Praise (Salacious Players Club, #1)(77)

“You’re getting close, I can tell,” he says, and he’s right. My body writhes on his desk, and my breathing turns into stunted gasps. “Right…there.”

Suddenly, the vibration is gone. Just as I was about to crest the peak of my orgasm, he made it stop. I feel a bead of sweat across my forehead as I take in a long, heavy breath. When I look back at him, he’s grinning, pleased with himself.

“Was I right?”

“Yes, Sir,” I reply.

“You’re not being punished, but I’m going to do that to you all day. If you’re a good girl, you’ll be rewarded at the end of the day. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He leans forward and presses his lips to a soft spot on the inside of my thighs. “I’m going to keep your panties in my desk. Try not to make a mess on your chair.”

Then he gently pats my ass and sends me to work. He spends the next couple of hours teasing me with steady vibrations, taking me to the edge and bringing me back down. I wish I could say I hated it, but so far, it’s not so bad. I like the buildup, anyway. And I love his attention most of all, which is what I’m getting today.

“It’s beautiful out,” he says, while I’m in the middle of an email to Maggie. “Let’s walk to the deli together.” Oh, Emerson, I think to myself. Of course you want to get me out in public with this thing inside me.

But do I argue? Nope. I simply smile, nod my head, and answer him accordingly, “Yes, Sir.”





“I’ll give you a foot rub tonight,” he says on the one-mile walk back, glancing down at my heels. These are a little more comfortable than the last ones, but I’m not going to turn down a foot rub. In the deli, he had me almost crying as he tortured me. It was packed in there, people milling around in all the open spaces as he flipped the toy on, making me cling to his arm for support, afraid I would crumble to the floor at any second.

He found so much humor in it, but I could also tell he was aroused too. So much so that he had to hold me in front of him the whole time to block people from seeing his hard length as we ordered our sandwiches. There I was ordering a turkey sub with Emerson Grant’s hard cock pressed into my back while a vibrator nearly made me orgasm in the middle of the word mayonnaise.

If people didn’t notice how strange we were behaving, it was a miracle, or they were blind. But we didn’t care. We ate our lunch in a small booth in the back with smiles plastered on our faces. This could work, I thought to myself the whole time. I could be his secretary as a front, and his girlfriend in secret, and no one would need to know. It would be enough.

But as we reach his house, and I see a familiar figure standing on Emerson’s front porch, all of that idiotic hope comes crashing down around me.

“Beau?” Emerson calls out, spotting his son. When he spins around to answer his father’s call, I freeze. I don’t know if Emerson feels the same wave of guilt as I do, but seeing Beau now feels like a punch to the gut. And he looks…good. Better than last time. He’s cut his hair, has a smile on his face, and doesn’t look like he wants to murder his own father.

“Is everything okay?” Emerson asks, rushing over.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

There is a look of skeptical surprise on Emerson’s face, his attention laser-focused on his son, and I can’t believe the rising jealousy that courses through me when I notice. It’s his son, Charlie. Of course he’s going to give him his attention. Over you.

“I was working in the area. I saw Charlie’s car here, so I thought I’d come hang out for a bit.”

Come hang out? Glancing toward the road, I notice his white truck parked on the curb. How did I not notice that before? He must have used the money his dad gave him last time to get it fixed.

None of this feels right, but I don’t say anything as Emerson opens the door to let him in. He looks so elated to see his son again, I can’t be the one who takes that away. So I act casual as we walk inside together. Emerson empties his pockets at the front entryway table, dropping his keys into the bowl.

“Are you hungry?” he asks Beau.

Beau shakes his head before turning toward me.

“So where were you guys at?” he asks. My eyes dance between the two men for a moment, trying to get a second of Emerson’s attention, but he’s too guarded, too scared.

“We went to the deli down the street. Are you sure you’re not hungry?” Emerson replies.

“Nope, I’m good. I got a new job,” he adds in, and the smile on his face feels almost contagious. If I wasn’t so uptight in this scenario, I might actually feel an ounce of joy for him, but I’m too unsettled. I keep waiting for him to notice that Emerson and I are fucking, as if he could read it on our faces.

I mean, I wish I could read Emerson’s face right now, but he’s being so guarded that it’s impossible.

“I’m going to grab some drinks. You guys go sit in the front room and I’ll be right out. I want to hear all about your new job,” Emerson says, turning toward the kitchen.

“Yes, Sir,” I answer out of habit, immediately wincing as the words tumble out of my mouth.

Emerson freezes in the doorway, and I try to play it off as nothing out of the ordinary, waltzing straight over to the sitting room at the front of the house.