7 Years Bad Sex (4 page)

‘On the contrary. I’m trying to remember whether we included a skydiving option in our cruise package.’

‘Skydiving?’ Casey threw her napkin at him. ‘Now, I’ll do a lot of things for love, but I won’t do that. If you want to go skydiving, I’ll watch from the safety of the boat.’

‘Only kidding.’ Alex held up his hands to appease his wife. ‘But it sure looks inviting, this blue sky.’

‘Do you remember that love heart in the sky yesterday?’

Alex nodded. ‘That was quite something. I hope somebody caught it on video.’

Casey sat up straight. ‘Now there’s an idea. Why didn’t I think of this before?’

‘Think of what?’ Alex was confounded by his wife’s conversational hopscotch.

‘When we were looking at that love heart, something bizarre happened. Remember, we talked about it? Like a mini-earthquake or something, only nobody else seemed bothered.’

‘Yes, I remember. And?’

‘If we could find that moment on video, maybe we’ll hear that rumble again, and then I can stop fretting about whether I imagined it or not.’

‘I see!’ Alex finally caught up with her idea. ‘One of the crew was doing our official video, wasn’t he? Maybe we can ask to take a look.’

‘Do let’s!’ Casey got to her feet excitedly. ‘It’ll be fun.’

 

Twenty minutes later, Alex and Casey were ensconced in the yacht’s cinema room watching the video of their own wedding.

‘This is creepy,’ Alex commented after a few minutes. ‘It’s like watching someone else’s big event. Yet it’s me and you.’

Casey smiled. ‘You should be used to seeing yourself in videos by now.’

‘I’ll never get used to that. Oh, hush, there’s your dad’s speech.’

Alex fell silent as they listened to the Father-of-the-Bride’s speech all over again. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that Casey was biting her nails, and he nudged her to stop. Right at that moment, she bounced up and down in her seat and pointed at the screen. ‘Look, it’s Sasha’s turn, and the love heart must be coming up.’

Indeed it was. Alex took the remote control and turned the sound right up. The camera panned from Sasha to himself and Casey and then up to the sky to capture the love heart. There were the
oohs
and
aahs
of the guests as well as his and Casey’s own voices in the background. The camera abandoned the sky and focused back on the happy couple. Alex watched Casey leaning back in her chair, eyes fixed on the sky. He watched himself clinking glasses with Casey and then sipping at his champagne, Casey still looking to the sky but taking a drink from her own glass. He watched her tilting back and saw his hand reaching out to steady her chair. He could hear his voice saying ‘steady on.’ But in all of that, he didn’t hear an earthquake rumble.

‘Go back,’ Casey instructed. ‘We must have missed it.’

So Alex tracked back, then back again, and back again one more time. After the fifteenth time of revisiting that scene, Alex decided enough was enough and switched off the projector.

‘It was a grand moment,’ he declared. ‘But do you know? In all that time we were toasting each other, you never once looked at me.’

Casey gave a start. ‘Didn’t I?’ She wrapped her arms around Alex’s neck and looked him deeply in the eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Alex. But I’m looking at you now!’

‘Too late,’ Alex joked. ‘The damage is done. I’m sulking. We’ll have to have a pretend toast later.’

‘With pleasure.’ Casey winked at him. ‘And now, let’s have a swim.’

‘In the pool or in the sea?’

‘Tough call. How about both, one after the other?’

‘Sounds like a plan.’

Casey squealed with excitement. ‘And who knows, maybe we’ll even see some dolphins or something.’

Chapter Three:

 

Oysters in the Sea

 

~Casey~

 

I can’t believe it’s our last night already!

With a delicate flick of her wrist, Casey put the last pearl-topped hairpin into place to secure her elaborate up-do. She sat back and allowed herself a moment of self-admiration in the mirror. After nearly three weeks in the Mediterranean sun, her skin had assumed a gentle, glowing tan. This was most unusual as her fair complexion was normally given to burning and flaking, but she thought it suited her. And, if she said so herself, her green eyes sparkled greener than ever, and there were natural highlights in her hair that gave it texture and finesse.

She picked up her necklace and secured it around her neck. A quick lashing of mascara completed her look, and she was finally satisfied. She hoped she would blow Alex away. They would be leaving the yacht in the morning, but tonight, they were booked into an exclusive seafood restaurant in St Tropez, right where their journey had started on their wedding day. The little launch would take them out there shortly. This was going to be the rousing finale to an extraordinary cruise—hopefully rousing in
every
way. Casey frowned at her reflection.

They had really had the most incredible honeymoon. They had swum with dolphins, seen the sights, and eaten the most fabulous paella in a tiny restaurant in old town Barcelona. They had taken an island walk around Mallorca and gone diving in the open sea. They had explored Palermo, Rome, and Monaco. They had eaten more exquisite food and drunk more fabulous wine than she had ever dared dream. They had crammed enjoyment into every minute, every second of this cruise. They had done absolutely everything a newly married couple could ever hope to do, and more. Except for one thing.

They hadn’t made love. Casey frowned more deeply but made an effort to fix a smile on her face instead. Showing her concern simply wouldn’t do. By some kind of unspoken agreement, she and Alex were living in a state of denial. The fact that sex wasn’t happening was
not
a concern. They were simply too busy during the day and too exhausted at night from all the fresh air, activity, food, and wine. It was no wonder they couldn’t get romantic in any kind of physical sense, and nothing to worry about.

Yeah, right
.

Casey rearranged the bottles and pots of makeup on her dressing table to distract herself. Alex would be coming out of the shower any second now. He would throw on his suit, and off they would go. Out one last time. And one last time the hope of ‘having sex later’ would be colouring their every move. She sighed.

For the first week of the cruise, they had tried everything they could think of pretty much morning, noon, and night. They had got
terribly
excited. They had talked dirty to each other until they were practically frothing at the mouth, then dashed off to their cabin, ripped off their clothes (if they were wearing any to begin with), and got down to it. And the very second they had made physical contact, everything evaporated. Everything.
Every single time
.

It was like they had been cursed. Casey had even done an Internet search on ‘honeymoon sex curse’ in a quiet moment, but she had drawn a blank and laughed at herself.
What a ridiculous notion.

Anyway. There it was. They hadn’t made love as a married couple yet, not once. They
nearly
had, but not completely.

The last time they had tried, a few days ago, they had laid off the booze, rested most of the day, eaten in moderation, and pulled out all the stops in their mutual repertoire. They had snuggled in bed and gone through the motions, and for a few blissful moments, Casey had been convinced they would have a breakthrough.

‘Oh my God,’ Alex had whispered into her ear. ‘This is so good. I swear the earth is moving.’

Casey had felt the same way. Great waves of excitement had rocked her body, his body, their bed, until she thought she would expire with passion. Her vision had dimmed and flared, and fireworks went off behind her closed eyelids. It had been quite extraordinary, and they had come close, so close, so very close.

Until they both started feeling very poorly indeed. For what Casey had thought were waves of excitement were, quite literally, waves. Huge, enormous storm waves, in fact. The yacht had been caught in a sudden squall. Casey and Alex had spent the rest of the evening panting heavily for all the wrong reasons while trying their hardest to keep the nausea down.

At least that time they had an excuse, an external reason for the abrupt ending of their sexual endeavours, and the burden of failure lay not with them. Casey had breathed a big sigh of relief, and she suspected Alex had done the same. They hadn’t tried since.

But tonight, expectation was in the air again, and Casey wasn’t sure whether to be excited or terrified.

‘Wow! Casey, you look amazing.’

Alex interrupted her train of thought, and she snapped back as if from a trance. She touched a hand to her up-do and smiled.

‘Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.’

That was the understatement of the year. Alex looked simply edible in his dinner jacket, white shirt, and ruby-red tie. Even in full black-tie attire, he was every inch the rock star, and Casey could well imagine the day when he would collect the first of many Brit awards or Grammies for Blue Heart.

Alex grinned. ‘Let’s go and celebrate the end of our honeymoon in style.’ He gave a bow and held out a hand to Casey.

Casey smiled back and resolved to banish her uncertainty and worry. It wouldn’t matter. It
didn’t
matter. They had their whole lives ahead of them. There was plenty of time, and anyway, sex wasn’t everything.

 

~Alex~

 

Sex isn’t everything. Sex isn’t everything. Sex isn’t everything.

Alex crossed his legs and tried to ignore the arousal that was sending his heart rate into the stratosphere. He couldn’t be this horny—not here, not now. They were ensconced at a little table in a fancy and very expensive restaurant by the waterside in St Tropez, having just finished the most delicious main course. And Casey had never looked more alluring, more gorgeous, more inviting than this moment. Three weeks of holiday had done her the world of good, and she was positively glowing. He really wanted to ravish her there and then. It had been too long since they had made love—not for want of trying, though—and he felt he would go crazy if he had to wait for
later
.

With sudden determination, he rose to his feet and swiped the dinnerware off the tablecloth in one smooth motion. He took the candlesticks, all three of them complete with burning candles, and placed them on the table next to theirs, ignoring the stunned looks on the faces of the party of four tucking into their Bouillabaisse. Casey giggled, and the sound amplified his arousal.

‘Come here, wench,’ he taunted, and held out a hand to Casey. Casey rose and took his hand across the table.

‘What now?’ she asked, mischief glinting in her eyes.

‘Sit on the table. That’s it. Good. Now up with those legs.’ Alex used his bossy lord-of-the-manor voice, the one he reserved for role-playing in the bedroom, and Casey immediately assumed a role of her own, the genteel ingénue.

‘Why, I don’t know what you’re doing, kind sir, but you’ve certainly got me confused with someone else.’ She simpered and winked.

Alex pretended to ignore her. ‘Spread them.’

Casey did as instructed, and Alex suppressed a gasp when he saw she wasn’t wearing any knickers.
Bless her.
She was obviously as needy as he was. He positioned himself between her legs and unzipped his trousers.
He
was hot and hard and instantly sprang forth to escape from his fabric prison.

‘My, that’s a mighty big weapon you’ve got there.’ Casey switched to Bond-girl mode. ‘Will you show me how you use it?’

‘With pleasure.’

‘Merci, monsieur. Ça va.’

The unfamiliar male voice cut through Alex’s fantasy like a knife. Alex required several seconds to reacquaint himself with reality. A waiter was beating a hasty backwards retreat from their table, bowing all the while, and Casey was shaking violently behind the napkin she was stuffing into her mouth.

Feeling dizzy, disoriented, and somewhat disappointed, Alex subtly readjusted his trousers and begged Casey for clarification.

‘What happened? What did he want?’

‘He was asking whether we’re still hungry, and whether we’d like to see the menu again.’ Imitating the waiter’s voice, Casey intoned, ‘“Avez-vous encore faim, M’sieur, Dame?”’

Alex shook his head, still confused. ‘And? What’s so funny about that?’

‘You said…’ Casey snorted. ‘You said…’

‘Go on, woman, spit it out. What did I say?’

‘You said you haven’t had woman yet, or something like that.’

‘I
what
?’

‘You said,’ Casey repeated carefully in between gulps of laughter, ‘“Je n’ai pas encore femme.”’

Alex shook his head. ‘Never.’

‘You did. Where
were
you? Mentally, I mean?’ Casey was hiccupping now. ‘You gave the poor man the fright of his life. He looked at you like you were going to take me on the table, right here.’

Alex grinned and confessed. ‘I was having a rather vivid vision of doing precisely that. But I swear I wasn’t trying to be rude. I was trying to say, “I’m not that hungry anymore”.’

‘I figured. Damn those nasals.’

‘What’s my nose got to do with it?’

‘Not nose. Nasals. Sounds. The sounds that make the difference between “faim” and “femme”. They’re a killer.’ Casey laughed some more.

‘That’ll teach me not to try.’ Alex felt stupid for a moment, but then he succumbed to the funny side.

‘I haven’t had woman yet,’ he gulped. ‘Gosh, what must he be thinking?’

As if on cue, the waiter reappeared. He set down a large plate of fresh oysters on the table and smiled widely.

‘On the ‘ouse. For the ‘oney-mooners.’ He turned and spoke directly to Alex. ‘So you can ‘ave woman tonight.’ He placed air quotation marks around “‘ave”. Alex gaped at him open-mouthed while Casey snorted into her napkin once more.

Alex felt heat rising from the tips of his toes right up his body and into his head. His ears burned with embarrassment. It took him several seconds before he could speak.

‘Did he… Did he think… He didn’t think I was asking for an aphrodisiac, did he?’

Casey lifted her shoulders. She reached across the table to squeeze his hand. ‘I wouldn’t worry about it.’ She dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘Maybe you’ve inadvertently hit on the secret phrase to get free oysters in this place.’

Alex was still in shock. ‘But this is so… it’s so… it’s rude!’

‘Shh,’ Casey admonished him. ‘Now you’re being rude.’ She gave his hand a final stroke before she released her grip and sat back. Tentatively, she poked at one of the oysters with an index finger. The slimy centre of the mollusc quivered at her touch, and Casey yelped softly. ‘Eurgh! How can people eat these?’

Alex cleared his throat. It was time to reclaim his suave gentleman-of-the-world act, and to heck with what the waiter thought. He had never eaten oysters before, but he had seen it done in the movies, and they were supposed to stimulate sexual activity. Perhaps this was exactly what was needed. He eyed the slippery creatures in what he hoped was a knowledgeable manner and refused to think about whether they were alive or dead. He had a feeling they were raw, but that didn’t really bear too much contemplation.

‘What you do is this,’ he began confidently. ‘First, you make sure the oyster is fully detached from his shell.’ He picked up one of the oysters and bravely jiggled the meat with a tiny fork.