Praise (Salacious Players Club, #1)

by Sara Cate

“I read smart books,” she replies with a laugh. “Oh, then I guess I’ll have to show Mom your e-reader. Let’s see how smart she thinks Mating the Werewolf is.”

I am not that kind of girl, and I have absolutely no interest in finding guys who want to make me get on my knees while they call me pretty. Fuck that.

I’m rendered completely and utterly speechless, sitting across from him like a fish with my jaw hanging open, wondering how I went from a fight with Beau on his front lawn a couple days ago to this—his father telling me that I look good on my knees. No, not just good. Exquisite.

Buying lingerie for a new secretary job is gratuitous, but I’m just in that kind of mood. Also…with what I know about his business, I kind of want to feel sexy under my clothes.

If this week has proven anything to me, it’s that I need to watch myself around this girl. She’s too perfect to ignore and too forbidden to be mine.

Suddenly, I’m all gooey and compliant, like that one little phrase put me in a trance. He could literally do anything to me in this state. And I sort of want him to.

I want things with Emerson I don’t understand. Things I didn’t expect. And it’s not sex—although I wouldn’t turn that down. More than anything, I want his attention. I want to live in this world with him and I want him to be my guide—not just for one night. I want to be the only woman on his arm…to be his. I’m setting myself up for heartbreak, I know it.

For some reason, I really want them to know. Suddenly, I want everyone to know. I’ve never had a desire to be claimed before, but suddenly, it’s like I need the world to know I belong to Emerson Grant. Which is ridiculous.

But the way Emerson makes me feel. The way I feel about him. How my heart seems to almost expand in his presence, the way I like myself more when I’m around him. How I want to be the only girl in the world he ever sets eyes on again. I’m falling hard for Emerson Grant. I’m so fucked.

“I’ll fill out that form for you if you want, but I don’t need to. You want me to tell you that I want to taste you, Charlotte? Because I do. I want to touch you, tease you, fuck you, bend you over my knee and turn that pretty little backside red. There’s not a thing on that list I don’t want to do with you, so you can put the paper and pen away, little girl. Every single thing would get a five from me.”

“My girl wants this, doesn’t she?” he growls as he does it again. “Yes!” I cry, pulling him in for another kiss. “Then get on your knees and take it out.” No one has ever scrambled to their knees faster than I do in this moment.

I want Emerson Grant to dominate me like he never has before, tell me every single dirty thing he wants to do to me and every dirty thing he wants me to do to him. I will obey every single command without hesitation. His voice is like lava dripping down my spine, and I am a gooey mess of a sub, willing to do literally anything he says.

Dear God, please let this be the only man I fuck for the rest of my life because there’s not a chance in Hell anyone else could ever top that.

deep down I’m holding on to the hope that Emerson will get over the fact that I dated his son and let this thing between us be real. And I really should have learned my lesson by now when it comes to hoping. It always ends in disappointment.

Right now I want to wallow in my pity, knowing that I may never see her or speak to her again. And that’s it for me. I don’t want another sub or another girlfriend. Charlotte is about as replaceable as Beau, which means not at all.

And then another part wants to see her stay strong, take all the power and control I’ve harbored all this time, and do what’s right for her. Even if that means leaving me here. When she does, I’m so proud of her, but it still hurts like a motherfucker.