Page 30 of Elicit (Decadence After Dark)

Jesus, she makes my chest ache.

As much as I want to wrap her in my arms and demand she tell me what’s wrong, my instincts instruct me to do the exact opposite. To give her the space she needs and let her come to me.

I leave her tidy bedroom silently with high hopes she’ll do just that.

YOU’RE A FUCKING MORON, Ichastise myself in the mirror. You just lashed out at the one person who can keep you safe. Keep you hidden.

He caught me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting anyone to come looking for me. But I should have known. No time is my own. It belongs to everyone else. Primarily Jett.

But the anxiety was building, and I had to let it out. I needed the emotional release. I’ve barely slept. Barely eaten. And been worked over continuously this week. It’s like every time I turned around there was another man to service. Including Kayne. He’s the most intense of all. A straight up machine.

I needed a minute. A breather. And as soon as I saw Jett, I knew what he wanted, too.

Sometimes the past collides with the present. Sometimes I find myself crumbling, and the only way to endure is to fall apart and then glue back each of the broken pieces. I’ll never truly be whole. There are cracks and crevices at the very center of my core. But I go on. Why? I’m not quite sure. It would be so easy just to end it. Just two quick flicks of a razor blade and all my suffering would be over. But even that doesn’t seem like a way out. Suicide isn’t appealing enough for me to actually attempt. Something inside pushes me on, telling me to live. I just wish I knew exactly what that something was.

Finding my second wind, I drop my towel on the floor and throw on some clothes. A pair of skimpy underwear, an oversized T-shirt that reads “Love Pink” across the shoulders, and a pair of white knee socks with black stripes around the calf.

I don’t even bother to brush my hair. I just hurry out of the room and prepare to grovel.

I search all over for Jett. His room, backstage, the mobile spa, the living room, dining room, even the kitchen and service kitchen where he found me making the chocolate crinkles. He ate almost all of them in bed that night. An entire pile of cookies and a huge glass of milk. I don’t know why that makes me smile. Maybe because he’s the first person to ever enjoy something I have to offer other than my body. Enjoy may be putting it mildly. He moaned like I was giving him head.

Baking is an outlet for me. Keeps my hands busy and my oscillating thoughts at bay.

The last place I look is his office. Hoping beyond hope he’s holed away in there. I knock on the door self-consciously. “Jett?”

Three heartbeats pass before the door swings open, and Jett leans on the frame. The same way he did the first day I met him.

“I’m sorry,” I immediately spill, wrapping my arms around myself and dropping my eyes submissively. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I just wasn’t expecting anyone to walk in. I know I was out of line. I’m so sorry. Please don’t send me away. You can punish me however you want, just please don’t make me leave,” I beg.

Jett clutches my jaw and forces me to look up. An unfathomable expression on his face. “What would ever make you think I’d want topunishyou for your outburst?”

Because that’s all I know. That’s what happens when I’m disrespectful or disobedient.

“Don’t you?” I question.

“No. Do you think you’re the first woman to walk into this house with issues?”

I shrug because I honestly have no idea. Jett releases my jaw and pushes the door open wider.

“In.”

I step inside the room, and he closes the door behind me. After which he saunters back to his desk in bare feet, slim blue jeans, and a white V-neck T-shirt. He has this whole European style with the attitude to match.

“Come. Sit,” he instructs as he settles behind his desk. I follow, going for one of the chairs opposite him. “No. Here.” He stops me before my butt hits the cushion, tapping the top of his sleek wood desk. “Directly in front of me.”

I sit where I’m told, sliding myself between his legs. He leans back in his chair, laces his fingers over his chest, and gazes up at me. Those aqua eyes picking me apart piece by tiny, broken, fractured piece. It’s unnerving.

I cross my ankles and anchor my hands, trying to look anywhere but at Jett. Which is nearly impossible because his immense presence engulfs the room.

“Do you want to tell me what that outburst was all about?” he asks evenly.

“No,” I shoot back almost immediately.

“Is there anything pressing I should know?”

“No. I was just having a moment.”

“A woman moment or I need to talk to a shrink moment?”

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