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Then I hear my husband’s low growling command, “Get your ass upstairs.”
My belly warms and my thighs clench together. I know that tone, and I know what it means when he talks like that. With a gulp, I climb out of bed and peek out through the door.
I almost let out an audible gasp at the sight. They are fused at the lips, Drake grinding Hunter into the wall midway up the stairs. There’s a tussle, and then Hunter gains control. Flipping Drake around, he bends him over on the stairs, rutting against his backside, and Drake lets out a painful sounding groan.
“Go to the guest room…now,” Hunter growls. “Get yourself ready for me.”
Then he shoves Drake away as they both continue their walk up the stairs. I don’t know why, but something about this doesn’t involve me and I don’t think I want it to. In a silent rush, I run back to my bed and collapse against the pillow, closing my eyes and feigning sleep, just as Hunter walks into the room.
His footsteps pause at the door, and he stalls there for a moment.Please don’t wake me up, I silently pray.Just be with him alone.
It’s strange how badly I want my husband to sleep with someone else without me. But the idea of him and Drake together appeals to me so much more than the idea of being involved. Not every time, of course, but right now…I feel as if this could be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. This could be the moment everything shifts. Hunter will finally accept this about himself, and with that, accept Drake fully into our relationship—where he belongs.
As Hunter steps closer to me, I force myself to look asleep. Eyes closed. Breathing even. Face relaxed.
Please don’t wake me up. Please don’t wake me up.
He leans down and presses his lips to my forehead. “I love you,” he whispers. Then he turns off the bedside lamp and quietly disappears from the room.
My heart is hammering in my chest. I wait a few moments before opening my eyes. The room is dark and Hunter is gone. Down the hall, I hear more muffled voices, but I can’t make out what they’re saying.
As quiet as I can, I get out of bed and creep down the hall toward the guest room. Stopping outside the door, I listen.
“I need you,” Hunter mumbles quietly.
“Then what, Hunt?”
“What do you mean then what? Since when are you worried about what happens after sex?”
Drake sighs. “Since I starting fucking your wife. Since you kissed me in a dark club. Suddenly, it fucking matters a hell of a lot.”
It’s quiet for a while, and I close my eyes, willing them to get past this. To finally talk about it. Get over whatever is keeping all of us from the life we truly deserve—together. And part of me really wants to burst in there and tell them exactly what they need to do to get over it, but I can’t. They need to do this themselves. Hunter needs to prove to Drake that he’s not letting his father’s voice stop him anymore. And Drake needs to prove he’s ready to commit.
When it’s quiet for so long I get curious, I carefully peek around the corner, catching a glimpse of them lying on the bed together. They are naked, Hunter stretched out on Drake’s body, perched on his arms as he stares down at him.
“What do you want me to say?” Hunter whispers.
Another long, tense silence stretches in the darkness. Finally, Drake says in a low, husky whisper, “Nothing. Just fuck me.”
I almost let out a whimper at the sound, my body growing hotter by the second. I clamp my hand over my mouth as I listen to them. Their groans, curses, gasps, and grunts. As much as I want them to talk it out, this is too hot to stop.
I peek my head back into the room and watch in the dim moonlight as Hunter crawls down Drake’s body and eases Drake’s cock down his own throat. Drake lets out a deep guttural sound as he clamps a hand around Hunter’s black curls and thrusts his hips upward until I hear my husband gagging.
Dipping back into the hallway, I press my back against the wall as I listen to them. It’s nothing like I’ve ever heard before, and my body is on fire with arousal from the sound. I can’t believe myself as I lower my hand to my cotton panties, slipping my fingers inside to touch myself, if only to ease some of the pain from this acute need.
With the other hand clamped around my mouth, I draw circles around my clit as I listen to the filthy noises of Hunter’s wet mouth around Drake’s cock.
When I hear the bed creak with their movement, I peek in again. Again, it sounds more like a struggle than sex, grunting and movement and a fight for control. Hunter is lying on Drake again, the moonlight catching the blond in his hair as it’s fanned out around him. Kneeling between his spread legs, Hunter opens a small bottle and everything is quiet for a moment until I hear Drake moan.
“You like that?” Hunter whispers.
“More,” Drake replies.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.”
“More, Hunter.”
I can hardly breathe. My skin is burning hot as I listen to whatever it is they’re doing. I assume by the way Hunter is kneeling between Drake’s legs that he’s prepping him, and the idea of something so intimate, so…new for him, is driving me wild.
