“It’s not on you,” she says softly.
“No, but I should have exerted more influence over him.”
“Edward, you have old brother syndrome. You are not responsible for everything your siblings do.”
I arch a brow. “Old brother syndrome? Funny, I don’t remember covering that in medical school. And what’s the prescribed treatment for this condition?”
“Fuck the younger brother’s ex.”
I groan, tipping my head back as she dissolves into laughter. “Christ, Daisy.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, clearly not sorry at all.
She pauses. “What would you do if it was him?”
I hesitate, my mind turning over the question. “I don’t know,” I admit. “It wouldn’t be good for him to know right now. I’m not concerned about Charlie, but Sophia . . .”
“I think she’d be fine. We’re not doing anything wrong.”
“I don’t believe she would take it well.”
She looks momentarily offended, like she wants to argue, but I know my sister. When it comes to things like this, she clings to what she thinks is right, and even if I don’t agree with her, I understand her enough to know she won’t see it that way.
“Hey,” I say softly, “I’m sick of talking about other people. Charlie, Sophia . . . let’s just focus on you and me.”
She tilts her head, considering, then smiles.
“Us,” she corrects simply.
“Us,” I echo, thinking it doesn’t sound bad at all.
Daisy
We’re sprawled in Edward’s clawfoot tub, steam curling up from the water and fogging the air with lavender-soap smell that’s gone straight to my head. This is leagues better than the BritShop mock bathroom set.
I’m wrapped around a gorgeous man. Life is pretty fucking fantastic right now.
I’m so deliriously happy after our lovely, relaxing day that I managed to coax him into having a soak. Might as well get some use out of his ostentatious tub.
My legs are snugly wrapped around his hips, skin sliding deliciously against skin, while my toes playfully brush against the coarse hair on his thighs.
He’s reclined against me, back pressed to my chest, head tipped back just enough for his damp hair to tickle my collarbone. Droplets trail down his neck, collecting where our bodies meet.
He’s currently worshipping my ankles, kneading with those manly fingers and untangling knots I didn’t even know were there.
One of my hands is buried in his wet, messy mop of hair, tugging just enough to make him shift against me. The other is sprawled across his chest, fingers tracing firm muscle under soft skin.
Edward hasthebest nipples. They’re just begging to be licked. And don’t even get me started on his abs.
But the real prize is that huge cock just hanging there.
It was already impressive before, but now? With the water making everything bigger? It’s like a fucking sea monster.
I am never—never—leaving this bath. If I could hire someone to just stand here and periodically let the water out, then refill it with hot water, I would. I’d happily prune into an old woman.
I close my eyes, exhale the most contented sigh of my entire existence, and let a lovesick smile take over my face. This might just be the best day of my entire fucking life.
We can make this work. I’m so sure of it. Everything will be fine when it comes out in the open. No drama, no unexpected chaos.
