He motioned for me to turn around, and when I did, he tugged the zipper down to my waist. His knuckles bumped over the hooks of my bra and along the small of my back. I shivered. There was no way he didn’t notice. I’d tried so hard to keep my reactions in check tonight, but now, with all this oxygen rushing to my head and the complete lack of an audience gobbling up our every move, I found I couldn’t hold back anymore. That was the fear at the core of all this. I didn’t trust myself to hold back. I didn’t trust myself to keep my feelings out of the fake marriage. I didn’t believe it could ever
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