Chapter 48
Nolan
"Quick, he's coming." Ciel hisses, shoving me toward the laundry machine like some kind of deranged director setting the stage.
"This is ridiculous," I grumble, already regretting agreeing to this.
Ciel doesn't answer. He just tilts his head, those golden eyes scanning me like I'm a mannequin he's dressing for a window display. Calculating.
Then—before I can demand an explanation—he pinches my nipples through my shirt.
"Ow!" I yelp, jerking back, clutching my chest.
He grins like a lunatic. "Perfect." And then he's gone, slipping out of the room with that infuriatingly smug bounce in his step.
I groan, looking down at myself. Great. I look like a slut. A literal slut. The thin tank top Ciel shoved on me clings too tight, nipples standing out like neon signs. My pants ride so low I'm terrified if I bend even slightly, my ass crack will greet the entire household.
