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Looking down at her, I smile, then kiss her again on the top of the head. How the fuck did I get so lucky? Ten years and I still can’t believe it.
I just wish Drake could find someone like Isabel. I know I wasn’t imagining that sad look on his face, and it’s not the first time I’ve seen it. He pretends sleeping with random people every night is a dream, but if he could have what I have, I know he’d be happier.
Rule #4: Keep your friends close, and your husband’s best friend even closer.
Isabel
I might be a little biased,but I think Salacious Players’ Club has to be the best sex club in the world. Okay…I don’t have much to compare it to. Oranythingto compare it to. Truth be told, I’ve never stepped foot in another sex club.
Tonight will be my first.
Hence why I might be a tad bit nervous. It’s one thing to walk into the sex club your husband owns and his best friend built, but it’s very different walking into a strange club, where you don’t know a soul.
At least I’m walking in with two hot-as-hell men at my side. I shouldn’t be so anxious.
But suddenly I’m reminded of the first time Hunter brought up the idea of opening a sex club with his business partners, and the fact that I thought it was a crazy idea. A nightclub is one thing. Hell, even a strip club would be a stretch, but a full-on sex club? I guess I never really saw myself as a sex club owner’s wife, but I knew the moment I fell in love with Hunter that I was in for a wild ride.
A quiet, yoga-loving book nerd with accountants for parents is suddenly in marital possession of the freakiest establishment in Briar Point. I was never cut out for straight-laced anyway.
“You’re shaking,” Hunter whispers in my ear as we pass through the front doors of Fire Palace, the seven-year-old kink club in downtown Phoenix. It’s more discreet than Salacious, almost like a speakeasy with a downstairs entrance, under a seemingly normal bar. It was so quiet on the street outside that I thought we were in the wrong place, but once we pass through the door, I see why.
Fire Palace isn’t a loud dance club and I can’t hear sex anywhere. Even at our club, if you listen hard enough, you can hear the soft hum of sex in the background. I mean…it’s happening in almost every room of the building. Drake could only make the rooms so soundproof. Not to mention…some of themaren’tsoundproof on purpose.
As we stride up to the hostess stand, a beautiful blond man with hair longer than Drake’s and blue eyes focused directly on him, I smile and try to hide behind the two men.
“Hunter Scott. I’m here to see Mirabel Santos.”
“Oh, yes, Mr. Scott. She told me you were coming.” The man reaches under the counter and pulls out a key. It’s not a keycard like we have. This is a real key and it’s hanging on a black keychain that reminds me of the kind old hotels used to use.
“Fire Palace is organized by rooms to ensure maximum privacy and safety. She’s informed me to give you a key to a VIP suite where she will meet with you in promptly one hour. You are welcome to use the suite…” his eyes dance between the three of our faces, and my eyes widen when I realize what he’s implying, “however you’d like until she can meet with you.”
Drake stifles a laugh. “Isn’t there a bar I could wait at?”
“We don’t serve alcohol, I’m afraid, but there is a lounge upstairs that might quench your thirst.”
Wow, do we sound this uptight at our club?
“Are we not able to look around? Isn’t there a place where people…mingle?” Hunter asks.
“Mingle? We have group activities on Thursday and Saturday nights from—"
“Never mind,” Hunter interjects, grabbing the key from the man. “You have water or something in the rooms for my wife, right?”
He seems tense, so I gently squeeze his arm against my body to try and calm him. It’s too early for him to lose his temper and Hunter has a bit of a short fuse.
“Yes, sir.”
“And please tell Ms. Santos that we do not need an hour. We’re here to see the Shibari demonstration at ten, so I’d appreciate it if she wouldn’t keep us waiting in our…room.”
The man behind the counter looks uncomfortable. “Yes, sir.”
“Let’s go,” he grumbles, pulling me to the door.
“I guess I’ll be upstairs at the bar,” Drake says, moving toward the stairs that lead to the street, and I feel a twinge of disappointment at seeing him leave, alone.
“Come on, Drake. You don’t want to miss the demonstration.”
“Come with you…into your sex room?”
