DEMETRIA

“Marion!” I tried to guard my face. He had lifted a camera, brought it to his face, and took a picture. I had noticed it earlier when I entered his bedroom, where a large, flat-screen TV was on the wall across from the bed. Under it was a black dresser, the camera resting on top of it.

“Relax. I won’t sell them to the blogs. It’s mine for perusal.” He grinned. He was now sitting on an ottoman. He played with the camera because I refused to strip. I’m stubborn, I know. ...