Give Me More (Salacious Players’ Club)

Hunter

Drake, Isabel, and I are gathered around a table in the back of the Crescent City Kink Club in the middle of a rope bondage workshop. The instructor is a beautiful woman named Silla, tall and slender with a soft voice and a beaming bright smile. It’s hard to focus on what she’s teaching us and the dozen other couples and groups here to learn when she levels those dazzling hazel eyes on us.

Drake is having the same problem. I can tell by the way his eyes cascade down her body, licking his lips as his gaze settles on the shimmering dark flesh busting out of her thin white bra.

“Will you two pay attention, please?” Isabel whispers.

Drake and I both chuckle, hiding our shameless smiles, as Silla instructs us to pick up the long black rope. Each of us holds a strand as she walks us through some basic knots. Isabel picks it up easily while Drake and I fumble, causing more unintentional knots than what we’re supposed to be creating.

Things between us have been surprisingly comfortable today. When they both came back from the gym this morning, they were wearing smiles and joking like they used to. They were both worried about nothing. It’s still us. This changes nothing.

I don’t want to rush things, but last night was so incredible that I can’t wait to do it again. I need to see those two together as badly as I need Isabel for myself. We haven’t even had sex today, which means I’m still a pent-up mess from last night.

“Now, I’d like for you to pick one person in your group to be the rigger and another to be the submissive.” And when Drake and I stare at her blankly, she continues with a playful grin. “The rigger will be the person doing the tying. The submissive will be the one being tied up.”

We look in unison at Isabel, who immediately shakes her head.

“Not it,” she chirps. “I got tied up last time. I think one of you should try it tonight.”

“Well, Drake got to tie you up last time. Isn’t it my turn?” I ask.

“Nope. Why don’t you tie him up tonight?”

My cheeks heat with a flush as I widen my gaze at her. Is she doing this on purpose?

When I look at Drake, he looks a little too comfortable for my taste. “I don’t think we have much of a choice…unless you’re open to being the submissive tonight?” Then he actually fucking winks at me, and I have to force my face not to give away the way my insides are exploding.

“Nice try,” I mutter as I grab the rope.

“Come on. Be honest. You’ve always wanted to tie me up, haven’t you?”

“To shut you up, yes, I have.”

He chuckles just as Silla gives us our next instructions. “The submissive should be in as little clothing as possible, so the ropes lay against the skin to get the full effect. This is entirely up to you how much you choose to take off.”

Drake is grinning now, and I’m struggling to keep my composure. Why was this so easy last night? Why all of a sudden am I nervous as fuck, especially as I see Drake peel off his tight T-shirt, revealing his hairless chest and chiseled abs?

Damn, that construction job of his does him good.

Then, he unbuttons his pants with his bright blue eyes on my face, and I avert my gaze as he drops his jeans to the floor, so he’s standing in front of me in nothing but his tight black boxers, which leave nothing to the imagination.

“I’m ready, Sir,” he says in a teasing tone, and I bite back a laugh.

“Knock it off,” I snap.

“Now I’m going to show you a basic box tie,” she says, demonstrating on her partner how to place his forearms stacked behind him, which Drake does to mirror his actions. Isabel watches from the side with a mischievous smile on her face.

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.

“Need some help?” Silla asks as she approaches our table, clearly seeing me struggle.

“He’s a lost cause,” Drake jokes.

“Oh, surely not,” she replies as she moves around to where I’m fighting with this current knot. I should have paid more attention when she was demonstrating.

“It’s not that bad,” she says, taking over and trying to show me where I’ve messed up. All I can seem to focus on is that she’s touching him.

“I’m impressed you’re willing to learn, Mr. Scott. You’re just here to find an expert for your own club, right?”

“Yes,” I reply. “But I’d still like to know a little more before I work with someone.”

“And what exactly do you think of me?” she asks with a flirtatious smile.

“You’re very knowledgeable,” I reply.

She tugs tighter on the rope winding around Drake’s arms, and he lets out a grunt as she pulls on it. Then I watch as she runs her long nails over the muscles of his arms and back.

“The rope is going to leave beautiful marks on your skin…”

“Drake,” he replies, glancing back at her.

“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.

Stealing a glance at Isabel, I see a mirrored reaction on her face. Her lips are pressed together tightly as she stares at Silla, who still has her hands on Drake’s half-naked body.

If I know Drake, and I do, he’s not going to stop until he has her moaning his name in some private room at the club before the clock strikes midnight. But he wouldn’t do that now, would he?

We should really discuss some ground rules. I can’t have him banging some other girl and my wife in the same weekend. Isabel deserves better than that.

But am I really asking him to be exclusive…to us? And for how long? How many times am I going to let them sleep together? I really didn’t think this through.

“There,” Silla announces as she steps back to reveal her artwork. Drake’s forearms are bound behind his back, ropes looping around his large biceps, the cord pressing into his flesh, and I’ll be honest, it looks painful. But with the way he’s still flirting with Silla, I hope it hurts.

“Looks great,” Isabel replies with forced enthusiasm.

Without warning, she quickly unties everything she’s done, and then she looks at me. “Now that you’ve seen me do it, I want you to try again. Rope bondage is all about the connection between you and your submissive. Zone out together. He’s giving you his trust, and that’s a gift. So I want you to try this again, but this time…focus on the man you’re touching. Not the rope.”

“Umm…” I stammer. “We’re just friends.”

She gives me an unimpressed expression. “Good. Then this should be easy. I assume he already trusts you.”

Isabel clears her throat, and I brush off the nerves, squaring my shoulders and taking the rope from Silla.

“Don’t wrap him too tight. A little loss of circulation is expected, but if it gets too uncomfortable, talk to your rigger. And don’t stay in the bind for more than twenty minutes or you risk nerve damage. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Drake replies with a wink.

“When you’re done…I’ll be happy to give you a tour,” she says, smiling directly at him. My molars grind as I watch her gaze up into his eyes.

“That would be great!” Isabel chimes in, interrupting their little starry-eyed connection. Silla fakes a smile in my wife’s direction, before excusing herself to help the other tables.

Then, I heave a sigh as I attempt the harness again, trying to shut off every voice in my head. As the rope drapes over Drake’s shoulders, I chance a look in his direction, our eyes meeting in a heated connection. With a cool expression, I pull the cord a little tighter, and he lets out a nearly silent grunt, still staring at me.

Then with another tug and his chest surrounded by black knots, the air leaves his lungs in a satisfied exhalation. He submits to the binding with a lazy sublime look on his face.

When I’ve finished, Drake appears almost sleepy, and I notice my binds are tighter than Silla’s. I step back and stand next to Isabel as we assess my work.

“It looks so good,” she mutters quietly.

It does. It looks so fucking good.

“Someone gonna untie me?” Drake asks after a moment, and I shake myself out of the hypnosis I’m suddenly under. What the fuck has gotten into me?

“I should leave you like that,” I grumble before walking away. I don’t have the patience to try and keep calm right now, and as badly as I want to tell him what a jerk he is for flirting with Silla right in front of us, I have no place telling Drake what to do. I know that, and yet…I want to. I want to dominate him, and that’s a new feeling I’m not quite sure what to do with at this point.

With a laugh, he calls after me. “What did I do?” But I don’t answer. I leave Isabel to untie him while I head to the bar for a drink.