Page 36 of Elicit (Decadence After Dark)

“I know so.” I lock my arm with hers and walk her out of the nook. It’s claustrophobic in there.

“Jett says the same thing. That this is just a temporary stop on the train of life.”

“He actually said that?”

“Yup. Kinda hard to believe a pimp is being so positive, right?” She laughs. “He really doesn’t feel like a pimp, though. He’s more like a hot-ass Mr. Miyagi,” she giggles at her own joke. “He isn’t like any of the other ones I’ve had. He reminds me of a Master, no, a doting Dom.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a doting Dom,” I hiss pessimistically.

“I don’t think there’s anyone else like Jett on the planet, so that’s maybe why.”

“You’ve got me there. He isunique.”

We both giggle now. I can’t remember the last time I did that.

“Jenna? How many pimps have you had?”

“A couple. Been on the streets since I was fourteen. My mom was a junkie, and I never knew my dad. I had to eat somehow. So one of her ‘boyfriends’ set me up. He was a real asshole. And it started from there.”

I listen to her sadly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” She chews on her fingernail. “There are worse places to end up than here, right? Beautiful mansion, fancy clothes, high-class johns. No one hits you or beats you or rapes you or tells you that you’re worthless.”

This is the sickening truth.

“There are definitely worse places,” I agree dejectedly.

“Something tells me you’ve been there.” The girl is wise beyond her years, but has no idea.

“Is that your camera?” She perks up when she sees the body and lenses scattered all over a table.

“Yup. And I have no idea what to do with it.”

Jenna hurries over excitedly and picks it up. “This is awesome.” She starts snapping away.

I’m glad someone isn’t afraid to use it.

“Maybe we should switch. I’ll have the conversation with Jett in French, and you can be the photographer.”

“Sounds like a fair trade.” The shutter clicks. “Tell you what. You help me with French, and I’ll help you set up a Pinterest page so you can learn how this thing works. Twinkie did that when she wanted to learn how to apply all this crazy makeup. She’s killer with cosmetics now.”

I consider her suggestion. “I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

“Definitely not. And what did you just tell me? Practice makes perfect, right?” She hands me the camera. “Don’t think. Just point and shoot.”

I take the Canon. “That seems too easy.”

“Gotta start somewhere. I’ll even be your first model.” She strikes a pose.

“I’ll direct you in French.” I snap her picture.

“It’s a done deal.”

I CAN’T MEDITATE FOR SHIT.

All I can think about is London. For the past two months, she’s done nothing but occupy my mind. I relive her sighs when I touch her, her moans when I fuck her, and her submission when I demand it (which is almost always).

She’s my most dangerous distraction, and I don’t even care.

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