Hunter
“Oh, there’s a brunch place down the street that does mimosa flights,” Isabel says, staring down at her phone. Fresh out of the shower, with her wet hair cascading down her back, she’s curled up on one of the dining room chairs, scrolling through the best places to eat in Austin.
“That sounds good,” Drake replies groggily over his mug. “Coffee first, though.”
“I wonder if they’re still even doing brunch,” she adds.
It was the middle of the night when we finally pulled into the Austin hotel we’re staying at for the next two nights. This time we got an actual hotel, but this one is a suite, so we’re still in the same room, but not sharing spaces. It has a big living room and a giant window that overlooks the city.
The first thought to assault my mind when I open my eyes is that little idea I had before going to sleep last night. I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m obsessed, and until I say something to them, the idea is going to keep hounding me.
And as I watch them casually chatter back and forth about brunch and mimosas, the invasive thoughts about them together don’t ease up. If anything, they get worse.
Our plan today is to explore the city a little before hitting the club tonight. The club we’re seeing is another female-owned club, but the theme here is a little more like Salacious. Kinks and variety and lots of opportunity to mingle.
But I can’t think that far yet. My brain is like a hamster on a wheel with this cuckolding shit.
Isabel laughs at something Drake says, and I lean back in my chair, watching them. God, I want this so bad. Somehow in the past twenty-four hours, I’ve grown obsessed with this idea.
“What do you think, babe?” Isabel asks, looking at me.
“Huh?”
“Do you want brunch? They have Bloody Marys.”
She’s staring at me with those sweet green eyes, brows raised and a gentle smile on her lips. And I can’t help myself. I’ve lost my fucking mind because if I don’t get this out now, I might fucking lose it.
“Do you know what cuckolding is?” I ask, and she freezes, her face stuck with the same waiting expression she wore after asking me about brunch.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Drake replies when Isabel doesn’t.
“Cuckolding. It’s a kink. Isabel, do you know what it means?” I ask, my eyes not leaving her.
She finally moves, clearing her throat and averting her eyes from my face. “Yeah, isn’t that…like being cheated on or something?”
“Why are you asking about that?” Drake interjects. His knuckles are visibly tighter around his mug.
“It’s not quite cheating because everything is consensual. Some people just like seeing their partner with someone else,” I explain.
She’s fidgeting uncomfortably when she gazes back up at me. “Oh. Okay. Why do you ask?”
Here goes nothing.
“I think I’d like that.”
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.”
“It can be 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, very awkward silence, 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.”
“Oh God,” she wails, dropping her face to her hands. “This is about that night. Of course it is! It meant nothing—’
“I know it meant nothing,” I say. “That’s my point, baby. The thought of it being more than nothing…turns me on.”
When she pulls her face out of her hands, she looks back up at me with her mouth hanging open and her eyes soft and wet from approaching tears. “Really?”
“Really. Izzy, I would never ask you to do something you don’t want to do. If you say no, then I’ll never ask again for as long as I live.”
“No,” she snaps without hesitation, and the air in my lungs flies out in a disappointed whoosh.
That’s the end of that, then.
It takes me a moment to close my jaw and round the table to pull her into my arms. She collapses easily against my chest as I kiss the top of her head.
“I’m so sorry, baby. That was stupid of me to ask. I know. I just…I can’t help what turns me on.”
“It’s okay,” she mumbles against my neck. “I only want you, Hunter. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.” When she lifts her chin and gazes up into my eyes, I lean down and press my lips to hers.
“I don’t deserve you,” I reply, and I feel like a monster for what I just admitted. “Izzy, if I ever made you feel one time in our marriage like I didn’t want you, I’m a fool, and I didn’t mean to.”
“Then, why would you want this?”
The last twenty-four hours I’ve been asking myself that same exact thing, and I wish I could understand the psychology behind why I want this, but none of it makes any sense. It’s not a way of thinking…it’s a way of feeling.
Running my thumb along her jawline, I tilt her head up toward me again. Those emerald green eyes are even brighter when she’s on the verge of tears, and as beautiful as it is, I hate her tears. Seeing Isabel cry feels like a knife to my heart. She waits with those tear-soaked irises aimed at me, and I owe her as much of an answer as I can find.
“If anything, Red, it’s because I do want you. My whole life has been a struggle, but lately, it’s been so easy. Loving you is easy. Being with you is so easy. My job is easy. My friendship with Drake is easy. I miss the fight. I want to fight for you again. And I think seeing you with someone else would wake up that fight in me.”
She gives me a contemplative expression. “There has to be another way,” she replies.
And I kiss her again. “I’m sure there is.”
“I mean…what if it makes you crazy with jealousy? What if you can never forget it and it ruins our entire marriage? What if—’
I quiet her worries with another kiss. “Red, forget about it. I won’t ask about it again.”
“Hunter, I can’t risk losing you.”
“I know, baby. But nothing in the world would ruin our marriage, understand? Nothing.”
The feel of her warm body in my arms brings me enough comfort to ease up the anxiety I felt a moment ago.
“Are you going to talk to him?” she mumbles after a moment.
“I probably should.”
“Go,” she replies, pulling out of my arms.
“No, we have plans today,” I reply. “You wanted a mimosa flight.”
“There is time later for mimosas, Hunter. Go talk to him before he books a flight home.”
“Are you sure?”
She leans up on her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine. “Yes. I’m going to shower. Don’t drink too much. We still have to tour the club tonight.”
“I love you,” I murmur against her kiss.
“I know you do. Now go,” she says, pushing me toward the door. Pocketing my cell phone and grabbing the hotel key off the table, I glance back at her before disappearing through the door in search of my best friend…to apologize for basically asking him to fuck my wife.
