my dress debt.
Logan’s hand drifts up to my chin, and he lifts it gently until I’m forced to look him right in the eyes. His dark lashes are wet and thick, and his brown eyes sear into me in such a lovely way. If I had any talent for art, I’d want to paint him like this, right up close so the world could see him from this angle and we could all collectively swoon.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” he promises.
Then his hand leaves my face and snakes around the back of my dress, our gazes staying locked as if he’s put me under a spell. I’m only half aware of everything going on around me: the soft feel of the wet fabric against my skin, the way our hips keep bumping together beneath the surface of the water, how much he overcrowds me when I’m not even backed into a corner. Then his fingers find the top of my zipper and he tugs, not gently. He pulls like he’s on a mission, one he completes much too quickly. I hear the telltale sound of expensive fabric tearing and the dress splits in two, filling with water and starting to slide off my body.
I look down in absolute shock. A delayed reaction if there ever was one.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” he swears, again, stripping the material away.
“Well now you’ll have to! You tore it!”
“What was your plan, exactly?” he says, tipping his head in such a boyish way that I almost, for a second, forget how intimidating he can be.
“Simple—to wear it every day until I die.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Please go get your checkbook right now,” I say, pointing back inside his flat. “I’ll wait. Make the check out to Candace Williams. That’s C-A-N-D-A-C-E. I’ll cash it in the morning.”
“Sure thing…right after we’re done swimming,” he says with a cocky smile as he finishes yanking my dress off me.
I’ve been unclothed by a few lads in my day, and there’s always been a lot of fumbling fingers and nervous laughter. Not this time. Oh, no. Logan is stripping me in front of a crowd of people, and it’s like he’s done the gesture a thousand times before. Very practiced, this man.
I’m highly aware that my knickers are not at all modest. They cut high up along my arse so that most of it is exposed, not quite a thong, but not that far off. Thank god I went for that wax! My bra is no better. I wore a strapless one when we went dress shopping, and the nude material has gone nearly see-through.
“I’m practically naked!”
“Hardly,” Logan says, a wicked look in his eyes as he gathers my most prized possession, wads it into a ball, and tosses it out of the pool. Red fabric heaps beside a lounger, and now I’m stuck, in here with him, with barely any clothes on.
“Give me your tee!” I say, swimming closer and starting to pry the wet material off his abs. “It’ll cover me well enough. Probably go down to my ankles with any luck.”
“Sure thing,” he says, reaching back in that ultra-sexy way to yank his shirt up and off in one fell swoop. Then he holds it out for me, and I reach for it. As soon as my fingers touch it, he jerks it away and tosses it out beside my dress. “Actually, why bother? It’s sopping wet. You don’t want to put it on anyway.”
My eyes are wide as saucers. I’m pretty sure my jaw is dropped so low my chin is skimming the surface of the water. “I did want it, you cow! Now look what you’ve done. You’re there, all nude and glorious and tan, and I haven’t got a stitch of clothing to put on. We’re basically in a porno!”
He grins. “Want my jeans?”
“Oh har har. Funny guy. Sure, give me those and let me put them on so I don’t moon everyone and give them a fright on my way out of the pool.”
At the depth we’re standing in, his chest is up out of the water; meanwhile, I’m up to my neck, basically treading water to stay alive. It’s getting a bit difficult as I’ve got the upper body strength of an infant. He sees me starting to struggle and reaches out for my hand, dragging me toward the shallow end. I let him, right up until my breasts are about to crest the water, and then I yank my hand back.
“That’s enough,