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Praise (Salacious Players Club, #1)(76)

Author:Sara Cate

I pull up Charlotte’s panties and adjust her skirt. She stands up and fixes her blouse.

Before she moves toward the door, I grab her waist and pull her against me. I need her lips, one quick taste before we walk back out there, and she goes on stage, letting random men bid money for her time. I need to fool myself for just a little longer and pretend she’s mine.

If I were a smart man, I’d let someone else win Charlotte tonight. I should let him impress her with his money or promises of sex, and if she decides she’d rather be with someone who could love her for real, I should let her go.

But even I know, that’s impossible now. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let her go.

RULE #28: WHEN HE TELLS YOU YOU’RE WORTH IT, BELIEVE IT.

Charlotte

I think I’m gonna be sick. This can’t be happening. Somehow, I’m standing among a horde of thirteen other women, all of them supermodel gorgeous and in their underwear—if you could call it that.

I’m doing this for Emerson. I can’t tell if he’s telling me to do this because he needs me to or because he wants me to. Is he really going to let someone else win an hour with me, assuming anyone even bids? Do I mean that little to him?

I can’t stop wringing my hands when my gaze locks with the throne-room woman, Madame Kink herself. With her long black hair and disarming green eyes, she struts over to me with a warm smile.

“Hello again.”

“Hi,” I stammer, trying to keep my eyes on her face and not on her breasts, which are covered only by pasties. I’ve never felt more ridiculous for wearing clothes.

I straighten my spine and try to pretend I’m sexy and confident. Though I’m not sure it’s working.

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

“Nervous? No…” Yeah, I’m definitely not selling it. She replies with a smile. “Yes, I’m a little nervous,” I continue. “This is not really normal for me.”

“What’s your name?” she asks.

“Charlie, er, I mean Charlotte.”

Grinning, she says, “I’m Eden.”

“Nice to meet you,” I whisper, still wringing my hands.

“May I?” She touches the buttons of my blouse. Looking into her kind, green eyes, I let out a deep breath and nod. There’s something about her taking off my clothes that makes me feel a little more relaxed about them coming off in public in the first place.

“Oh, this is cute,” she says, noticing my black lace bra under my shirt. “You should definitely show this off.” She slips my white blouse off my shoulders. Then, standing behind me, she unzips my skirt.

“How long have you and Emerson been together?” she asks casually.

“We’re not. I’m just his secretary,” I correct her.

There’s a small giggle as she leans forward and presses her mouth next to my ear. “You have a bite mark on your ass cheek, Charlotte.”

I gasp, drawing the attention of the girls around me. “Oh my god.” I try to hide my mortification, but Eden just slides her hands over my shoulders, trying to comfort me.

“Relax. It’s hot as fuck.”

“Is it really noticeable?” I ask, trying to cover it with my hand. She moves in front of me, nodding her head.

“Very. So, Emerson didn’t do that?”

I can’t even try to hide it at this point. Twisting my lips, I give a little shrug, and she nods knowingly.

“You don’t think he’s too old for me?” I ask, trying to read her expression. But she only laughs.

“No, I don’t think he’s too old for you. Do you?”

I shrug. “It’s complicated.”

“I’ve known Emerson for a few years, and I’ve never seen him give someone as much attention as he gives you.”

It makes me feel better, but only for a moment. I focus on her face and dread swims through me as I ask, “Wait…you and Emerson have never…have you?”

“No,” she answers plainly. “Emerson is very dominant…and so am I.”

“Oh.” I feel like such an idiot here sometimes, like I don’t get any of this and maybe I never will. It’s like I’m stepping into a foreign world that I will never truly be a part of. I exist only on Emerson’s arm, only here as his accessory, and not really here as myself.

Eden must sense my apprehension because she takes my hands in hers. “Relax, Charlotte.”

And then I ask what I’ve been dying to ask since she started speaking to me. “Can I ask you a question?”

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