And I’m straight.
Isabel yawns as she straightens up and reaches for my hand. “Let’s go back to bed. We have a busy day tomorrow.”
Technically, today. We’re meeting with the owners of a sex club here in the city, and it’s the first of four clubs that we’ll tour on this trip to collaborate, share ideas, and discuss brand affiliation. I’m not just here to scout for Salacious, but this is really about the opportunity for expansion. Emerson is considering a second location, and buying out a pre-existing club would be easier.
“Come on, Red,” I whisper, placing Isabel under my arm and kissing the side of her neck. We wave goodnight to Drake, and just before I disappear down the hallway, I take one last glance backward at him, and I’m surprised to see his smile is gone, and he’s watching us leave with an expression of longing on his face.
As Izzy and I crawl back into bed, I ask her, “Does he seem okay to you?”
She laughs. “Is that a serious question?”
“Yeah. I just noticed him looking almost sad.”
“I’m sure he’s just tired. He looked fine while I was talking to him,” she replies, cuddling up on my chest.
“Yeah, that’s because he’s always smiling with you.”
She lifts her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” I reply. “Just that you two always seem to make each other laugh. But when no one was looking, he seemed a little down.”
“So why don’t you talk to him tomorrow?” she asks.
“Okay.” With that, I plant a kiss on her mouth and squeeze her tighter against my body. With her heart beating softly against my chest, I start to drift off. Her soft hair brushes against my arm and her delicate breath kisses my skin.
Looking down at her, I smile, then kiss her again on the top of the head. How the fuck did I get so lucky? Ten years and I still can’t believe it.
I just wish Drake could find someone like Isabel. I know I wasn’t imagining that sad look on his face, and it’s not the first time I’ve seen it. He pretends sleeping with random people every night is a dream, but if he could have what I have, I know he’d be happier.
Rule #4: Keep your friends close, and your husband’s best friend even closer.
Isabel
I might be a little biased, but I think Salacious Players’ Club has to be the best sex club in the world. Okay…I don’t have much to compare it to. Or anything to compare it to. Truth be told, I’ve never stepped foot in another sex club.
Tonight will be my first.
Hence why I might be a tad bit nervous. It’s one thing to walk into the sex club your husband owns and his best friend built, but it’s very different walking into a strange club, where you don’t know a soul.
At least I’m walking in with two hot-as-hell men at my side. I shouldn’t be so anxious.
But suddenly I’m reminded of the first time Hunter brought up the idea of opening a sex club with his business partners, and the fact that I thought it was a crazy idea. A nightclub is one thing. Hell, even a strip club would be a stretch, but a full-on sex club? I guess I never really saw myself as a sex club owner’s wife, but I knew the moment I fell in love with Hunter that I was in for a wild ride.
A quiet, yoga-loving book nerd with accountants for parents is suddenly in marital possession of the freakiest establishment in Briar Point. I was never cut out for straight-laced anyway.
“You’re shaking,” Hunter whispers in my ear as we pass through the front doors of Fire Palace, the seven-year-old kink club in downtown Phoenix. It’s more discreet than Salacious, almost like a speakeasy with a downstairs entrance, under a seemingly normal bar. It was so quiet on the street outside that I thought we were in the wrong place, but once we pass through the door, I see why.
Fire Palace isn’t a loud dance club and I can’t hear sex anywhere. Even at our club, if you listen hard enough, you can hear the soft hum of sex in the background. I mean…it’s happening in almost every room of the building. Drake could only make the rooms so soundproof. Not to mention…some of them aren’t soundproof on purpose.
As we stride up to the hostess stand, a beautiful blond man with hair longer than Drake’s and blue eyes focused directly on him, I smile and try to hide behind the two men.
“Hunter Scott. I’m here to see Mirabel Santos.”
“Oh, yes, Mr. Scott. She told me you were coming.” The man reaches under the counter and pulls out a key. It’s not a keycard like we have. This is a real key and it’s hanging on a black keychain that reminds me of the kind old hotels used to use.