Give Me More (Salacious Players’ Club)
Give Me More: Chapter 32

Drake

“Hey, I recognize that giant, sexy blond hunk.”

There’s something oddly familiar about the voice behind me as I walk through the lobby of the club. So I pause and spin to see the feisty and adorable, sable hair beauty from New Orleans.

“Silla?” I say with a smile, opening my arms for a hug.

She walks into my embrace and squeezes me tight around the middle. After pulling away, she cocks her head in my direction. “Let me guess—your boyfriend didn’t tell you he invited me.”

I laugh. “Okay, first of all…of course, he did. I just wasn’t expecting you today. And…he’s not my boyfriend.”

She winks. “Sure. The three of you had a good time in that room I rented.”

“You gave me the key,” I reply enthusiastically.

“I know. I know. I’m a good influence.”

I place an arm behind her back. “Come on. I’ll take you to the workshop space. We finished it this week.” Waving to the hostess, I guide Silla through the curtain into the main room and then off to the right hallway, where the back two rooms have been joined as one large room, something we can flip between rentable rooms and space for classes.

“Oh, very impressive,” Silla says with a smile as I show her the space. We erected a small stage at the front and enough space for tables, which is how it’s set up tonight. She walks up to the low platform to check out the ropes we hung for the demonstration.

“Look at you, Mr. Construction Man. So…have you been practicing Shibari with your boyfriend since our class?”

I blush. “Again, not my boyfriend. And no, we have not.”

“Oh, come on…” she whines, her head hanging back. “You guys were so good!”

With a laugh, I shake my head. “We weren’t that good.”

“Babe, I could watch him tie you up all day. That shit was hot. Or better yet,” she says, looking excited. “You tie him up.”

“I don’t think he would enjoy that,” I reply, leaning against one of the tables.

“Oh, he needs to be tied up,” she says with a laugh. I like Silla. It’s just easy being around her. It’s not often I’m in the company of people I’m not actively trying to fuck…or who aren’t trying to fuck me. Of course, she was at first, but the moment we established that I was sort of entangled, she let off.

“So…” she says in a light tone.

“So…?” I reply.

“So, did you end up losing…or did you end up gaining?”

My brow furrows quizzically as I stare at her. “I don’t follow.”

“Last time we talked, you were too afraid to get your sexy bits all tangled up with your friends because you were afraid of losing them, and I told you that you were just as likely to gain them. And you may not know this about me, but I’m very wise…”

My light chuckle echoes through the empty room as she smiles that big bright smile at me.

“Clearly,” I joke.

“So which one was it?”

My smile starts to wane as I think about it. Which one is it? I didn’t exactly lose them, but have I gained them? As I think back to everything that’s happened since I first met Silla, it’s a little daunting to believe.

“Oh…I know what that face means. Spill.”

It feels pointless putting up a fight, so I give in and I tell her everything. Crazy that this woman just walked in the club and I’ve known her for all of like two hours total, but she’s easy to talk to and I need someone to talk to about this stuff.

By the end, her eyes are wide, and she’s staring at me for a long time before finally saying something. “So…do you want to be with them? In a committed, poly relationship with both of them?”

“Yeah.” The answer slips out of my mouth easily. As easily as breathing. Because I do. And I thought the idea of committing would be daunting and scary, but with them, it’s not. It feels seamless. I’m not losing anything and gaining everything.

“Do you think she does?”

“Yeah,” I say, unable to hold back the slight grin that stretches across my face. Isabel and I have bonded in a way we can’t undo now. I need her in a way I can’t walk away from. I can’t go back.

“But does he?”

That answer doesn’t fall out of my mouth so easily. It’s more complicated with Hunter. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with me. It’s that he has so many more mountains to climb before he can rightfully claim that he wants both of us. And until he does, we’re stuck where we are.

“Okay…follow-up question. How long are you willing to wait for him to decide?”

“I don’t know,” I mutter.

“It sounds to me like he needs an ultimatum because, right now, you’re giving him everything he wants without asking for anything in return. One of you is going to have to make him decide because neither of you deserve to wait for someone to admit to loving you.”

Well, damn. The girl has a point.

And I wish it were that easy, but I’m too afraid that if we push Hunter, he’ll fly off. Like approaching a bird you’re trying to catch. Move too fast and it’s gone.

What would that mean for Isabel? It’s not exactly a risk I’m willing to take.

God, listen to me, trying to talk someone into a committed relationship. Who am I? Because I used to be a scoundrel. I used to only want to fuck, but now I want more. Because these two are the exception. They’ve always been the exception.

Noticing me deep in thought, Silla approaches me and places a hand on my arm. “I’m going to leave you with those big questions swirling around in that beautiful head of yours. But you know…if it doesn’t work out, we could always use you at the Crescent City club. Just a thought.”

I give her a tense smile and nod. “Thanks.”

With that, she heads toward the door. In the distance, I hear Hunter as he replaces her with a warm, business greeting. I hear them say my name, but I stay in the room alone for a few minutes.

I just need some more time to think.

Every Thursday night, the owners of the Salacious Players’ Club meet up at the bar for a little downtime, no business allowed. I always tag along, because…of course I do.

Tonight, I’m sitting between Hunter and Isabel at the table, staring at my beer with too many thoughts in my head. Everyone around me is laughing and smiling, and I hate that I’m not myself.

Across from me, I can feel Garrett’s fiancée, Mia, staring at me in concern. After she and I got over the awkwardness of replaceing out Garrett used my name to catfish her on her cam girl app, thus making our first encounter a little…tense, we’ve actually become pretty good friends. Mostly because she’s become the resident crazy-idea girl at the club. Which means I’m the first person she comes to when she has an idea she needs brought to life.

Drake, can we put a hot tub in the VIP room?

Drake, can you make one of the rooms look like an outdoor hiking trail?

Drake, can you build me rafters to hang from so I can masturbate in midair?

She’s fucking crazy, but I like her. Except for right now, because she looks like she’s reading my mind, and I don’t like that.

Normally, I’d be at the bar, lingering around any single females who look like they need company, but, of course, I can’t do that tonight. And I can’t tell anyone why.

“Everything all right, Drake?” Garrett asks from across the table. His arm is draped around Mia’s shoulders as she sips on her fruity red drink. “You’re not usually sitting with us for this long.” He smiles as he makes a joke, and I shrug it off with a forced laugh.

But what the fuck do I say? I may or may not be exclusively fucking my best friend and his wife. Although not really exclusive because we’re just not talking about it.

Yeah…that response just rolls off the tongue.

“Guess I’m just not in the mood tonight,” I reply, which makes not only him laugh but the others around us. Everyone except for Maggie, who’s too engrossed in her phone to care.

Well, her and the couple sitting next to me, who are starting to look a bit too uncomfortable to join in the fun.

“Drake not in the mood?” Garrett laughs. “I call bullshit. My guess is you’re seeing someone.”

“A little birdie told me someone had a date with Geo last week,” Charlie chimes in from the end of the table. She’s wearing a cheeky smile as she leans on her elbows.

“Oooh,” Mia replies.

Dammit. Now they’re all looking at me.

“It was one date,” I reply.

“Uh-huh…” Garrett adds.

I catch Hunter in my periphery and he’s squeezing his glass so hard in his hand, it looks like he might shatter it.

“You two are being awfully quiet. What do you know?” Garrett asks, and Isabel replies with a shy smile and a shoulder shrug.

“We don’t know anything,” she says, and suddenly, I realize just how awkward all of this is, and everyone can tell. We might as well be wearing giant something is up signs.

Now everyone is staring, but with crooked brows and scrutinizing eyes. There’s a part of me that wants to just blurt out this confession inside me, but I can’t.

Honestly, why are we even keeping this secret? This is literally a group of people who have some of the kinkiest lives. Garrett’s fucking his stepsister. Emerson is in a very serious relationship with his son’s ex-girlfriend. Not one of them would even bat an eye if we told them we’re having dirty threesomes every night. Fuck, they probably assume we’ve been doing that this whole time. So why do I suddenly feel like a dirty secret? When the conversation finally changes and the squinting eyes shift away from me, I glance sideways at Hunter to replace him watching me. I clench my jaw before I toss back the rest of my drink.

I suddenly need to be away from here. So I don’t make an announcement as I set down my glass and rise from the table. Isabel watches me, though, with a look that cracks my tough exterior.

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” I say gently as she smiles at me.

Seriously, if anyone was paying attention and saw the way she was just staring at me, the cat would be way the fuck out of that bag. But they’re not and I’m still irritable, so I march with a scowl toward the restroom at the back of the bar.

The entire time I’m fuming…about what, I don’t even know. Silla’s words got into my head. Not to mention, Hunter and I fucked, like really fucked—twice—three days ago, but we’re just not talking about it. So yeah…I might be a little irritable now.

Yeah, yeah, yeah…maybe this is a taste of my own medicine. How many people have I fucked and avoided? Never called them, although they gave me their number. Blatantly flirted with someone else in front of them. Kept them waiting for a commitment I would never give them.

But I’m not just anybody to Hunter. I’m his best friend—which at this point sounds too trivial of a word for what we are. And what we did in the guest room that night was not a meaningless hookup. It can’t even be categorized as fucking, really. It was…God, I hate myself for admitting this, or even thinking it, but what we did that night…was making love.

I’ve never been so close to another person in my life and the sex we had was in another league—no, on another planet, and not even close to being the same thing I’ve done hundreds of times with countless strangers.

The only thing that could have made that night better would have been having Isabel there with us. Instead of lurking silently in the hallway, which is clearly where she was.

I’m washing my hands when Hunter inevitably walks in, like I knew he would. And just like I knew he would, he flips the lock on the public bathroom door, buying us at least a minute before someone starts banging to get in.

“That was uncomfortable…” he mumbles as he closes the distance between us. He reaches for me, but I pull away and his playful smile quickly fades. “What did I do?”

“How long are we going to do this, Hunter?”

“Do what?” he asks, which makes me even angrier. How dare he even act like that’s a question.

“This!” I snap. “This secret thing…this undefinable thing where we fuck each other and act like it’s nothing.”

“Oh, so you want to be done now? Then go ahead, Drake. Go pick up some chick at the bar, if that’s really what you want.”

My eyes roll as I turn away. “That’s not what I want.”

“Then what do you want?” he snaps, somehow taking the reins of this conversation as if I owe him something.

“I want to talk about what happened the other night. I want you to admit that you’re bisexual and that you’re okay with that.”

He scoffs, looking offended, as if I just accused him of being exactly what he is.

“I want you to tell me what the hell is going on, Hunter. If you want me to be with only you and Isabel, I will.”

“Really? You’ll be exclusive? No other people?”

An annoyed huff slips through my lips. “Yeah, believe it or not, but I can stop being such a man whore for you.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes, you did, but it’s okay. Because for our entire lives, I’ve followed you. I’ve stayed by your side, never gave anyone more of my time because that’s what I wanted. So, now that you’ve really got me…all of me, what are you going to do?”

His nostrils flare as he stares at me, looking both nervous and frustrated, too many demons inside him to let him be.

“You realize this is more complicated than that, right, Drake? Isabel and I are married. It’s not like we can just…”

I laugh. “Just what? Start fucking your best friend and expect him to commit only to you, without anything in return.”

“Drake, stop.”

“No. This is fucking bullshit. I get it. You don’t want me screwing other people and screwing your wife at the same time, but that doesn’t mean I belong to you either.” My blood is boiling, and I feel ready to explode. I feel myself getting cornered in a scenario that leaves me feeling as if I’m somehow wrong for being angry in the first place.

“Then tell me what to do,” he says, looking like he might surrender. And for a moment, I start to feel bad for him, my broken, scared friend. When Hunter struggles, he fights. I know this about him, but right now, what I need him to fight for is me.

I don’t answer for a minute because…I shouldn’t have to tell him. Isabel is so much better at this than me. She knows exactly what to say and how to get him to meet her halfway, but I don’t.

“Tell me what to do, Drake,” he says a little louder this time.

Looking down, I let the realization wash over me. I could give Hunter exact instructions and put the words in his mouth for him, but then what? He’s not going to change if I do it for him.

I hate what this means. It fucking kills me. But Silla was right. Hunter is living behind a wall, one that keeps him safe without being vulnerable. And until he comes out from behind that wall, he’s never going to make room for me in his life. Not like that.

I’ve gone from being his best friend to his fuck buddy.

There’s a bang on the door. If we’re not careful, we’re going to draw suspicion. So I unbolt the door as I stare at Hunter. He’s still waiting for an answer, but I have nothing for him. This part is on him.

“I don’t know,” I say as I open the door, and a man we don’t know passes me. “Just fix this.”

And with that, I leave the bathroom. Then, with a quick goodbye to the table—and a worried-looking Isabel—I leave the bar.

But it’s not far enough. Something tells me even getting a new apartment and a new job still wouldn’t be far enough to escape the damage we’ve done.