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After a few minutes of letting this new information sink in, giving myself enough time to check in with how this is all making me feel, I tap Drake’s chest.
“Okay…” I reply. “What happened after the blow job?”
“He barely put his cock away before ditching me there. On the fucking floor.”
Goddammit, Hunter. My emotionally-stunted husband can be the most affectionate, tender-hearted sap sometimes, but then other times…he’s so flighty and irrational, it makes me crazy.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. Tilting my head, I gaze up at Drake. I realize in this moment that Hunter and I are just a blip on the radar of Drake’s love life. Soon, he will be back to his old ways, living his life as freely as he wishes and doing it mostly alone.
His eyes find mine, and he touches my cheek, stroking softly before finally pulling my face up to his for a tender kiss. He’s playing with my heart when he does this, making me think I can have things that I know I can’t. Like him.
After a soft pressing of our lips, he pulls away and kisses the tip of my nose. “Don’t apologize, Iz. It’s not your fault.”
“I know, but I don’t want you fighting with him either. He needs to apologize, but I also think you have to remember…Hunter’s father was a cruel bigot who ingrained some nasty stuff in Hunter’s head. Obviously, he knows it’s all bullshit now, but those cruel voices are still there. He just has to overcome them, and he will.”
Suddenly, he lifts up and stares at me as if he’s surprised by something. “How are you not mad, Isabel? Your husband got a blow job from someone else—and don’t say it’s okay because you and I have been having sex because he’s there for that, and you know this is different.”
I stare up at him, searching for the words to describe how I’m feeling. I am a little jealous, but not because he cheated on me, but because I wasn’t involved.
Finally, I force out an answer that I hope makes sense. “It’s not cheating to me, Drake. Not when it’s you.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” he mutters, his drunkenness peeking through.
“None of this makes any sense…but also, beingwithyou like this makes more sense to me than the way we were before.”
“What?” His face contorts, as if trying to wrap his head around that notion actually hurts his brain. I let out a little laugh as I pull him down for a kiss.
“Never mind. My point is…if it had been anyone but you, I’d be out of my mind with anger and jealousy.”
He takes my lips again, shifting his weight, so he’s half on top of me and half beside me. “I know how you can get him back for it,” he whispers against my mouth. His hand is drifting toward my panties, but I quickly snatch his wrist.
“Just kiss me,” I say, placing his large hand against my lower back instead. And he does kiss me. He kisses me for so long I think he’s starting to sober up. We take our sweet time with each other, like teenagers making out for the first time, we lie there, exploring this new thing between us.
I briefly wonder as he massages my back and hums against my lips if he shows all the girls he’s with this much passion and attention. I want to be someone special to Drake. I don’t want to be just another girl he’s hooked up with.
With his thick erection pressed up against my hip, a flash of heat is shot to my belly every time he grinds it on me. And although I said we’d only kiss, I can’t take it anymore. It feels like torture to do this to him, especially after what Hunter did to him tonight.
So I rub the thick mound through his shorts and he lets out a heavy groan into my neck. He doesn’t ask me to, but I know he wants me to touch it, so I reach under the elastic band and wrap my hand around his smooth, rock-hard length. It’s so hard it feels like it must hurt.
“Isn’t this against the rules?” he whispers.
“Fuck the rules,” I reply as I start to stroke him.
He groans loudly again, and I almost hope he wakes up Hunter. Let him see us like this. Let him see me finish what he started.
Drake’s hips jolt and shutter, and I know it won’t take him long.
“Get on top of me,” I whisper, rolling him so he’s between my legs. I quickly lift my shirt, exposing my breasts as I continue to work his length, moving faster and faster, reading his expression until I see he’s about to come. And I aim the head at my chest, letting him cover me with it.
“Oh, Isabel,” he grunts as he watches the cum paint my breasts. Then he just sits there for a moment, staring at the mess he’s made. Reaching out a hand, he massages one side, seemingly rubbing it into my skin.
“I love this,” he whispers. “Seeing you covered in my cum.” When he leans over me to plant a long kiss on my mouth, butterflies erupt in my stomach. “You really are the best. You know that?”
I don’t reply, but I give him a tight-lipped smile and kiss him back.
He reaches over to the side table to grab a handful of tissues and takes his time cleaning me up. When he’s done, he collapses next to me, pulling out the covers and burying us both beneath them. I curl up against his chest, and we lie like that for a while. Just when I think he’s asleep, he starts talking.
“Hunter doesn’t remember that green dress, but I do. And you looked at me.”
