ISABELLA
Taking off my dress should have been easy. It wasn’t like Logan hadn’t seen me naked before. He’d seen me in ways I wouldn’t dare admit to anyone, bent over tables, pressed against walls, my legs wrapped around his waist as he had his way with me.
And yet, standing here now, with his sharp blue eyes locked onto me, stripping felt like a monumental task.
Maybe it was because I wasn’t wearing much underneath. No bra, just a flimsy scrap of lace in the form of a thong.
I had chosen the dress for its effortless s*x appeal, but now, it felt like a setup. My own damn setup.
Logan leaned back against the pillows, shirtless, the sheets pooling around his waist. His gaze never wavered, his amusement clear in the upward tilt of his lips.
“You taking your clothes off tonight, or are
