Page 15 of Elicit (Decadence After Dark)

I glance in the vanity mirror. The material hugs every single curve I have, my skin is peeking through the sheerest parts, and my breasts are pouring out of my cleavage. I’ve been dressed up before, paraded around in next to nothing, even auctioned off to the highest bidder, but I’ve never received a compliment before. When I look at my reflection, I don’t see someone beautiful. I see someone broken.

“Thank you.” My reply is uncomfortable. It isn’t genuine as much as I’d like it to be.

Amber smiles sweetly. “Let’s finish you off.” She holds up a tiny brush.

“Close your eyes.” I do, and she dusts my eyelids several times with powder. “Open.” Again, I listen, and she sweeps my eyelashes with a few thick coats of mascara, finally finishing with blush on my cheeks and gloss on my lips. The whole process takes less than ten minutes. “Voila!” She turns me toward the lighted vanity so I can see her masterpiece in the mirror.

“You are going to knock them dead.” She pulls out my bun and lets my purplish-red hair fall freely around my shoulders. “Don’t get too used to the royal treatment. It’s your first night. We don’t want to disappoint the boss.” She winks. “Next time, this is all you.”

I nod. I can handle that.

“Ladies!” Jett waltzes right into the room, no knock, no nothing. He stops short for a split second when he sees me but doesn’t skip a beat. “It’s show time.” He never peels his eyes off me as he addresses us. “I’m expecting all my little vixens to be on their naughtiest behavior. You know the drill—entrance, enrapture, entrain. Then blow their fucking minds. In every sense of the word.” He smiles cheekily. All the girls file out half-naked and in high heels. I slip mine on as I follow behind Amber. I stop just as I meet Jett in the doorway. He ingests me from head to toe. Does he like what he sees? Why does it matter?Because he’s the only thing standing between your safety and the outside world. Displease him, and you’re out. You’re vulnerable. You’re susceptible.

You’re basically screwed.

“Do you approve?” I swallow my fears and all my insecurities.

“I do.” His eyes flash, and something courses between us. My nipples harden, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Jett sucks on his bottom lip, our bodies only inches apart. I start to panic but breathe through the attack.

“Why don’t I have a nickname?” I ask, hoping to ease the suffocating tension.

Recognition crosses over his pretty features. I haven’t been attracted to a man in a long time, but something about Jett intrigues me. That rouses something inside me.

“You do. I just haven’t shared it with you yet.” He gestures with his head to follow him. The rest of the girls are already gone, so I have to follow him to our destination. We walk down the long carpeted hallway, descend the stairs, and make our way through the overly extravagant house. We come to a large sitting room filled with well-dressed men and all the other girls. Everyone is mingling and flirting, some already being pawed.

“Gentlemen.” Jett takes center stage, gaining everyone’s attention. “I’d like to introduce you to our newest addition.” He glances back at me as I stand somewhat behind him. “Sugar.”

And there it is, my pet name. A dozen and a half pairs of eyes all fall on me. I know the drill, act confident on the outside even though you’re falling apart on the inside. This is what I’m here for. This is my survival.

“Go mingle,” Jett whispers. His hot breath tickles the shell of my ear, causing my already hard nipples to pull tighter.

I do as I’m told as he walks to the edge of the room. I spot Amber sharing a drink with an older man. He has his hand on her butt as she clearly charms him.

Nadia isn’t very far away from her, laughing, touching, and caressing a younger guy. He’s extremely handsome, with black hair and exotic features. He has his hands all over her, dotting light kisses on her neck as she smiles.

The calculated ratio of men to women is two to one. I walk the room, highly aware of Jett’s astute gaze.

A middle-aged man approaches me. Good-looking, with dark hair that has wisps of gray. Dashing is how I would describe him. His salmon dress shirt is impeccably pressed, as are his black trousers. He absolutely stinks of money.

I plaster on my fake smile and accept the glass of champagne he offers me. Alcohol is always the perfect icebreaker.

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” He eyes me lewdly. If I wasn’t already half-naked, I’m sure he’d be mentally undressing me. He takes a sip of his champagne before he leans into me. “Do you know what I love about these socials?” he asks.

“No.”

“The variety,” he indulges me. “The buffet of beautiful women to choose from, and a chance to experience someone new.”

I lift my eyes to meet his and catch Jett circling the perimeter of the room. Although his movements are causal, his gaze is heavy, watchful. Weighing directly on me. Is he evaluating me? I turn up the interest, engaging the man the way he wants. Entrance, enrapture, entrain. Before long, I have the man eating out of my hand. Touching me, laughing with me. Wanting me.

I don’t hear one thing he says. I don’t even care. I just want to do my job and survive another day.

Before long, the room starts to clear out. It’s obvious what for. That two-to-one ratio begins to shift, and soon, it’s one to four. Four men and one woman. And that woman is me. The four remaining men circle like hungry sharks.

“This one will do just fine, Jett.” The man I’ve been entertaining all night pipes up.

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