Page 18 of The Reluctant Billionaire

She raises her eyebrows at me in a schoolmarmish manner.

‘No,’ I repeat, more quietly this time. ‘For a… friend.’

For a gorgeous prick-teasenon-friend with fantastic tits and porn-star nipples who’s quickly becoming the bane of my—and my cock’s—existence.

‘Right you are. Any particular style you’re after?’

I swallow. This is excruciating. I’ve bought lingerie for women before, but that usually involves me giving their vitals to Tish and having her order from Matches or Net à Porter.

I should totally have called Tish for this.

I’m way out of my depth here.

‘I’m after something…’

Ugly.

Asexual.

Man-repelling.

Dick-shrivelling.

‘…full coverage. Something really plain, so you can’t see anything through clothes. Like no patterns, or outlines, or…’

I shoot her a long, pleading, and hopefully telepathic look.

‘Nipples?’ she suggests.

I give her a curt nod of relief. ‘Exactly.’

‘Ah. So a t-shirt bra, then? Something that won’t show any lines?’

‘That sounds great. Yes.’

‘Well,’ she says, ‘we have plenty of those. What colour?’

I think. ‘White?’

‘That’s fine. Just be aware that white can show up under thinner light-coloured fabric.’

The panic rises up in me again. ‘Oh, no. Don’t want that. What else is there?’

‘How about nude?’

Nude? No, that sounds terrible. A sudden vision of Carlotta in some fucking see-through, mesh,nudebra, everything on full display, has me light-headed.

I shake my head frantically. ‘No, you don’t understand. She—my friend—has nipples that need serious reining in. Like, remember that Sofia Vergara movie where she shoots bullets from her t—breasts? They’re like that.Nudewon’t cut it. She needs serious buffering.’

She’s staring at me, and I realise belatedly thatMachete Killsmay not have been the under-rated gem for her that it was for me. Thankfully, she takes pity on me and pats me on the arm. ‘Nude’s a colour, dear, not an opacity descriptor. It sounds like you might be after a skin-coloured bra, is that right? That way you’ll get minimal outline.’

‘Yeah,’ I breathe. ‘That sounds perfect, thanks.’

‘Well, let’s take a look then, shall we?’ She bustles off and calls, ‘What size?’

What size?

What size?

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