by Nicky Wells
Praise
‘7 Years Bad Sex is a witty, intelligent, and hilariously funny romantic comedy that aims to please...
Or not, as the case may be. A must read!’
Kelly at Perusing Princesses
‘7 Years Bad Sex is going to be one of those books that everyone is talking about. A fantastic story, engaging plot, and totally wonderful main characters to fall in love with.’
JB Johnston at Brook Cottage Books
‘Fun and romantic, with a touch of rock and roll, 7 Years Bad Sex is a light-hearted look at what happens to one newlywed couple when they are unable to consummate their marriage—I couldn't put it down!’
Jonita Fex at The Book Chick
‘A fantastic refreshing change, but who would have thought characters not having sex would stress me out so much? Absolutely hilarious too. Loved it!’
Rachel Miles at Love Between the Sheets
Nicky Wells
7 Years
Bad Sex
One wedding.
One curse?
Disaster ever after…
Copyright © 2015 by Nicky Wells.
All rights reserved. No part of this novel may be reproduced in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical (including but not limited to the Internet, photocopying, recording), or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission from the author. This includes sharing any part of the work online on any forum.
Nicky Wells asserts her moral right as the author of this work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Nicky Wells
nickywells.com
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Names, characters, places and plots are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
First paperback edition printed by CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform in May 2015:
ISBN-13: 978-1511716321
ISBN-10: 1511716320
Author photograph by Deborah Smith
Cover design by Nicky Wells
Cover images © Rtimages | Dreamstime.com - Biplane Creating A Heart Shape In The Sky Photo
A British Novel with British Spellings
You may or may not know that I’m a British writer. Actually, that’s not strictly speaking true. I’m a German writer, but I live, write, and produce my books in the UK. Like my other books, this story is set predominantly in the UK, and the main characters are British. Therefore, I have yet again elected to adhere to the conventions of British English. My group of North American test readers told me that they enjoyed the English feel of this novel, and that they adored ‘hearing’ the characters speak in their British voices.
If you hail from the other side of the pond—relative to me, that is—and if this is the first time you and I meet, you’re likely to notice some unfamiliar expressions and some unusual spellings, such as ‘honour’, ‘travelling’, or ‘organised’. These are entirely intentional—it’s just how we do things over here.
So have fun and enjoy, and keep on rocking. And thanks for coming along for the ride!
Before we begin…
I know you’re dying to ask.
I don’t blame you. Honestly, I’d be the same in your shoes.
But the answer is no.
And if any of it were true, I probably wouldn’t have published it under my own name. Let’s be realistic here: I’ve still got to face the mums at the school gates, the ladies and gentlemen at the supermarket checkouts, and the owner of the newsagents. And the ladies in the post office, the doctor’s surgery, and in the pet shop. Not forgetting, of course, my own mum, my parents-in-law, and assorted other relatives.
So, no. None of it happened. But I hope you enjoy it anyway.
Chapter One:
Sailing the Seas of Love
~Casey~
‘A toast. To the bride and groom.’
Casey laughed happily as her bridesmaid Sasha raised her champagne glass, prompting the small party of wedding guests to stand once more. The yacht rocked gently on the slight swell of the Mediterranean Sea, and Sasha quickly grabbed onto the best man’s arm for support.
‘I know it’s slightly unorthodox,’ she continued. ‘We’ve already toasted the bride and groom, and the speeches are technically over, but I couldn’t not say something. I’ve been Casey’s best friend since Kindergarten. Words can’t express how happy I am to see her getting hitched here today, resplendent in a fabulous gown that is exactly like we always dreamed it would be even when we were little girls. Getting married to Alex, a man who’s every bit as gorgeous and sexy as we always dreamed when we were…’ She paused for a moment. ‘…well, let’s say, not so little girls.’
The wedding party cheered and clapped, and Sasha hiccupped, much to everyone’s amusement.
‘Lightweight!’ Alex heckled good-naturedly from Casey’s side.
‘Sorry.’ Sasha smiled disarmingly, obviously not sorry at all. ‘It’s the bubbles, you see. There’s so many of them. I’m not used to quaffing champers, unlike some people.’
She grinned at Casey and tilted her glass just so. It was a private joke between the two of them. Sasha was the only person who knew how close Casey had come to utter despair after her last boyfriend had unceremoniously dumped her for another man, and how many bubbles it had taken to numb the pain.
Casey hugged herself inwardly while Sasha continued speaking. It wasn’t the ‘other man’ bit that had nearly sent her over the edge, but the fact that one morning Jason had talked about a future with kids, and by the same evening he had packed up his things, removed the keys to their shared flat from his key ring, and shacked up with Roger. Roger, indeed. ‘It’s not you, you see. It’s me,’ had been his predictable parting shot.
Casey’s heart had remained frozen and bruised until the gorgeous, delicious, and extremely talented Alex Morgan crashed into her life. Actually, considering how they met, it would probably be more accurate to say that Casey had crashed into Alex’s life. Slightly inebriated and egged on by Sasha’s taunts, Casey had literally flung herself on stage in a crowded London pub where an unknown rock band was pulling a covers gig. She wrenched the microphone out of the vocalist’s hands, challenged the band—who she knew nothing about at that point—to play a classic rock number, and proceeded to sing her heart out. She brought the house down.
As it turned out, her now-husband Alex drummed and wrote songs for that rock band—Blue Heart, they were called—and after her unsolicited live audition, he also recruited her to be Blue Heart’s lead singer. The rest, as they say, was history, and it had taken them to this beautiful yacht anchored in the Med just off St Tropez on this glorious day in May.
‘…and the rest, as they say, is history.’ Sasha’s voice echoed Casey’s exact thoughts, and Casey shivered. She wondered what revelations about herself she had missed, but from the look on the faces of her husband and guests, Sasha hadn’t dropped any bombshells.
‘So, one more time, to the bride and groom,’ Sasha concluded, and a rousing chorus of voices picked up the toast.
To the bride and groom!
Casey turned to look at Alex. His blue eyes were the exact colour of the azure sky stretching above them, and they were dancing with laughter and love. On the horizon behind him, Casey could make out the hills of the French Riviera rising in the distance, a hazy blue-green outline shimmering in the heat of the midday sun. A light breeze ruffled her hair, and she tucked an errant lock behind her ear.
All around her were their combined friends and families—well, about forty of them. A small wedding, but a glamorous one for sure. With all the shimmer and sparkle bouncing off the sea, Casey’s wedding c
ould have been a movie set. Her life had definitely turned from the ridiculous to the sublime, and she couldn’t quite believe that her dream was really happening.
‘I love you, Mrs Morgan,’ Alex whispered and raised his glass to meet hers.
‘I love you too, Mr Morgan,’ Casey replied and lifted her glass so they could clink. But before they made contact, there came a ‘bang bang’, somewhat muffled, and a gleeful screech shattered the moment.
‘Oh, at last! Casey and Alex, look. Wow!’
Casey instinctively turned to look at Sasha, who was staring into the sky. Casey shielded her eyes with her free hand and let her gaze wander upwards until she caught sight of several red flares streaking the sky.
There was a faint ‘ting’ as Alex touched his glass to hers, but Casey’s eyes were still on the sky, and she lifted her drink to take a sip whilst marvelling at the spectacle unfolding before them. A little plane had appeared, trailing a banner behind it. Casey tilted back in her seat to get a better view. Alex put out a steadying hand and pulled her into a half-embrace.
‘Steady on,’ he chuckled. ‘We don’t want you toppling over backwards.’
Casey didn’t reply. She was too busy making sense of the surprise in the sky.
Congratulations Casey and Alex, the plane’s banner proclaimed with bold red lettering on a white background. Casey’s heart thumped with excitement as the pilot launched into a loop-the-loop, then turned on his smoke trail and created a perfect love heart against the bright blue canvas of the cloudless sky.
Casey took another sip of her champagne. ‘Oh wow,’ she whispered. ‘This is so beautiful.’
‘Isn’t it just?’ Alex concurred. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘Me neither. Sasha must have organised it. We must thank her properly later.’
Casey snuggled into her husband’s embrace as deeply as was possible whilst they were both sitting on separate chairs, and her eyes remained trained on the sky. She sensed more than she saw that Alex was taking a drink from his glass, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.
‘To us,’ she whispered.
‘To us,’ he replied.
For the briefest moment, the earth seemed to shake, and there was a deep, growling sound like thunder from within the sea. Casey grabbed on tight to Alex. She shook her head as if to clear a sudden fog.
‘Did you feel that?’ She took her eyes off the sky and looked at her husband. Her voice trembled slightly.
‘I certainly did.’ Alex squeezed her arm and surreptitiously examined the other guests. ‘Nobody else seems bothered. Maybe we imagined it.’
Casey snorted. ‘What? Both of us, together? Like some sort of bizarre co-hallucination?’
‘I don’t know.’ Alex shrugged. ‘It was so quick, maybe we did imagine it.’
‘I didn’t imagine it,’ Casey protested, but already she could feel uncertainty lapping at the edges of her memory. ‘It definitely happened.’
‘But the water is calm, and there isn’t a cloud in the sky,’ Alex reasoned. ‘There are no glasses rolling off tables. No breakage. Nothing.’
‘But I heard it,’ Casey protested. ‘And all the hair on the back of my neck stood up.’
‘Maybe it was a tremor of love?’ Alex purred. ‘Or of lust, even. I can’t wait to ravish you.’
He tilted his head and looked at Casey longingly. Casey’s heart rate notched up again, and a warm fuzzy feeling stirred in her stomach. Mmmh, sex with her husband. She couldn’t wait.
Alex set down his glass and cupped her face in his hands. Gently, so very gently, he brought his face to hers until their lips touched. Casey swooned. Their relationship would never get old. She felt as aroused by Alex today as she had been on their very first date.
‘Now, now,’ Sasha’s voice chirruped behind them. ‘I believe you’ve got an exquisite cabin downstairs for you-know-what, but that’ll have to wait. It’s dancing next! Your guests are waiting.’
Alex gave an impatient growl.
‘All right then,’ he murmured, his lips still close to Casey’s mouth. She could feel his warm exhalation as he spoke. ‘Let’s open the dancing. But I’m telling you, you better be ready for some bedroom fireworks tonight.’
~Alex~
‘Go get her!’
Myles nudged Alex in the side and offered an exaggerated wink. Alex chuckled. His best friend, lead guitarist, and best man was more than three sheets to the wind, and tact wasn’t his strong suit even whilst sober.
‘All in good time,’ Alex replied nonchalantly, even though lust was coursing through his veins. The wedding guests were gradually leaving, ferried to the mainland in small groups by a little motor launch. Both sets of parents had already departed alongside Sasha and Emily, Blue Heart’s publicist.
‘I’ve got to go and tweet some more about how you’re in the Caribbean,’ Emily had joked when she left. ‘You take care of Casey, and enjoy yourselves on your honeymoon.’
This ploy of hers had kept the press away, allowing Casey and Alex to get married in peace. Alex was extremely grateful that his band had such a capable and inventive publicist who also had the good sense to chivvy the guests along when they were supposed to leave. There were only a few stragglers left, and, very soon, he would be alone with Casey.
‘Go on, man,’ Myles persisted, swaying on his feet. ‘Go get her, it’s your wedding night.’
Alex resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He loved Myles, in a best-mate kind of way, but he could be a bit much when drunk. Alex hoped the fact that he was now a married man wouldn’t come between them. It shouldn’t, really, given that he had been with Casey for well over two years, but you never know. Some blokes were funny about these things, and Myles had a crass streak that could get ugly. As a bachelor, Alex had simply ignored Myles when he got out of hand, but he wouldn’t stand for crudeness at his wife’s expense.
He grinned and squared his shoulders. Time to get Myles shipped off to bed.
‘I know it’s my wedding night,’ he said pointedly. ‘My wife and I shall enjoy ourselves just as soon as you get off this boat.’
‘All right, all right, keep your hair on,’ Myles mock-grumbled. ‘I can take a hint. I’ll be off then. But give it to her good, won’t ya?’
Alex snorted. ‘Myles, I promise you’ll be proud of me. Now bugger off.’
‘Bugger off?’ Casey joined the conversation with a teasing reproof. ‘That’s no way to talk to our guests, not least your best man.’
‘You’d be telling him worse if you knew how very badly Myles has been behaving.’
‘Is that so?’ Casey burst out laughing. ‘I didn’t think he’d had his wicked way with any of the single ladies yet.’
‘I’m standing right here, you know,’ Myles huffed. ‘I can hear you.’
‘There must be something wrong with your hearing as you’re still here.’ Alex dropped another hint. ‘I thought you were going.’
‘I am. I know where I’m not wanted.’ Myles pulled a downcast face.
‘Aw Myles, we love you.’ Casey wrapped her arms around the guitarist and hugged him tight. She whispered in his ear. ‘Thank you for being such a good best man to Alex.’
‘I did it for you, honey,’ Myles whispered back. ‘You know you’re too good for him.’
‘Myles Baker, you are one maudlin drunk. Now be gone with you,’ Alex chided, beginning to feel a little irritated at his best man’s inability—or unwillingness—to make himself scarce.
Casey released her hold on Myles, and Myles ambled off towards the lower deck where the motor launch once more had tied up to the yacht, ready to take the last of the guests ashore.
‘Night, guys,’ he threw over his shoulder.
‘Night, Myles,’ Casey and Alex echoed in unison.
Alex turned to his bride. ‘Phew. Alone at last.’
‘Alone at last,’ Casey confirmed. She smiled widely. ‘Wasn’t it the most divine day?’
‘It certainly was. And the
best is yet to come.’
Alex pulled Casey into his arms. The swell of her breasts against his chest made his pulse race. Seeing her cleavage all day without being allowed to touch had been an exquisite torture, but now he was ready to take what was his. He dipped his head and planted a series of kisses along the plunging neckline of Casey’s dress. Casey shuddered and wriggled.
‘Is that so?’ she breathed.
‘Is what so?’ Alex was mentally undressing Casey, stripping off layers and layers of exquisite but inconvenient wedding dress fabric until she stood before him in all her naked glory, and he had lost the conversational plot.
‘You said the best was yet to come,’ Casey reminded him. ‘I wonder what you might be talking about.’
‘Want me to show you?’
Without waiting for an answer, Alex swooped Casey off her feet and carried her along the deck, determined now to reach their cabin.
‘Wait, wait! Not so fast,’ Casey protested. ‘Hang on a moment. I want to memorise all this.’
Alex obediently stopped.
‘Put me down,’ Casey pleaded. ‘I’m too heavy for you.’
‘You’re not,’ Alex replied automatically, but he set her down anyway.
‘Look at it all.’ Casey made a sweeping gesture with her arm, taking in the upper deck festooned with fairy lights, the wide sea glittering silver in the moonlight, the distant twinkle of lights on the shore. She sighed happily. ‘It’s so perfect. I wish I could package it up it and store it forever.’
‘You’re doing that, aren’t you? Memorising it?’ Alex couldn’t quite follow.
‘I am, but I wish I could make it real. You know, something to take out and touch, and feel, and hear all over again when I want to.’