Thank you to the wonderful Sunflower Fran for pre-reading and doing some beta work. All remaining mistakes are mine.
oOo
Whatever had weighed Edward down back in London seemed to have dissipated, and seeing him so obviously happy and relaxed made Bella's heart sing.
They were into the second week of their stay, his birthday just around the corner, doing nothing but sun bathing and walking, sleeping, shopping, cooking and making love. He was the tenderest man she'd ever known, the most thoughtful and sweet.
He showed his love with small gestures and sexy whispers, with hungry kisses and gentle touches. Waking her with a steaming mug of tea, or picking flowers for her. Feeding her ice cream, and wrapping her in his jacket when she was cold.
Bella leant back in the beach chair and smiled as she considered her luck: she certainly had the most perfect boyfriend on earth. However silly the term boyfriend sounded in reference to Edward, who was very much a grown man.
He was sketching, sitting in the sand by her feet, his head against her knee.
She reached out and ran her fingers through his messy hair. He needed a haircut; it was just at that stage where strands would fall into his eyes. He was wearing board shorts and a white T-shirt, his bare feet buried in the sand. He'd gotten rather tan over the past ten days, and there were blondish-bronze highlights in his hair.
Caressing his ear, she felt him lean into her hand, the stubble of his cheek tickling her. With the hair and not having shaved for a few days, he was looking wild and free and sexy.
"Hey." Green eyes sparkled up to her.
"Hey." She smiled.
He grabbed her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers, one after the other.
She caught a glimpse at his sketchbook, and it wasn't at all what she'd expected. Instead of foamy waves and sand and fluffy clouds, she spotted herself, spread on white sheets, her expression enigmatic, her pink nipples a prominent aspect of the sketch.
"Edward," she murmured breathily, surprised that a glimpse at how he was viewing her would could cause such an arousing effect.
Realizing that she'd found him out, Edward turned his head. His grin was downright cocky.
"Like what you see?"
"I wouldn't say I'm turned on by myself," she whispered, and swallowed. "But…"
"But?" He softly bit her knee.
"If that's how you see me…" She needed to swallow again.
"I do," he rasped, his lips now near the inside of her thigh, his eyes urging her to go on.
"That's rather… hot…"
"Yeah," Edward murmured against her skin. "Yeah, baby. You are." He kissed her. "Very. Hot."
"Can we go back to the cottage now?"
She tried to silence her moan, but didn't quite succeed.
.
It was the night before his birthday, and Bella was preparing an asparagus risotto, bustling around in the kitchen and humming along to the radio.
She'd be sorry to leave the day after tomorrow, and also a tiny bit worried that Edward might not be able to maintain his good mood. He'd been so carefree here, open and cheerful and happy.
She wasn't going to let her worries mar the occasion, though, as she stirred more broth into the dish and eyed the clock above the fridge. Edward had gone to fetch some fresh Parmesan, which she'd forgotten earlier – because her brain had still been mushy after that third orgasm he'd given her…
Just as she started remembering their afternoon in detail, she heard the front door, and moments later, his steps as he entered the kitchen.
"Hey, darling, what took you so –"
She turned around.
Edward was holding a magnum bottle of Dom Perignon, grinning happily. His face was flushed, and he was swaying slightly.
oOo
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