7 Years Bad Sex (6 page)

‘The junction box to your house has blown,’ the electricity distributor informed him rather too cheerfully. ‘We’ll get the engineers out to you now. Don’t worry, mate, you’ll be connected up again in a few hours.’

So while they were waiting for the engineers, Alex found himself pacing the floor, emptying out the drawers of spoiled food from the freezer, washing them in cold water—
yuck
—and pacing the floor once more. Casey went to get their Thai takeaway meal and wine. When she returned, they lit some candles and ate their meal at the kitchen table, all the while keeping an ear out for any signs of builders showing up outside.

But it wasn’t until nearly ten in the evening that the building crew arrived at last. Instantly, the street’s peace and quiet was shattered by much drilling, digging, and rumbustious swearing.

‘This is a nightmare,’ Alex complained. ‘All I wanted was to come home from our honeymoon, unpack, unwind, and…’

‘Shh. I know.’ Casey tried to soothe him. ‘It’s not exactly what I had in mind either.’ She smiled. ‘Although if the power doesn’t come back on anytime soon, it’ll be a candlelit evening all the way. That’s quite romantic, don’t you think?’

Alex did a double take. ‘What are you saying?’

Casey purred. ‘We had a nice dinner. We have more wine, we can’t watch telly, and we’re all alone…’

‘Bar the builders outside.’

‘Yeah, but they’re
outside
. And they’re busy.’ Casey walked around the room and blew out all the candles, plunging the lounge into near darkness. Now the only illumination came from the mobile lighting rig the building crew had erected by the hole they were digging.

‘We’re inside, in the dark,’ Casey continued. ‘They can’t see us, even though we can see them. Don’t you think that’s exciting?’

‘Hm.’ Alex laughed softly. ‘I suppose it could be.’

‘Come here.’ Casey tugged at his hands. ‘That’s better.’ She wrapped her arms around him and stroked his back.

‘Kinky,’ Alex murmured into her hair. He couldn’t believe she was going for it.

‘Opportunistic,’ Casey mumbled back. ‘They’ll be hours yet.’

‘Want to go upstairs?’

‘No!’

Alex was surprised by her emphatic reaction, but he didn’t bat an eyelid.

Casey softened her response. ‘No. Let’s not go upstairs. Let’s just… you know. Here. Now.’

She reached up and kissed him on the mouth. Faced with such persuasive tactics, Alex wasn’t up to much resistance. He returned her kiss eagerly. Within seconds, their hands where all over each other, stroking, encouraging, urging on. They were breathing heavily and swaying like a tree caught in a storm.

Somewhere at the back of Alex’s mind, he began to wonder about logistics. Lying down would be much easier than standing up. Or sitting down, at the very least. Perhaps he could manoeuvre Casey back round toward the sofa?

He gently turned his wife, and Casey yielded to his touch.

‘Mmmm,’ she moaned. ‘I love you!’

‘I love you too,’ he replied. He lifted her arms and tugged at her T-shirt, trying to lift it over her head. She wriggled and shimmied, stretching her arms up high to help him. Alex groaned appreciatively as he caught sight of her boobs encased in a black lacy bra.

‘Hello, girls,’ he breathed. ‘I’ll get you out of there shortly.’

Casey giggled. Right at that moment, the lights came on.

‘What the fu—’

Alex dropped Casey’s shirt like it was on fire, and they shrank apart. They blinked at each other in the glare of their ceiling lights, utterly confused.

The foreman appeared at the lounge window and knocked sharply. ‘You’re back on now,’ he shouted.

His crew clapped and cheered, with a few wolf whistles thrown in for good measure. Shouts of ‘more, more!’ could be heard, and it took Alex a few seconds to work out that those were directed at him and Casey. They were on display like mannequins in a shop window. The foreman waved, and the crew clapped louder.

‘I think we have an audience,’ Casey remarked, sounding half embarrassed and half amused. She blushed furiously and raked her hands through her hair as if to restore her decency.

‘Looks like it,’ Alex agreed, feeling mortified. ‘How embarrassing. What shall we do?’

‘Let’s wave at them. Might as well give them a show.’ Casey grinned and waggled her fingers in the direction of the windows. Alex followed her example, and they elicited a round of applause.

Casey exploded with laughter and took a bow for the builders’ benefit. ‘Just imagine,’ she said to Alex. ‘It could have been so much worse. At least all they got to see was a bit of skin. Two minutes later…’

‘I suppose you’re right.’ Alex enfolded her in his arms, and they watched as the building crew lost interest in them. Instead, they began packing up their tools and finally left.

‘Do you reckon it’s maybe time for bed?’ Casey eventually suggested, when all was quiet and deserted outside once more.

‘Bed? As in
bed?
’ Alex wondered:
Did she really have it in her to finish this?

‘Err—no. Maybe not. I think that moment has gone. Sorry.’ Casey smiled apologetically. ‘It must be nearly midnight. I was thinking of bed, as in sleep?’

‘Sleep would be good,’ Alex concurred readily. His mojo had completely evaporated, and he wasn’t in the mood to resurrect it. It had been a long day, too long. ‘I’m all for oblivion.’

 

~Casey~

 

‘Right. That’s another load in.’ Casey stood back with a satisfied smile and pushed the button. Water sloshed into the washing machine, and the drum starting rotating. Her darks got lost in soapy suds, and she turned her attention to folding the load that had just come out of the tumble dryer.

Alex was out shopping, and Casey was tackling her various pink jobs. She grabbed her laundry basket and trudged upstairs to return clean garments to their rightful places in the wardrobe.

‘I’m such a housewife,’ she laughed at herself. ‘Well, when I’m not seducing my husband in full view of the building crew. Have I always been that way, or does that come with being married?’

She cast her mind back to her and Alex’s relationship before the wedding and diagnosed that, in truth, they had divided chores into ‘his’ and ‘hers’ pretty early on. Probably they simply followed a natural order of things, a kind of Mars-Venus pattern. Although, to be fair, Alex was good at cooking, and he
could
operate the washing machine
and
the dishwasher. Only he was a bit haphazard about filling them properly.

No, Casey concluded, really she was no more domesticated and ‘wifey’ now than before their wedding. She was no different, except for the addition of a ring and a gorgeous husband.
Albeit one who couldn’t perform most of the time!

‘Eek!’ Shocked to the core at the truth that her mind had so blatantly formulated, Casey clapped a hand in front of her mouth.

‘I so totally didn’t think that,’ she declared to thin air. ‘Absolutely not. Nasty thought. Stamp on it, quick.’ She stamped her foot on the floor a couple of times, and the symbolism calmed her down. She couldn’t allow her mind to go that way. It would be non-productive, and anyway, it was only a half truth. Last night, for example, he had been well up for it.

And on the other occasions, the ones where they weren’t being thwarted by external forces, she was in just as much trouble as Alex on the sexual performance front. Maybe they had got a virus. Some rare tropical disease contracted on honeymoon that stopped them from doing it. The can’t-have-sex virus. At this stage, Casey was ready to believe almost anything, regardless of how farfetched it sounded.

‘Nah. You’re being silly.’ She shook her head to clear her thoughts and set about folding up her lingerie. She adored her lingerie drawer. It was full of delicate lacy bras in white and pink, with the odd red and black ones thrown in. Plus, of course, there was her stage gear: the slightly more racy stuff that would show under the shirts she wore when Blue Heart performed.

She picked out her favourite black bra and matching knickers and held them against her body over the clothes she wore, turning this way and that while she looked in the mirror. Now
that
would have been something to show off last night. Maybe she should put these on and wait for Alex to return home with the shopping, wearing nothing but? She could arrange herself on the kitchen table, ready for action…

She pictured his face, and that did it. Quick as lightning, she stripped off her jeans and T-shirt and replaced her underwear with the racier set she had picked out.

‘Why, hello, sultry seductress,’ she murmured. She remembered how much Alex had admired her up-do on that fateful last night of their honeymoon, and with trembling fingers she attempted a quick reconstruction of the style. It didn’t quite work, but the result was probably more suitable for her designs anyway. She looked slightly dishevelled and befittingly come-hither.
Perfect.

She heard a key inserted into the front door, and Alex’s greeting rang out.
Damn it, he was too early.
The kitchen table would see no action again, but maybe she could drape herself onto the stairs in some capacity…

‘Casey?’

‘Up here.’

‘Casey, are you there?’

Alex evidently hadn’t heard her. ‘Up here,’ she repeated, more loudly this time.

‘Excellent. Are you ready to go out? Myles called a band meeting. Apparently it’s urgent. Some kind of crisis with the tour next January.’

Band meeting?

‘What, now?’

‘Yes, now.’

Dammit.
Casey’s pulse raced even faster. If Alex stormed in and saw her in her racy undies, they would both be frustrated. She grabbed her jeans and T-shirt and pulled them back on, dislodging the pins from her hair and shaking out her up-do. She sighed. Their predicament wasn’t only due to them. It was as though circumstances were conspiring against them at every opportunity.
Illnesses, a power cut, and now a band meeting. Whatever next?

 

‘Surprise!’

A cacophony of voices greeted Casey and Alex when they arrived at Myles’s place in Shepherd’s Bush. Myles had converted an old warehouse into a massive loft-style apartment, and his abode doubled as unofficial band HQ and rehearsal venue. But today, there was no evidence of band work. There was no evidence of a crisis, either. Streamers and balloons had been rigged along the high ceilings, a makeshift buffet had been erected at the far side of the lounge, music was blaring from the speakers, and all of the band plus dozens of their friends had assembled for what appeared to be a surprise party.

Liza, the bass player, launched herself at Casey and wrapped her in a big hug. ‘Welcome back, honey! We missed you!’

‘Wow. Thanks!’ Casey was lost for words.

‘We thought we’d throw a party in honour of your nuptials, to welcome you back, and to celebrate with everybody who couldn’t make it out to the wedding.’ Myles grinned broadly and slapped Alex on the shoulder. ‘Hope that’s okay?’

‘It’s fabulous. I don’t know what to say.’ Alex grinned helplessly. ‘You had me all worked up about some crisis, and instead you’re throwing a party.’

Myles looked a bit sheepish. ‘Sorry about the crisis bit, but I needed to get you over here pronto. No point in having a party without the guests of honour!’

Casey laughed. ‘You’re a star, Myles. Thank you.’

‘My pleasure.’ Myles winked at her, and Casey had an awful sense of foreboding. She remembered all too clearly Myles’s comments on the yacht. He was bound to follow up on them. That would be exactly the kind of thing he would do.