Praise (Salacious Players Club #1)(40)

Finally, I decide to be honest…and careful.

It is possible. It just means our options are limited. Yes, the Dom/sub activities are mostly sexual in nature, but the dynamic is not. And the dynamic is what I like most.





She’s typing out her response almost immediately.

So you didn’t have sex with your last “secretaries”?





I groan again. Does she even know what she’s doing to me? Does she really understand how much I want her and how hard she makes it to deny myself when she asks me stuff like this?

Answering this question is painful, and I hate that I have to be honest.

I had sex with most of them.





Her reply takes a moment longer.

Oh.





There’s tension on the line while I wait for another message. I wish I could just tell her how badly I want her, but I can’t. Finally, when she does respond, the message nearly breaks me.

I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but I like being submissive. I just want to be enough for you. I want to make you proud.

Even if we can’t… :(





The words on the screen course down my spine like a slow drip of lava, and my cock is more than ready for round two. It might actually be the sad face emoji that does me in. The tiny little frown on my screen that makes me want to say fuck it and drive over to her pool house right now so I can force her to her knees, slide my cock between those perfect, wide-set lips, and make her beg me to fuck her. I quickly type out my response before I can overthink it, choosing to ignore the last message she sent altogether.

You made me very proud today.

And you are more than enough.

You are perfect.





The throbbing organ in my chest swells as I hit Send. This is more than arousal. More than wanting to fuck her or hear her call me Sir. If I were twenty years younger, she’s exactly the kind of girl I’d want. Why Beau let her get away, I have no clue. But I’m finding myself more and more addicted to this girl with each passing day.

And when my phone chimes again with another text, I’m almost too afraid to read it because I’m pretty sure I already know what it’s going to say.

Thank you, Sir.





God, I’m so fucked.





RULE #18: WEAR A REMOTE-CONTROLLED VIBRATOR AT YOUR OWN RISK.





Charlotte





It’s a no-fun day. Which is what I’ve come to call the days that I have to be just Charlotte and he’s Emerson, not Sir. There’s no good girls. No yes, Sirs. Just a regular secretary. Blah.

We do it every other day, and I find myself more and more disappointed on days like this.

Luckily, we’re at the club today. Emerson has a meeting with some sex toy suppliers to stock the store, so I guess I really can’t complain about today, after all. When we arrive at the club, I follow him to the right where everyone is gathered—Garrett, Maggie, Hunter, and even the construction worker, Drake, who’s no longer in his dusty clothes and hard hat but dressed nicely in a pair of tight jeans and V-cut T-shirt, showing off a patch of dark chest hair. My gaze lingers on him for a moment, and he catches me staring, sending me a wink that makes me blush and look away.

My eyes trail to Emerson, who is watching me too, but he doesn’t look as happy as Drake. In fact, he’s glaring at me with a furrowed brow. Shit…what is that look for? What did I do wrong?

Before I can ask, a woman I don’t recognize walks in through the front door. She is a tall redhead dressed all in black and carrying a black tote bag. There is a belted harness over her shoulders and wrapped around her waist. I find myself staring at it. It looks more like a fashion statement than something she utilizes, and I love the way it looks on her. Powerful and dominant and sexy. With a bright smile on her face, she introduces herself to everyone.

Then as her gaze falls on Emerson’s face, she pauses. “Hello, Emerson,” she says with a bright, flirty smile. Instantly, the hairs on my neck rise in alarm.

“Monica,” he replies, biting back his own smile. “How are you?”

They clearly know each other.

“I’m great. You?”

“Good, thanks. Running your own business now?”

“Yes,” she says, clutching her bag tighter. “And business is great.”

“I’m proud of you,” he replies, and the fake smile I was trying to hold fades into a frown. Hearing him praise someone else has me wanting to scream.

“Is this your new secretary?” she asks, glancing at me.

“Yes. This is Charlotte. Charlotte, please greet Monica Taylor. An old employee of mine.”

My eyes snap in his direction, but he doesn’t give me any signs. Just a blank expression. As her eyes cascade over my body, sizing me up, I shift uncomfortably on my feet.

“Lovely to meet you, Charlotte.”

He nods his head subtly as if to remind me of my order. He told me to greet her. Ordered me to. He doesn’t do that unless it’s a…Dom/sub day. Is he trying to show me off? Because he wants her to see how good his new secretary is?

Well, too bad, because I’m already feeling stubborn.

I don’t want to meet his old secretary. Especially not as my imagination sends me images of her on her knees for him. His praise in her ears instead of mine.