“Yes.” I nod. That’s the perfect description. A social event. Where everyone gets naked, screws each other, and whips and bondage gear galore come out to play. After they’ve had an indulgent three-course meal, obviously. “Exactly like a social event,” I add on a frown. I can see her face in my mind’s eye. It’s horrified.

“When?” she asks over a sigh.

I cage her in my arms and legs, clinging tightly, a silent message that I will never let her go, no matter her reaction. No matter her disgust. “Two weeks today.”

Fourteen days and counting, brother.

“You’ll come,” I whisper, sucking her ear, licking the shell, smiling when she stiffens and wriggles, her skin gliding perfectly over mine.

She inhales. “Stop.”

“No. Say you’ll come.” I’ve got her. Water is drenching the floor, her fruitless fighting doing nothing but making a mess.

“No.” She laughs, and I increase my torture, breathing heavily into her ear, my hand slipping down her body to her tickle spot. “Stop,” she yelps.

“Please,” I whisper softly, kissing the soft, sweet spot below her lobe. She can’t ruin my plans before they’re even in motion. She just can’t, and if that means begging and giving up today with her, I’m here for it.

She stills and thinks, just for a moment. “Okay, I’ll come.”

The pressure releases, just a little. That was supposed to be the easy part. I drop my face into her neck and take a hit of life. Thank you. Thank you so, so much.

Silence settles, and I rest my head back, cherishing this moment of peace. “I’ve never had a bath before.”

“Never?” she replies, surprised.

“No, never.” Baths leave too much time alone to do nothing but think. And, worse than that, they remind me of the times I used to give Rosie her bedtime bath. The water no deeper than a few inches. The bubbles overflowing. Her little body lost amid the puffs of white. Her laugh. Her smile. The way she looked at me like I wasn’t a hopeless wanker. “I’m a shower man,” I whisper, my throat tight. “But I think I might be a bath man now.”

“I love having a bath.”

“Me too,” I breathe. “But only if you’re in it with me.” Never alone. “It’s a good job the designer of this place anticipated the need for a big one.”

She laughs, and it’s golden. “I think she did well.”

“I wonder if she ever considered being in it?”

“No, she didn’t.” Her words are wistful. Like me, she can’t believe she’s here either, although for entirely different reasons. I drop my chin and observe her wet hair covering every inch of my chest. Her legs rubbing against mine. Her hands lying across my forearms where they’re holding her.