“Oh boy… Someone’s in trouble…” I winked, he stalked. Mouth parted, he ran a rough hand through damp hair. “Aunt Mary you better get me out of this thing. He looks like he’s going to eat me!” She peeked over purple dotted glasses, long pins balanced between her lips.
“You’re such a romantic, old soul, Edward,” she mumbled, teasing. He fell flush against the mirrored wall behind, blowing a steady exhale. “What is that look… something between puppy dog cute and smug sexy?”
“It’s smug alright… like… I’m the luckiest son of a bitch in Chicago.” I gasped, pouting, overtly dramatic.
“Only Chicago?” A pin pricked to punish, I jumped. “Oww…” Mary gathered, tossing tools into a white basket. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” As she rushed to disappear, Edward moved, melting against. We stared, flirting, eyes heavy in the full length mirror. His hands gently grazing down my exposed throat, kisses peppered along bare shoulders.
“This is fucking torture, Bella,” he whispered.