Give Me More (Salacious Players Club, #3)

by Sara Cate

For my readers who enjoy good smut without shame.

Even if she is only twenty and inexperienced, Isabel has a sexy curiosity that I love. She loves sex, but I try to keep things vanilla for her since she’s still so young.

Just as their lips are about to meet, I’m pulled from the display by a soft voice announcing, “I want to be in a threesome.” “Yes!” Garrett exclaims as I gawk at my sweet, innocent girlfriend, who just told all of my friends that her kinky desire is a ménage à trois. “See!” “Isabel!” I stammer.

They can joke about secret desires all they want, but none of them will ever truly know how agonizing it is to keep yours in forever because mine will never, ever come out. I won’t let it.

I remember the exact thought that went through my head at that moment.” “Was it ‘who still goes to the library?’” “No. It was… ‘I wish I could get a girl like that.’” Leaning forward, I meet him halfway before our lips meet. “And somehow you got a girl like that.” When he sits back again, he’s wearing another serious expression. “Because I changed.” “No,” I argue. “Because I love you unconditionally.”

“And they didn’t wear you out?” she asks. “Isabel…you don’t think I can handle a couple twenty-three-year-olds?” “You’re getting up there in age. Can’t keep hanging with those sorority girls,” she replies with a sarcastic smile. “Oh, I could handle the whole sorority.” She laughs. “I’m sure you could, Drake.”

“You two,” he calls to me and Drake. “Us?” I ask, pointing to my own chest. “Yes. You two would be perfect for my next demonstration. Would you like to come up here and try this next one together?” “I’m not—” Drake starts, but the man cuts him off. “I won’t touch her. Only you.” Drake stiffens behind me.

The crowd applauds, and I think it’s over, a feeling of relief washing over me. But Maxwell doesn’t show us how to take it off, not yet. “This harness is great for different positions of domination. Simple and effective.” Then, he looks at Drake as he says, “Take her by the front of the harness and pull her toward you.”

Drake spins me so my back is to him, and once again, I think we’ve reached the end of the demonstration, and I’m only moments away from taking this rope off and being able to put my dress back on. Wrong again. “One last position,” he says, and I glance up at Maxwell as he tells Drake, “bend her over.”

My mouth goes dry. Because somewhere in the room, I feel Hunter’s eyes watching us. I scan the room again, but I don’t see him. I feel him, though. He’s out there. He can see me exposed and tied up with his best friend, and my heart pounds wildly in my chest at the thought.

“You know I love my nightly soaks. Besides, I wanted to give you a few minutes to talk to him. Is he okay?” “He’s fine. Why are you two making a big deal out of this?” I ask. She sits up a little taller. “You’re not mad?” I shake my head. “Not at all. If anything…” I say, letting my hand skate over her cheek and down the moist skin of her neck. She hums in response. “That whole thing got me a little turned on.”

And when he slammed his stiff erection against my wife, the gasp that came out of her mouth made my already hard cock leak from the tip. I didn’t want them to stop. I wanted him to do it again.

And somewhere in the back of my mind, I know the reason I let her cry out is because I want him to hear it. Not because I’m showing off but because, in some way, I feel like he should be involved too. He always is, where she and I are concerned.

“What? Why? Are you struggling⁠—” “No,” I snap, cutting her off. “I make every payment on time, but these assholes decided they want to turn my apartment building into a parking garage.” “Oh my God!” “Yeah. So, I have until the end of the month to get out.” “Can they do that?” she asks, her hand over her chest. Oh, sweet, naive little Isabel. So pure she can’t even wrap her head around how dickheads work. I love that about her. “Apparently.” “So, what are you going to do?” “Probably going to have to catch a flight home from Austin. I need to find a new place to live.”

Isabel laughs at something Drake says, and I lean back in my chair, watching them. God, I want this so bad. Somehow in the past twenty-four hours, I’ve grown obsessed with this idea.

She’s staring at me with those sweet green eyes, brows raised and a gentle smile on her lips. And I can’t help myself. I’ve lost my fucking mind because if I don’t get this out now, I might fucking lose it. “Do you know what cuckolding is?” I ask, and she freezes, her face stuck with the same waiting expression she wore after asking me about brunch. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Drake replies when Isabel doesn’t. “Cuckolding. It’s a kink. Isabel, do you know what it means?” I ask, my eyes not leaving her.

“Yeah, isn’t that…like being cheated on or something?” “Why are you asking about that?” Drake interjects. His knuckles are visibly tighter around his mug. “It’s not quite cheating because everything is consensual. Some people just like seeing their partner with someone else,” I explain. She’s fidgeting uncomfortably when she gazes back up at me. “Oh. Okay. Why do you ask?” Here goes nothing. “I think I’d like that.”

“Baby, I’m sorry. It was just…” “You don’t want me anymore,” she replies, tears filling her eyes. My face falls and my blood runs cold. “Isabel Scott, don’t you say that. Of course, I want you. I will always fucking want you.” “Then, why would you want me to be with someone else?”

don’t know,” I reply, the tone of my voice growing louder as I throw my hands up. “I wish I did! All I know is that seeing you on stage with Drake, seeing him…touch you…it did something to me.” “Oh God,” she wails, dropping her face to her hands. “This is about that night. Of course it is! It meant nothing⁠—” “I know it meant nothing,” I say. “That’s my point, baby. The thought of it being more than nothing…turns me on.”

Seeing Isabel cry feels like a knife to my heart. She waits with those tear-soaked irises aimed at me, and I owe her as much of an answer as I can find.

My patience runs out as I mutter in his direction, “I know you’re testing me.” “I’m not testing you,” he replies plainly. “Yes, you are, and I don’t blame you, but⁠—” “Drake, I’m not fucking testing you,” he barks in response. My eyes widen. “So, you’re telling me that was serious?” “Yes.” The cool confidence in his expression is infuriating. How can he be so calm about this? It makes me want to knock him right off his seat.

“You’re only involved,” he replies, leaning closer so no one else can overhear us. “Because my little fantasy involves watching someone with my wife, and you’re literally the only person on earth I would trust enough to do that.” “Do you hear yourself?” I reply in a low whisper, leaning closer. “You’re asking me to sleep with Isabel.” Then, point-blank with his stoic eyes focused on mine, he asks, “Do you want to?” And I’m rendered speechless.

“Maybe the reason my marriage is so sacred to you is because you’ve always been a part of it. And maybe what I’m asking you isn’t so crazy, after all.”

“Isabel, I’m saying no to Hunter because jeopardizing our friendship and your marriage is the last thing on earth I’d ever want to do.” I take a big inhale, sealing my fate to hell as I continue, “But if you’re asking if I’d ever want what he’s asking for, the answer is unconditionally, enthusiastically…yes.”

“Trial run…tonight,” I blurt out, the half-thought-out plan just slipping through my lips without a second thought. “What?” she asks. “At the club tonight, Isabel can go with me. You can watch—no sex,” I add, clearing that up real fast. “But we’ll see how it feels before we commit to anything else. I bet you anything just seeing her on my arm will have you changing your mind.” “What are you willing to bet that on?” he replies, staring back at me with a smug expression.

“If you keep your cool tonight, and you really still want it, then I’ll agree to it. But if you freak out at all, even a little, it’s off. Forever.” “Deal,” he replies. The room is bathed in silence as we stare at each other. The beer buzz is officially gone, so I can’t blame this on being drunk, but it doesn’t exactly clear things up. What the fuck did I just agree to?

“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.

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.

“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.

“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.”

“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.”

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.

As she turns to walk away from me, someone blocks her path. At first, I register it as Hunter, so I don’t react. But then I hear a stranger’s voice in a low, husky tone. “If he won’t go with you, I will.” The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and chills run down my spine. “No, thank you,” Isabel replies, trying to move around him, but he blocks her again. “Come on, sweetheart.” “She said no, motherfucker,” I growl.

I know how desperate I am to get her out of here. I can guarantee Hunter is even more so. So as much as I’d like to help him put these handsy guards in their place, my first objective is to get her the hell out of here. I grab Isabel by the hand and latch a fist on Hunter’s collar as I drag both of them toward the bright red exit sign.

With a scoff, I toss the menu down in front of him. Isabel is still in the shower, so she can’t hear us. If she could, I wouldn’t be so hard on him because she’s always trying to protect him or go easy on him, but right now, I’m done with his attitude. “All right, fine…” I mumble. “What?” “Deal’s off. If you’re going to keep brooding about it, then we can pretend I never said anything. Okay?”

I feel like a fiend, wanting more, needing more. I’ve never felt anything so visceral in all my life. The energy between them and the sight of my two favorite people on earth devouring each other has me wanting to explode. I love it so, so much.

“Spread your legs for him, baby,” I whisper. “Let him see how beautiful you are.”

just assumed that Hunter being his friend, and strictly wanting to do this because he wanted to watch, would make things easier if Drake said he couldn’t join in at all. We’re trying to avoid awkwardness, but Drake almost seems to…want Hunter involved.

I fumble through the instructions, messing up the rope placement in front of everyone around me. She’s not going too fast, and it’s not that complicated, but I can’t seem to think straight or function correctly as I touch my best friend’s bare chest and back. I’m as straight as they come, so why the hell is there swelling in my pants? It’s making it hard to focus.

“Drake,” she echoes in a sultry tone. Then she moves around to his front. “And what do you think? Should I come visit your club sometime?” “Oh definitely. I’d be happy to give you a personal tour.” “I’d love that,” she says, and my jaw clenches. Why the fuck must he flirt with everyone? I literally watched him with his head between my wife’s legs last night, but seeing this other woman fawn over him has my blood boiling.

My fingers run over the divots in my arms, where the rope was squeezing tightly against my muscles. It was painful, but in a strangely satisfying way. I almost wanted them tighter. I liked feeling restrained and at Hunter’s mercy. I loved being the center of his attention and so connected to every one of his movements that I could just lose myself in the rope in his hands.

Hunter loosens his tie and then rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. Chin lifted, he watches me through his thick lashes as he says his next words as a command. “Dance with my wife.”

I’ve known this beautiful woman for ten years. I’ve had her in my life almost every single day, and while I admired her for every moment of it, I never looked at her like this, never once expecting we’d get here, and I’d want it so goddamn bad.

After a few strokes, she starts to look anxious, as if she wants to do something else. Finally, she turns her head and glances over her shoulder at her husband sitting in the chair. “You know what to do, baby,” he says, and my heart starts to beat harder. Without hesitation, she lowers to the floor before me, barely coming up to my dick when she’s on her knees, so she has to reach.

When she drags me into her mouth, welcoming me into the warmth of her throat, I make the mistake of looking up. And I find him not watching Isabel, but watching me. Our eyes meet for a long-drawn-out moment, and I notice the way he forces himself to swallow, then bites his bottom lip.

My blood is pumping loud in my ears as I bathe in his wanton gaze. And I imagine for a moment that it’s not just this experience he wants but me. And when he finally mumbles a guttural, “Fuck her,” I swear it’s not only Isabel I’m eagerly sinking into.

“You can be rough with her,” Hunter says from his place across the room. “She likes it.”

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.

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.

“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.”