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Prologue
Seven Years Ago
Hunter
“So,I had a fistful of her hair in my hand, and we were both in the moment when I looked her right in the eye and said, ‘Suck my cock like a good little girl.’ The next thing I knew, she reared back her fist and clocked me right in the face.”
My eyes widen in shock and I nearly choke on the whiskey that just passed through my lips. To say I didn’t expect those words to come out of my friend and co-worker’s mouth would be an understatement.
“Damn!” I reply to Emerson, setting my glass back down on the table.
Next to me, Isabel bites her lip as she tries to stifle her own laugh. This is only the third time I’ve brought her to our little Thursday night ‘bitch-about-work’ outings, and I can’t quite tell how she feels about the vulgarity of my friends’ conversations.
She’s not even old enough to be in here, and even though we’ve been seeing each other for almost three years now, I don’t generally invite her out with the others much. She’s too…pure for this crowd.
Not including Drake, of course. He’s always around us.
Except for right now, since he’s currently throwing darts with a group of girls who look like they’re celebrating someone’s birthday.
I snake my hand under the table to take Isabel’s, throwing her a tense smile as she blushes at me.
She laughs quietly at Emerson as he uses his cold glass like an ice pack against the bruise forming around his eye.
“I don’t think she liked that,” Maggie says. She too is watching Emerson with a playful grin on her face.
“You think?” Emerson replies with a wince. “I mean…I thought we were getting along great. She seemed kinky enough, and she definitely appeared into it, but I guess I was wrong. Not a fan of a little sexy degradation, apparently.”
It’s nevernotsurprising to me how candidly my friends talk about sex. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not a prude by any means, but I was raised by a somewhat conservative father—who touted righteousness in all things convenient to him, but never the things that weren’t. He did a piss-poor job of keeping a roof over our heads, which meant I saw and did some pretty shady shit back in the day just to stay alive.
But now? I’ve got a steady paying job, two promotions in the company in the last six months, and a girlfriend I plan to marry someday as long as I can keep my shit together.
So yeah, when our Thursday happy hours get raunchy, I get a little uneasy. Isabel isn’t like me and Drake. She comes from the side of town with white picket fences and purebred dogs. And I plan to keep her there. These guys getting all vulgar with their stories has me a little on edge, that’s all.
When my friends aren’t talking about sex, they’re complaining about the entertainment company we work for. Which is fine because sure, I hate it too, but I can’t lose this job. I don’t want to see the company go under, no matter how inevitable we all know it is. If I want to propose to Isabel, which I do, after she turns twenty-one, then I need to have enough put away for a down payment on a house and to get her the ring she deserves.
The others might hate the company and want to leave, but they don’t seem to understand just how much I’m relying on it to secure the rest of my life.
A chorus of giggles catches my attention from the other end of the bar, and I glance up to see Drake doing body shots with the birthday girl. I don’t know why, but I catch myself grinding my molars. I don’t know why I’m surprised. He’s been like this since we were teenagers.
It makes me wonder how long I’m going to be the only permanently attached guy in the group. Emerson and Garrett take full advantage of working parties and events and get laid on a regular basis. But something’s gotta give after a while, right?
I’m zoning out when Garrett’s rant catches my attention. “It’s bullshit that there isn’t a way to match people up by the kinky shit they like to do in the bedroom.”
Isabel joins in with the rest of the group as they laugh at his ridiculous ideas. I find myself squeezing her hand under the table. I want to ask her if she’s comfortable or if she wants to leave, but she seems okay. Even if she is only twenty and inexperienced, Isabel has a sexy curiosity that I love. She loves sex, but I try to keep things vanilla for her since she’s still so young.
“I’m fucking serious,” Garrett argues. “How nice would it be if you could meet up with someone who likes the same twisted shit you do? You wouldn’t have to hide it or be embarrassed by the kinks that get your panties wet.”
“You’re fucking crazy, Garrett,” I joke, and suddenly, the grip on my hand gets tighter. I glance her way as she furrows her brow at me as if I said something wrong.
“I am not,” Garrett replies, defending himself. “Who here doesn’t have some freaky bedroom desires you’ve always wanted to do but are too afraid to ask? I mean, obviously, Emerson isn’t afraid to ask.”
Emerson winces again, frowning at Garrett’s joke.
Garrett seems lost on a tangent, emphasizing this idea as if it could ever really work. But since Isabel frowned at me the last time I made fun of him, I keep my mouth shut.
“Out of all the shit you’ve done, what is the one thing you wish you could ask for?” he asks. “You know you have something. So let’s hear it.”
“You first,” Maggie replies with a smug grin. Maggie is the only woman in our company, but she’s not what you’d expect from a woman who keeps three horny men in line. She’s surprisingly timid and reserved, which explains why she’s pushing this question back on Garrett.
