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Forty-eight

"Your nipples are staring at me," Brandon says. "Anyone who cares to can see them."

On instinct, my eyes lower to my chest, to my nipples stretching against the gold, thin strap satin gown I am wearing. I flash him a smile, cover the distance between us to smoothen the invisible creases on his tuxedo. He growls and grabs my wrists to stop me from palming his growing bulge, I giggle and throw my head back, he snickers. I love the effect I now have on him, it almost feels surreal to know that he hated me at some point.

"When you walk, everyone will see your thighs," he murmurs as my hands reach up to adjust his bow tie of the same colour with my gown. He frowns. "I don't like that."

Pulling his lower lip between my teeth, I

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