Speaking of which…

‘Speaking of things I’ve been asking for…’ Emma rolls her eyes, but can’t help blushing slightly. ‘Yeah, you know what I’m talking about. Has it come yet?’

‘I don’t know,’ Emma says primly, although her eyes are sparkling. ‘But I did pay for next-day delivery, so, probably, yes. By the time we get back.’

You punch the air at that, scaring a couple of birds who erupt fluttering out of the branches overhead. ‘See? Someone’s definitely watching over us. Well, me, anyway.’

‘I think if there is a God, she certainly has better things to do than enable your filthy fantasies,’ Emma tells you, but she’s laughing. ‘Honestly… boys. It’s just a metal bikini! You’ve seen me in bikinis before.’

‘Yeah… but this one’s special.’ You sling an arm carelessly around her shoulders, loving how you can do that now, loving how she’s yours. ‘It’s **** Emma, man! Tonight’s gonna be fucking fantastic.’

Emma’s small hand reaches up to your chin, and she tips it down to kiss you. ‘Better behave, then,’ she breathes against your lips. ‘At least until tonight.’

You smile, kissing her again and again, till she’s breathless and you’re breathless and you’re both laughing unsteadily. ‘Trust me, I can’t wait to tap that. I mean, tap that bottomless well of love and respect that’s been building inside my cock.’

Emma giggles, nose bumping against yours. ‘You’re incorrigible,’ she murmurs, not sounding surprised in the least.

‘Yeah.’ You kiss her one more time, drawing it out, savouring every moment with this perfect girl in this perfect place. ‘You love it, though.’

‘I love you.’ Emma kisses you once more, lightly, then bounds up and offers you her hand. ‘Come on, then. If I’m doing this at all, I’m doing it right… and it’ll take at least half an hour to plait my hair properly.’

You let her pull you along, aware only of a rising tide of warmth that threatens to overwhelm you, to fill you up like helium and carry you away on the breeze. Every time you look at her, it’s like the first time; every time you see her, she’s still Emma Watson.

Your Emma Watson. Beautiful and brown-haired and funny and sweet… and yours, all yours.

You laugh out loud, and Emma pauses, turning around in confusion. ‘Sorry? Did I say something stupid?’

You shake your head, unable to put it into words exactly. ‘No. I just love you, Emma. I love you so fucking much. Sometimes I feel like my heart’s about to burst. That’s all.’

Emma looks touched and embarrassed and a little bit smug all at the same time.

‘I love you too, you silly creature,’ she says tenderly, squeezing your hand. ‘Now come on. My mother’s staying at that hotel, and if they deliver that bikini to the wrong Ms. Watson, you’ll be disinvited from Christmas and I’ll be disowned.’

‘Worth it,’ you say, laughing. Emma just shakes her head, unable to keep a smile off her face.

‘Oh, hush…’

THE END

( FOR NOW...)