Chapter Three A ‘Not So Honey’moon
~ Casey ~
The cabin was filled with air, light, and the sound of waves lapping against the hull of the yacht. Casey opened her eyes and stretched luxuriously. She smiled as she recalled the previous day. She was married. They were on their honeymoon! Life was awesome.
Her smile widened as she took in the view. From her position in the bed, all she could see were oak-panelled walls, white curtains, and the pure azure of the sky stretching above the Mediterranean Sea. What a perfect way to wake up.
She stretched some more and reached out a hand to find Alex next to her. He was still asleep, breathing deeply and contentedly — or so it seemed to Casey — and she half turned to drink in the presence of her husband. His dark curly hair was tousled with sleep, and a few locks fell across his forehead and over his closed eyes. Casey admired his smooth, broad chest. The nobbles of his clavicles jutted out prominently, and Casey swooned. She loved that hint of vulnerability in a big, strong, powerful bloke. One of Alex’s arms was flung back onto the pillow as if to show off the intricate band of tattoo that graced his biceps, and Casey resisted the temptation to touch it. She longed for his arms around her body. Perhaps it was time to finish off what they had left undone last night?
Muffled sounds from above deck suggested that the crew were up and working. It made sense, Casey mused. The yacht was evidently in motion, and they were probably already on their way to Spain. Barcelona was their next destination, and Casey was looking forward to seeing the Font Màgica and Park Güell. But that would be later that day, or even the next day. They had no fixed schedule, no timetable, and they were taking the stops on their bespoke honeymoon cruise as their mood and the weather moved them. So there was plenty of time for some nuptial nookie.
She jiggled her body closer to Alex until her nose nearly touched his.
‘Alex?’
An unintelligible grunt rewarded her opening gambit, and she tried again.
‘Mr Morgan, are you awake?’
Alex peeled open one eye. ‘Not quite.’
‘Can you make yourself awake?’
‘Do I have to?’
Casey chuckled. Her newly-baked husband was clearly hung-over. ‘We have some unfinished business, remember?’
Alex opened his other eye. A lazy smile spread across his face.
‘I remember. Good morning, MrsMorgan.’ He reached up and pulled her head to his. His lips pursed in readiness for a kiss, but Casey pulled back. She wasn’t ready.
Alex raised his eyebrows. ‘What’s wrong?’
Casey felt herself blushing and stalling for time. ‘I need a pee.’
‘You need a pee?’
‘And I want to brush my teeth.’ Casey found herself gabbling. ‘I probably reek. All that garlic of yesterday, you know?’
Alex laughed. ‘I didn’t want to say anything but you do have a touch of bad breath. Go on, I’ll wait for you here.’
‘Okay. I’ll quickly . . .’ Casey pointed at the bathroom, then made a dash for it.
Within seconds, Casey paced up and down in the compact luxury bathroom, observing herself in the mirror as her mouth was frothing. She couldn’t face Alex. She couldn’t. She wanted to, but she couldn’t. Her mind said yes, and her body said no. What the heck was going on?
Behind her, the shower beckoned invitingly. Oh for a nice hot steamy shower!
With a start, Casey realised that that was it. A shower: the solution, the answer, the remedy.
She finished brushing her teeth and started running the shower. Before she stepped in, she opened the bathroom door and called to Alex.
‘Oh lover boy! Come slather me in lather!’
This was an old joke of theirs going back to the very first time they had coupled after a gig. It had been in a dingy backstage shower room with peeling paint and tiles that refused to stick to the walls. They had covered each other in a lather of shower gel until their bodies had been too slippery to hold, and yet somehow they had managed to go all the way — with cataclysmic effects. Casey’s loins danced eagerly at the memory. Yes, this was the way forward.
She stepped into the shower and stood under the powerful jets, waiting for Alex to appear. At last, there he was!
He sauntered into the bathroom looking like a Roman god, all dark broody looks — and with a vital part of his anatomy very much standing to attention. Casey whistled, and Alex bowed.
‘Morning glory,’ he laughed. ‘Let me see to you, madam.’
Casey grinned. ‘I do like it when you talk rough.’
Alex pulled open the door and stepped into the shower with Casey. Immediately, his arms snaked around her waist from behind, and he cupped her breasts in his hands. She could feel his arousal pressing into her buttocks, and she shuddered in excitement. I’m back in business.
Alex grabbed some shower gel off the shelf and started slathering her body, working the lotion into her skin with delicious circular motions, and Casey let out little moans of pleasure. Yet curiously, the more he rubbed, the less excited she became. Again. In fact, the touch of his hands was becoming downright irritating, and Casey was confused.
She wriggled her soapy body out of his grasp to face him and snuggled her head against his neck. Maybe if he focused on her back for a while, things would stop being strange. Obligingly, he started stroking her rear, but the movement was perfunctory, almost robotic, as if Alex, too, had lost interest. Now that she thought of it, she realised that his hardness had subsided again.
Casey drew back and searched Alex’s face for a clue of what he was feeling. His eyes were half closed, but his face mirrored her own confusion and something else . . . a hint of blind panic. Their in-shower, soap-extravaganza routine had never failed before. As an isolated event, she might have discounted this as a fluke. But on the heels of last night’s missed consummation, she couldn’t help but feel disconcerted. Had they lost the knack?
A little voice piped up in her head. Don’t make a big deal out of it. Simply get on with it and get out. Pretend nothing’s happened. Or rather, pretend nothing’s not happened.
‘Great,’ Casey mentally talked to herself. ‘Now I’m hearing voices, too. Maybe I’m going mad.’
But she recognised the wisdom of what her inner voice had suggested. She fixed a smile on her face and kissed Alex smartly, if briefly, on the mouth.
‘Do you know what?’ she chirped brightly, quite possibly a touch too brightly. ‘I’m starving. Shall we have some breakfast?’
* * *
~ Alex ~
Awkward. Awkward-awkward-awkward!
Alex gulped. He was having breakfast with Casey at a beautifully laid table on the upper deck, and all he could see was sex. Vaguely he wondered whether the crew were having a laugh at his expense, but that would involve them knowing, and the implications of that were far too disturbing to contemplate. Most likely the suggestive arrangements were in honour of their honeymoon, their lune de miel. The thoughtful crew on the yacht were French, after all, and everyone knew that the French took this honeymooning business very seriously indeed.
Nonetheless, after everything that had failed to happen between him and Casey so far, he found the sight of the banana rising up proudly between two apples in the fruit bowl faintly disturbing. Ditto for the oranges, which were arranged in pairs just so with their protruding little stalks. He didn’t even want to acknowledge what the melon slices wrapped in Parma ham suggested to him, nor did he understand what this food was doing on the breakfast menu, but there it was.
He sipped his hot strong black coffee and nearly choked when it scalded his tongue. Opposite him, Casey was tucking heartily into a croissant slathered with butter and honey — yes, slathered, there was that word again! — completely oblivious to his inner turmoil.
It’s a temporary blip, he assured himself. It’s got to be. Because, as it happened, he could feel himself growing excited right there and then, so there was obviously nothing wrong with his equipment. Briefly, he toyed with the idea of seducing Casey on the deck, in full view of the crew should they care to watch, but he dismissed the notion. Two failed unions in less than twenty-four hours were enough for anyone to bear. He would ensure that next time was perfect, but he needed some space to work out how he would engineer that perfection. Meanwhile, he resolved to put on his cheeriest face lest Casey should pick up on his worry. After all, they had a honeymoon cruise to enjoy.
As though reading his mind, Casey flashed him one of those dazzling smiles of hers, and his heart lifted. She loved him, and everything would be all right.
‘I love you,’ Casey said right on cue. ‘Do you know how gorgeous you are?’
‘I love you too. Another croissant?’
‘Ooh, aren’t you naughty?’ Casey’s hand was poised but wavered. ‘I shouldn’t really. But heck, only for today.’ She accepted the pastry and smothered it in honey.
‘Mmmmh mmmmh mmmm, delicious,’ she mumbled through the crumbs.
Alex chose a mini brioche and poured more coffee.
‘What’s the plan for today?’
Casey chewed and swallowed before she could answer. ‘Total relaxation,’ she offered. ‘I think we’re due in Barcelona tonight, or maybe tomorrow morning. I’m not quite sure. Meanwhile, there’s the pool, or we could take a dip in the actual sea. Maybe use the jet skis or the little launch for a jaunt of our own . . .’ She picked up a leaflet from the table and studied it for a moment.
‘There’s also an on-board cinema, or we could have a disco just for the two of us . . .’
‘Wow.’ Alex grinned. ‘We haven’t stinted on this cruise, have we?’
‘Ha!’ Casey chuckled. ‘Luckily signing that record deal helped pay for most of it, but we’ll never get this opportunity again. Three weeks on a yacht in the Med. Just the two of us. Stopping at random ports, going diving, hill walking, sightseeing, eating lots of beautiful food — it’s like heaven on earth!’
‘There’s a song about that,’ Alex joked.
‘I know. But you could always write one about it too, if you feel inspired.’
‘Maybe I will.’ Alex leaned back in his deckchair and stared into the sky. ‘All this blue. It’s so vast.’
‘You’re not going all deep and philosophical on me, are you?’ Casey teased.
‘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. ‘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.’