A Little Massage Therapy Teaser...

From the Desktop of Bella Swan
Sunday, August 22

Edward Cullen’s bed is king-sized with a sturdy, squeak-free frame and wrought-iron headboard. Its firm, comfortable mattress is fitted with 400-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets, feather pillows and a down comforter, all in varying shades of dusky blue that make his eyes look like the sea when he’s lying in it.

I know this because I spent the majority of the last twenty-four hours there.

If I could, I would make that bed my permanent place of residence. I would have every meal delivered and conduct all business from my laptop while firmly ensconced in that king-sized lap of luxury. I would leave only for quick trips to the bathroom to take care of life’s little necessities as they arose, or to enjoy long, languid showers and baths with Edward before we retired back to our four-cornered sanctuary. My perfect world would consist mainly of these three staples: Me, Edward, and Edward’s Bed.

I never thought I would describe a bed that large as “cozy,” but Edward made it so. Even in his sleep, he ignored its spaciousness in favor of curling himself around me and grasping me to him as if I were a body pillow. He sighed and snuffled on my shoulder; he snored softly into my hair. His arm took possession of my waist; then my hip; then my right breast. His legs were restless and unhappy unless they were tangled with mine. Wherever I moved in my percale cocoon, Edward unconsciously followed. Like a heat-seeking missile he honed in on my body and took it prisoner all night long… both sleeping and awake.