them. I don’t know. I don’t know anything right now. All I know is that a man, who is not my husband, is touching me and this is what Hunter wanted…

But Hunter wanted to watch. And right now, we’re in a dim corner, pressed intimately against the wall. Can he even see this? Panic starts to race up my spine.

This is wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, and I wasn’t supposed to want it this much.

Oh, God. What are we doing?

“Drake,” I whisper, about to push him from me, when I sense a figure in my periphery. I turn my head, my eyes landing on Hunter, standing a few feet away, staring at us. His chest is heaving and his mouth is closed tightly, and the sudden sensation that I’ve been caught washes over me.

Drake pulls his hand out from under my dress, taking a step back, just as my husband charges forward. Before I know what’s happening, the room flips upside down and I’m being hoisted over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” I shriek as Hunter carries me across the room. I can’t see where we’re going, only the back of his suit. Suddenly, it’s quieter than in the main room and a door closes behind us. We’re in a small room, but I don’t have a chance to get my bearings when he drops me on a counter and wraps his hand around my throat, pulling me toward him to kiss me hard on the mouth.

“Hunter,” I cry out against his lips.

“Take my cock out, Isabel.”

My hands are clenched around the lapels of his suit jacket, frozen in place. My mind is still in a frenzy, and while he doesn’t seem mad, I’m still in a state of shock and I just need to see his face to know for sure. So I push him away to look at him.

His eyes are wild, but not with anger. I’ve never seen him like this before, so overwhelmed with lust. The grip on my throat tightens as he pulls my face closer to his.

“Did he touch you?” he asks.

I nod.

His fingers tighten. “Did you like it?”

My heartbeat picks up speed as I nod again.

Pulling me even closer, he takes my bottom lip between his teeth, biting enough to make it hurt, and I whimper against his mouth.

“Then, be a good little slut and take out my cock, Isabel.”

Sudden arousal lances my belly, making me not just ready for it, but needy for it. I’m fumbling quickly with his belt, unfastening his pants in a daze, eagerly reaching into his boxers to hold his cock in my hand like it’s the only thing that will bring me comfort.

The moment his hard length is out, he lets go of my neck, yanks me by my legs to the edge of the counter and wedges himself between my legs, rubbing the head of his cock against my moist panties. It is rough and unhinged, and I want it so badly I’m feral for it. He drags my thong to the side and thrusts himself inside me with force, and I have to latch my arms around his neck to stay upright.

He slams into me again, lighting my body up like fireworks, and I let out a cry. “Harder.”

His heavy grunts are in my ear as he fucks me in this tiny, dim room. “That was so fucking hot, Red. Watching him touch you like that. I can feel how wet you were for him,” he mutters between savage grunts.

“Hunter,” I say, calling his name like an oath. “I’m yours.”

“Fuck right, you’re mine.” He groans. His thrusts pick up speed until I’m barely even touching the counter anymore, levitating in his arms until my body tenses in overwhelming pleasure. It hits me so hard I scream, my nails digging into his jacket and my thighs clenching around his waist.

A moment later, his orgasm follows, and he slams my body against his so tight, his hip bones are sure to bruise my legs. Then I feel his cock flinch inside me as he comes with a roar.

I’m held so tightly against him; I never want to let him go. The grip of his fingers on my legs is hard and aggressive, his way of making me feel safe and desired.

It’s a long time before we loosen our hold on each other, but when we finally pull our chests apart, I kiss his lips, needing to taste the familiarity of him.

“I love you,” I whisper against his mouth.

“Oh, Red.” Pulling away, he holds my jaw in his hands, gazing into my eyes. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Hunter, you could never hurt me. I like when you’re rough.”

“I know,” he replies, still buried inside me. “But I lost control. I’ve never felt like that before.”

“And that was just from watching me kiss him. Are you sure you want to watch me—’

“I’m sure,” he answers without hesitation. “More than ever before. I want this.”

Just hearing him say that makes it hard to breathe. He really wants me and Drake…to sleep together. This feels impossible and insane, but he’s so sure.

“Do you?” he asks. “Want this?”

My heart is still hammering in my chest, and it feels like it hasn’t stopped since Drake cornered me against the wall. I can still feel his lips against mine. He didn’t seem nervous anymore. He was confident and hungry for me, and it felt so right. I want that again.

And I realize, at this moment, that I’ve been feeling bad for how much I want Drake, but Hunter wants me to want him. He would never ask me to do something I didn’t want, so my desire is what makes it so much hotter for him.

So, with a bite of my bottom lip and my legs wrapped around his waist, I nod. “I do.”