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Drake lets out a loud scoff and an uncomfortable laugh. “No, you wouldn’t.”
Isabel is tense, frozen in her seat as her eyes dance back and forth from my face to her hands.
“Yeah, I think I would,” I reply, staring at her. “Is that wrong?”
“It’s a form of humiliation,” Drake argues. “That’s not you at all.”
“Itcanbe a form of humiliation, yes. But it doesn’t have to be,” I reply.
“Why are you bringing this up?” she asks.
“Because I can’t stop thinking about it. And we own a sex club, where everyone gets to explore their fantasies, and I think I just found mine. What? Am I not allowed to express what I want?”
“You want me…to cheat on you?”
“Not cheat, baby. I want to watch you with someone else. That’s all.”
She laughs. “That’s all?”
Suddenly, Drake stands up, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor as he walks to the sink. “You’ve lost your damn mind, Hunt. I’m not kink-shaming anyone, but sharing your woman…that’s not exactly a kink. It’s just plain crazy.”
“Not if it’s with someone you trust,” I reply, and he freezes, his mug halfway to the sink.
The tension in the air grows thick as we drown in silence, and part of me wants to take it back. This was an insane idea, but it’s too late now.
Drake sets his mug down and slowly turns toward me. His brows are furrowed, pinched with a deep wrinkle between the two. He’s giving me a skeptical expression as if he’s trying to discern if I’m kidding or not.
I’m not.
There’s a long moment of silence, veryawkwardsilence, before he finally lets out a heavy breath. “I need a drink. I think I saw a bar on the way in. I’ll walk. You guys have fun in the city and I’ll meet up with you tonight.”
His heavy footsteps carry him across the hotel room before the door opens and closes slowly as he disappears in a rush. Feeling defeated, I melt into the chair and stare across the table at Isabel. It’s a long time before she speaks, her sweet voice gentle and polite.
“That was really awkward,” she murmurs.
I reply with a laugh. “Think so?”
“Why did you say that, Hunter?”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about it. I figured there might not have been a better time or place to bring it up, but—"
“Wait,” she stammers, leaning forward. “You’re being serious?”
“You don’t think I’m that bad at making jokes, do you?”
“Hunter!” she yelps, covering her mouth with her hand. “How can you ask that?”
When I reach for her, she bolts backward, standing from her chair as she stares down at me in shock. Seeing the horror on my wife’s face has me instantly regretting everything. I thought there was no harm in asking, but now I’m afraid there was a lot of harm in asking. What if this thing lives between us forever, implanting doubt and betrayal that she never truly sheds after I’ve asked her to fuck someone else?
“Baby, I’m sorry. It was just…”
“You don’t want me anymore,” she replies, tears filling her eyes.
My face falls and my blood runs cold. “Isabel Scott, don’t you say that. Of course, I want you. I will always fucking want you.”
“Then, why would you want me to be with someone else?”
“I don’t know,” I reply, the tone of my voice growing louder as I throw my hands up. “I wish I did! All I know is that seeing you on stage with Drake, seeing him…touch you…it did something to me.”
