We both slipped into the cramped changing room. Without a hint of hesitation, Bella peeled off every last piece of her clothing, letting it drop to the floor until she stood completely naked in front of me—curves on full display, skin flushed with anticipation.
"Hey Ragnar," she purred, running her fingers through her hair and giving me that slow, seductive smile, "hand me the bikini."
I passed her the scandalous white micro-bikini. She stepped into it right there, shimmying the thin straps up her hips, adjusting the tiny triangles over her breasts until they barely covered anything.
She turned to the full-length mirror bolted to the wall and checked herself out, arching her back slightly. The white fabric gleamed against her skin, the cutouts exposing almost her entire midriff, the strings digging just enough into her flesh to make everything look obscene in the best way.
