Praise (Salacious Players’ Club)

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.

Suddenly, I realize I’m replaceable. The truth hits me like a train, and it’s excruciating, nearly knocking me off my feet. I mean, I’m not stupid. I know he had other girls before me, but I don’t want to fucking meet them. The cruel reminder that she probably got to sleep with him and I don’t stings too. And I hate the way he ordered me to greet her, even when he and I both know today is not one of those days. I’m not going to play the part for her.

So, I grit my teeth, throw her a fake as hell smile and say, “Hey.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see his face fall. His jaw ticks as he glares at me. It feels like standing under a freezing cold rain, his disappointment laser-focused on me. Monica’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t say anything as she greets the rest of the group.

I refuse to look back at Emerson, out of both obstinance and fear.

Monica displays everything she brought on the glass case and gets started on her presentation. She’s brought an array of toys, things customers could use here at the club. Dildos, vibrators, handcuffs, creams, lotions, lube. You name it, she brought it. And I want to pay attention, but I can’t make my mind focus on anything but Emerson’s frustration with me, so much so that it trumps my frustration with him.

And it doesn’t help that Monica’s attention is almost entirely on Emerson. Once she’s done, Maggie offers to give Monica a tour of the facility, and I’m momentarily relieved that we’re about to be rid of this bitch who just ambushed my perfectly good day.

Then, she turns with a beaming smile at the man next to me and says, “Emerson, I’d love a tour from you.” My skin buzzes with fiery hot hatred as I watch her touch his arm. I despise this woman so much I could hit her. I quickly take a step to follow him, but he turns my way, clutching onto my arm and whispering in a dark, low tone, “Stay here.”

My mouth falls open. Is he serious?

What is he going to do with her? Take her to one of the private rooms and…

“Fine,” I mutter, turning away. If he thinks he’s going to get a Yes, Sir out of me now, he’s crazy.

As I watch them walk away, tears sting my eyes, and I start to wear circles on the floor from my pacing, trying to convince myself not to be as mad as I feel right now.

What do I care? He’s not my boyfriend. We have no claim on each other, and he’s certainly never going to touch me like that, so I should really just get over this hang-up. It’s dumb. A stupid crush, but I’ll never be more than his, sometimes, kinky secretary.

Lingering near the side of the great room, I keep my distance from Drake and Hunter, who are the only two left looking at the display of toys Monica left behind. They’re talking quietly together, but I don’t listen in. I’m too busy stewing about Emerson alone with Monica somewhere in the empty club.

After a few minutes, I hear my name being called.

“Charlie, come here.”

When I look up, Drake is smiling at me, waving me toward them. Unlike Emerson, he actually calls me by my preferred name. When I approach them, still feeling a little grumpy, he touches my arm.

“Help Hunter make a choice here.”

Hunter immediately shakes his head. “Leave her alone. She doesn’t want to help me.” Unlike Drake, Hunter is a little more reserved and will barely even look me in the eye. He’s the only one of the group who is married, and his wife is a drop-dead gorgeous yoga studio owner, so I can’t say I really blame him. I wouldn’t jeopardize that either.

“What’s up?” I ask.

Drake leans forward. “That lady said these were for us to try…”

He’s holding up a U-shaped device. It’s bright pink silicone, and my eyebrows lift as I stare at him. “Well, go ahead, Drake. Give it a try.”

Hunter laughs, since the toy is clearly meant for a vagina. It’s a remote-controlled vibrator with a small black remote.

“It’s not for me,” he says, staring up at me through thick dark lashes. “But he wants to get one for Isabel.”

“So, take it. I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“I think she could wear it in public, while they’re out to dinner or something. But Hunter thinks it would be impossible for her to hide it.”

He puts the pink vibrator in my hand, letting his fingers linger a moment too long on my skin as he gazes up at me. Drake’s flirtation skills are so good, it should be criminal, like some sort of unfair sorcery. I swear, with those eyes and that smile, I would commit arson for him and probably wouldn’t remember a thing.

With a push of a button in his hand, the small vibrator comes to life. It’s a subtle whirring, but it still sends a jolt of excitement to my core.

“I think it depends on how much vibration you turn on,” I reply, my mouth dry as he stares at me, turning up the intensity. It buzzes loudly in my palm.

“How sexy would that be?” he asks. “Sitting in a public place, feeling this between your legs and not being able to react.”

“Impossible,” I reply in a breathy whisper.

“So try it. I want to know for sure.” He’s still staring at me with those fuck me eyes, and I have to force myself to breathe.

“You can’t be serious,” I reply with a tilt of my head.

“I dare you,” Drake says, and it’s like he knows me. I’m not the kind of girl to turn down a dare.

Maybe it’s because I’m pissed at Emerson or because I’ve already fucked up once today that I do something I know will piss him off even more. I close my hand around the vibrator and look Drake straight in the eyes, leaning so close to him, it looks like we might kiss. “Fine.”

He turns the vibration off and smiles as I grab one of the disinfect wipes and clean off the toy. Then I head toward the bathroom next to us. In my periphery, I see Hunter shake his head at his friend. I really have no intention of doing anything with Drake. As much as I’m sure I’d enjoy it, it would be so wrong. Not only would it drive Emerson completely mad, but it would jeopardize the job I love so much.

In the bathroom, my hands start shaking as I take the vibrator to the stall with me. Once again, I’ve found myself in another what the fuck am I doing? situation. But I said I would, so I’m doing it.

The toy has a thick, bulbous side and a thin, padded one. According to Monica’s instructions, the bulbous side goes inside to vibrate against the G-spot. I can’t say I’ve had any experience with guys ever finding the elusive G-spot, so I’m skeptical. Taking a deep breath, I pull up my skirt, pull down my panties, and insert the thick side where it belongs.

Oh. It sort of clamps in place, sitting snug against my clit. And once I pull my panties back up, it’s like a hidden little secret under my skirt. It’s weird, having something inside me as I walk out of the stall. With every step, it shifts against my clit, and I have to pause at the bathroom door. It’s not even turned on and I’m already worried I won’t be able to keep a straight face.

Straightening my shoulders and hiding my smile, I strut out of the bathroom toward where Drake and Hunter are waiting. They’re both watching me, and I hold back my smile. Then I see movement in Drake’s right hand.

Suddenly, the toy hums in my panties, and my eyes widen.

Oh, shit.

It’s so good, sensations buzzing inside and out, and I feel myself getting wet already.

“Wait, wait, wait,” I call. Drake laughs.

“Come on, that’s the lowest setting.”

Fuck. I’m about to turn around and run to the bathroom to take it out because there’s no way. Then, his hand moves again and the damn thing comes to life, buzzing even harder against my clit.

“Drake!” I shriek, bowing toward the floor as I mentally force myself not to come. No, no, no, no.

When it stops, I lunge toward him. “Give me that damn thing!” I yell, but he holds it out of my grasp. I’m pressed against his body, reaching for the remote as the toy starts up again.

Against my will, the highest pitch, most humiliating sound slips through my lips. It’s like the soundtrack to a porno plays for one second, and Drake howls with laughter.

“You’re such a jerk!” I yell clapping my hand over my mouth. I can’t believe I just made that sound. Poor Hunter is covering his face with his hand, looking beet red and trying not to watch as I fight Drake for the remote, while also trying not to have a very public orgasm against my will.

“You know you like it,” Drake replies darkly, and my eyes meet his for a second. Oh, shit. With the way he’s looking at me, and the way my body is feeling at the moment, we are definitely heading straight for something I don’t want and I’m afraid if I don’t stop this right now, I’m going to regret it.

There’s only one person I want to cross the line with, and sorry, Drake, but it’s not you.

“What is going on?” a dark voice bellows from across the room, and my body turns to ice.

The buzzing stops abruptly, and I pry myself away from Drake’s wall of muscle. Quickly turning, I see Emerson walking toward me with a look of horror on his face. Oh God, he’s going to find out about the vibrator. I mean, I wanted him to find out, because it would make him mad, and I wanted to make him mad. Does this make me a brat?

But now that he’s staring at me like that, like I’ve betrayed him and somehow hurt him, I desperately hope he doesn’t find out. I can’t stand another second of his disappointment.

“Relax. Charlotte and I were just conducting an experiment,” Drake says, and my eyes shift toward him. Oh God, he’s going to just tell him, isn’t he?

“It’s nothing,” I reply quickly, walking toward Emerson.

“What experiment?” Emerson asks.

Drake holds up the remote. “We wanted to see if she could act natural with that remote control vibrator in.”

Emerson’s head turns slowly in my direction, and I shrink into a tiny speck of dust next to him. “You’re wearing it now?”

I force down a nervous swallow. Drake laughs. “Yeah. And in case you’re wondering, she cannot. Couldn’t even walk on the lowest setting.”

I hate Drake. I hate him so fucking much. More than I hate Monica.

Okay, maybe not more than I hate Monica. But I hate him a lot.

“Ha, ha, ha,” I reply snarkily, glaring narrow-eyed at Drake. He winks back at me, and it makes me hate him more. Stupid hot guy sorcery. I walk toward the bathroom to take the toy out, but Emerson stops me.

“Not so fast.” I watch in horror as he steps toward Drake, holding out a hand for the remote. As Drake places it in his palm, I stare, as if waiting for something catastrophic to happen. He wouldn’t…would he?

He slips the remote into his pocket. “Let’s go, Charlotte.”

The look on his face doesn’t look playful or kind. His jaw is still clicking as he clenches his teeth. His gaze still hard on me before he turns and marches toward the front door.

I quickly look back at Drake, who doesn’t even bother to look apologetic. He snickers to himself.

Yep, I hate him.

With the vibrator snugly in place, but still and quiet—thank God—I rush off behind Emerson.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

He gives me one quick, impatient glance before replying, “Out to lunch.”