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.