Give Me More (Salacious Players’ Club)

Hunter

I kissed Drake.

I kissed a man…my best friend—Drake.

I’m still lying in bed, replaying the events of last night, all the events. Like the moment I realized I didn’t want this temporary arrangement to be all that temporary. Because I want Drake to be with Isabel more. I want to share her.

Across the hall, Isabel is in the shower, and Drake escaped early this morning to the gym chain he has a membership to. Which leaves me here, alone, with my thoughts.

I really didn’t mean to use my best friend as an experiment, but there’s no one else I’d be willing to use to see if I have a taste for men. What’s strange is that I haven’t been attracted to another man in all my life. I can appreciate an attractive body and pretty face, but seeing a man naked has never interested me. The thought of fucking one has never whet my appetite before either.

But that kiss. That fucking kiss.

Maybe Drake is right. This week has been crazy and more sex-filled than even our day-to-day sex-club-owning lives are. Being over-sexed has just gotten to my head. That’s all.

When Isabel struts back into the room stark naked, and drying her hair with a towel, I let out a growl at the sight. It erases every thought in my head as the sight of tits and ass commonly do. See…perfectly straight.

As she passes by, I snatch her by the wrist. “Bring that beautiful ass over here.” I tug her onto my lap and she lets out a cute giggle as I kiss her neck.

“Not today, Mr. Scott.”

I peek my head up and stare at her. Fuck, what’s the date? The fifteenth…middle of the month. Dammit.

“Oh shit, your period started today, didn’t it?”

“Yep,” she replies with a grimace.

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay so far, but I know in a few hours, I’ll feel like chewed-up gum on the highway.”

“What do you need? Want me to get you some tea or soup or something?”

She cuddles against my lap. “No. But do you mind if I skip the club tonight? I think I’d rather spend the evening with Netflix and pizza.”

“Of course, baby.” I kiss her neck again, inhaling the familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo. Period sex doesn’t bother me, but Isabel gets pretty sick on the first day of her cycle. So for one day a month, I am her humble servant.

Okay, let’s be real. Every day of the month, I’m her humble servant, but more so between the fifteenth and the twentieth.

“What were you thinking about when I walked in? You looked like you have a lot on your mind.”

I let out a heavy sigh. I want there to never be any secrets between me and Isabel. If she’s going to be mad that I kissed someone else, I’d rather take her anger than keep it from her. So, I just let it out.

“I have to tell you something.”

She tenses, staring at me as she waits. So I don’t waste time and just come out with it. “I kissed Drake last night.”

She bolts up and stares at me with wide eyes. “What? When?”

“Around three in the morning, I think.” I’m wearing a grimace as I wait for her reaction.

“Can I ask why?”

“…an experiment,” I reply slowly.

“And how did that experiment go?” Her tone lingers on each word as if she’s being careful with them. It’s not anger in her voice but curiosity.

My head falls back, hitting the headboard. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t.”

“Okay, back up. What were you two doing before the kiss?”

“Just sitting in the kitchen talking. About what happened last night. He was all worried that he overstepped when he touched me during sex.”

“But you touched him, too,” she replies.

Oh, she noticed that? I wasn’t quite sure. It was all in the heat of the moment.

I don’t respond; I simply shrug.

“So, you told him it was okay…that he touched you during sex?”

“Yeah, I did, but he didn’t believe me. So I proved it.”

“By kissing him.”

“Yep.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, only chews the inside of her lip as she scrutinizes me.

“You’re not mad?”

She shakes her head. “Considering what I’ve done with him this week, it would be a little hypocritical of me.”

“This was different, Iz.”

“I know…but to be honest, I’m actually kind of glad you did.”

“Glad? Why?”

“Because…” Her word drags out and I can tell how nervous she is to express whatever it is she’s thinking.

“Just say it, babe. Whatever you’re thinking.”

“I’m just glad to see you exploring this…option.”

“You mean men?”

“I mean Drake.”

My eyes linger on her face for a moment while I quickly scan my memory for any instance in which I ever showed interest in my best friend, but I come up empty.

“I feel like I’m missing something,” I mumble.

She leans in, touching my cheek. “I’ve only been around you two for ten years and you’ve been together for twice that long, so maybe that’s why I see things you don’t.”

“Like what?”

She smiles. “Like the fact that Drake is head over heels for you.”

“What?” I laugh. Then I laugh some more because this is ridiculous. “Isabel, just because he’s into men doesn’t mean he wants every man.”

Her head tilts as she gives me a stern glare. “Hunter, I’m being serious. If you haven’t noticed, it’s probably because you’ve been around him so long, you’ve gotten used to it. But I see it. I’m sure everyone sees it.”

“We’re just friends…”

“Yeah, I know. But you can still be in love with your best friend.”

“In love?” I reply in shock. “We’re talking about the same Drake, right? The man sleeps with more people every year than there are days on the calendar. He has no interest in being tied down or matched up with anyone. Drake doesn’t fall in love, Isabel. Come on…”

She doesn’t bother arguing with me, but the expression on her face says enough. The tight-lipped grimace and soft eyes mean she’s just waiting for me to hear myself.

Wait a fucking minute…is she right? Drake has feelings for me? And that’s why he won’t settle down with anyone else?

I let out another long sigh. “And I fucking kissed him! Oh my God…” I groan.

“Yeah…”

“Fuck.”

“Which is why I asked…how did that little experiment go?”

She’s asking if I liked kissing him. If I would do it again.

This is all too much. It was just supposed to be a kinky fantasy fulfilled, and now I’m thinking about asking my wife to open our marriage to my best friend and then thinking about my best friend in a sexual way, and I don’t know which way is up at this point.

“Hunter?” she asks, when I don’t answer.

“I liked it,” I stammer. “I really fucking liked it, and I got hard as hell and I was kinda disappointed when it was over.”

She bites her bottom lip hard as she tries to stifle a smile.

“It was just a kiss,” I add.

“I know. But maybe…”

Oh God. I don’t like the mischievous look on her face. Can’t she tell this is all a little too much for me, right now?

“Maybe when you’re at the club tonight…you could see how you feel about more than just a kiss.”

“No,” I snap. “No. I can’t even think about that. Plus…what if he gets the wrong idea? I don’t want to hurt him.”

She’s staring at me again, as if she has all the answers, and let’s be real, she probably does. But I’m afraid to know what they are.

“Baby, I’m not sure what the wrong idea is. And I don’t think you do either.”

I don’t reply as I mull those words over in my head. Eventually, she crawls off my lap and fishes out the comfiest clothes in her suitcase, rolls her hair into a bun, and snatches the smutty romance novel off the side table to take with her out to the living room.

Meanwhile, I have to get ready to go to the club. Where I may or may not get to second base with my best friend.

Drake is being quiet again as we get out of the car. He didn’t say a word on the entire drive over, and I know it’s because of what happened last night. But even when things are tense between us, he’s usually a chatterbox. I guess this is just a different kind of tension.

The club we’re touring tonight is called Pitch, and no, it’s not a baseball-themed sex club. The name refers to the lighting. Most of the club is saturated in pitch-black darkness.

I’m meeting with a man named Mario, who is part owner. Like us, this club is owned by a team of people, and out of all of the clubs we’re touring this week, this is the one I’m most excited about. As we step inside, I notice the lobby is much like Salacious. Black curtains and a small space, where one woman stands ready to greet us.

“Welcome to Pitch. Are you members?”

I adjust my tie as I step up to her podium. “I have a meeting with Mario at ten.”

“Hunter,” a deep voice calls as a tall, handsome man appears through the black curtain. “I saw you coming in on the cameras.”

“Mario,” I reply, shaking his hand. Unlike some of the more uptight clubs we’ve been in, he’s friendly and a little casual, enough to settle some of my nerves.

“This must be your…partner?” he asks, reaching a hand toward Drake.

“Drake Neilson is a friend of mine. He’s head of construction at Salacious and has been touring clubs with me.”

“So nice to meet you, Drake,” Mario says, smiling at him with those bright white teeth, and I feel mine clench at the sight.

“Nice to meet you,” Drake replies with a little less enthusiasm than he usually does. Drake has always been a people person, so I can tell something is up with him today.

“Come with me, and I’ll give you guys a tour.”

I spare one cautious glance back at Drake before we follow Mario into the club. The expression he gives in return is unreadable and a little too cold for my taste.

“Pitch is separated into four main areas: the main floor with the bar and some tables and plenty of lighting to see who you’re talking to, and then we have three dark rooms.”

The first room we enter is clearly the one he just mentioned, and again…it reminds me of Salacious. There’s no stage or dance floor, and it’s not nearly as big as our main room, but the sudden reminder of our club has me feeling a surge of unexpected homesickness.

Instead of a multitude of doors off the main room, there are only three. Each is guarded by an employee, and although the music plays in here, I can tell it plays even louder in there.

Mario walks us over to the doors. Without opening them, he gestures to each one. “The first room is for those who identify as female, the second for those who identify as male, and the third is for…all.”

“And it’s completely dark in there?” Drake asks, peering curiously at the doors.

“Light enough that you can find your way around, but dark enough that you can rely on anonymity. When you’re in there, it’s liberating. You can touch anyone, be touched by anyone, or just bask in the vibe.”

Drake and I are just staring at the door in front of us, the one with two male icons on the center, my heart starting to race at the idea of what a room like that can hold.

Reading our hesitation, Mario adds, “It’s amazing how much you can see in the dark, about yourself, I mean.”

I force myself to swallow.

Mario kills the silence as he starts walking again, pulling us along with his conversation. “Now, you’re probably wondering about safety. All members are required to use protection, show a negative test every month, and pass a rigorous background check. There are bouncers in each room, equipped with night-vision goggles to ensure everything is consensual as well as emergency alarms within reach almost everywhere. Not to mention, our bar is alcohol-free. We take safety very seriously.”

“I see that,” I reply, but honesty, I was only partly listening. I’m still staring longingly at the rooms. I’m suddenly not in the mood to discuss work.