| |
––––––––
While walking down to the theater, I realized one important thing: In a few hours, I’d be having full-on sex with someone other than my fiancé. Four years of boring, predictable, mission-style sex where I never came first, if at all, was about to be traded in for the unknown. Well, that was not true. In our brief time together, he’d already managed to get me off and turned me on in ways I had never experienced. Sex with Shawn was going to be amazing. I knew it in my core. So, why was I being so timid? Did I not think I would enjoy myself after the pre-show moments we’d shared already?
No, dumbass, you’re terrified you will enjoy it. Then what? Return to Erwin and live the rest of your life knowing amazing sex is out there, but you can’t ever have it again?
There it was. I both wanted him and didn’t at the same time. It was very confusing. Not to mention the weird doubt that managed to creep in. Yes, Dwayne had left me for someone else, but it didn’t automatically turn off my memories of our time together. While our sex had been dull, at least I knew what to expect. There were no surprises with Dwayne. Shawn was nothing but surprises. It was a lot to adjust to. Hence, the need for some booze.
I didn’t want to be rude and drink in front of him, so I figured if I stopped at the bar and downed something quick, it would take the edge off. I wanted this night to be special, not me bumbling over my insecurities. Because Dwayne preferred sex with the lights off, I’d translated it to mean he hated the sight of my body. What if Shawn felt the same? What if I’m not as desirable as I think I am?
Drink first, insecurities later.
The bar was on the floor above the show, so I went over and signaled the bartender. I told him to give me whatever packed the fastest punch. A moment later, he handed me something in a coconut with a mini umbrella that stank of pineapple and was most definitely not covered under the meal plan, but I was more than willing to pay the twenty-dollar tab just to get the booze in my system as fast as humanly possible.
“What is it?” I asked.
“A Drunky Monkey. Cash or charge to your room?”
I flashed him my room card, and he put the drink on my tab. I downed my drink in about five seconds flat and ordered another before I relented and made my way down to the show.
Drinking the second one a bit more slowly, I did a little people-watching while I waited for Shawn to finish his business. There were the predictable couples, both older and younger, that passed me by. Each getting from this cruise a unique experience. The younger ones seemed to long for physical connections, judging from the way they had their hands all over each other. The older couples seemed to crave emotional ones. You could see it in their eyes as they looked at the younger couples, likely reminiscing themselves.
I found myself wondering if I’d ever have that. That person by my side to grow old with. I had thought it was going to be Dwayne, but now... Maybe becoming a crazy cat lady was in the cards for me after all? That single stereotype was the reason I never allowed myself to own a cat. It felt like a gateway pet to solitude. And I wanted nothing to do with that. I couldn’t be alone. Too much time to think when you’re alone, and it was something I did my best to avoid. Hence, the Drunky Monkey.
Sighing, I took another large sip and went down to the theater to save us some seats. To my surprise, Shawn was already there, sitting in one of the semi-circle-shaped, padded, gray booths. He was scanning the room for me when I came in. His whole face lit up when we locked eyes. It made my heart race. I practically ran over to where he was sitting.
“I see you found the bar.” He nodded at my drink.
“I did.” I flinched. “Don’t worry. It’s almost gone.” I took a huge sip and placed it on the table beside us before I sat down.
“Jazz, you’re allowed to have a drink. Please don’t think of it as my Kryptonite. It’s only bad if it’s in my hand, not yours. Okay?”
“Right. Sorry,” I said, noting the happy buzz, which was forming along the edges of my mind, blurring away the anxiety.
For several minutes, we watched the comedian tell jokes I’m sure were hysterical, but all I could think about was the delicious man beside me. I found myself inching my way closer to him, wanting to feel his skin against mine. The Drunky Monkey was making me a randy monkey.
When my thigh pressed against his, Shawn turned his focus from the comedian to me. My heart did a weird triple-time beat as I gazed into his eyes. Without a clear thought from my brain, I slid my hand over his thigh to land right on his crotch.
“Um,” he said, shifting against my hand, but I noticed he didn’t move away; rather, he rose his hips up to meet me.
“Can we go back to the cabin now?” I whispered.
He grunted as my hand danced slowly up and down his growing erection. “Yes, please.”
Not wanting to let my buzz drift away, I stood up and held my hand out to him. He took it willingly. He walked close behind me through the crowded theater. So close I could feel his breath on my neck. I had to remind myself that public fornication was illegal.
So consumed with desire, or gin, I tripped over my own feet, nearly pulling us both into the pool.
“Whoa, okay, someone has had too much to drink,” Shawn said, pulling my arm over his shoulder as one might do for a drunk stumbling out of a bar.
“I’m a little tipsy, that’s all.” I laughed. My voice was a bit too loud for a couple lounging by the pool. They turned their heads to glare at us.
“How many drinks have you had?”
“Just the one.” I made a face. “Okay, two. The first one went down fast.”
“And the two glasses of champagne at dinner,” he pointed out.
“Oh, yeah. Um, so four.” I stumbled again a bit as we got out of the elevator. “Shit, maybe I have had too many. Usually, a glass of wine does it for me.”
He smiled. “That’s what I thought. Let’s get you back to the room.”
“Mmm. Yes, please,” I said, trying to grab his ass, but he took my hand instead and forced me to behave. Fine. I could be good until we got inside. I wasn’t drunk. I was just buzzing. That was all.
When we made it back to our cabin, however, I knew I was in trouble because I couldn’t get the key to work. I looked up to make sure it was the right room, because every door looked the same. The numbers were blurry.
“Allow me, Ms. Drunky.”
“That’s Mrs. Drunky to you,” I said, hearing the slur in my words. Damn, this was hitting me harder than I thought it would.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he said, opening the door and shutting it behind us.
“Well, that’s sort of the point of a honeymoon,” I said, pulling my sundress off so I was only in my bikini. His eyes took on an appreciative look. Pressing him against the door, I planted a kiss on him.
His lips did not exactly yield to my attempts, but rather, they stood firm, waiting for me to stop assaulting him.
“Does my breath stink?” I asked, pulling back.
“No. It’s not your breath, Jazz.” He sighed.
“Ah, I’m kissing the wrong head. Got it,” I said, dropping to my knees. I started to undo his pants, but his wrists circled mine and forced me up to standing.
“No, Jazz. We’re not doing this. Not tonight. Not while you’re drunk.”
“But...it’s our honeymoon.”
I reached my hand down again, trying to make contact, but he thwarted that effort as well.
“Not tonight. I don’t want our first time to be like this.”
“But I want you.” I panted, desperate to touch him.
He put his arms on my shoulders. “I want you too. Just not drunk. Okay?”
Tears clouded my vision. “I only had a drink to loosen up. I was nervous. I wanted this to be perfect.” The tears were flowing freely now. I was that kind of person when I drank. Loud and emotional.
“Hey, hey,” Shawn soothed, walking my drunk ass over to the bed, where I collapsed willingly. “The night is perfect. I’m with you. You are perfect, Jasmine. You just had too much to drink tonight.”
“Pfft,” I mumbled. “You say that now, but you wait. You’ll see. You’ll see how crazy I am. Just like the others did. You’ll see all of the ugliness that is me. Ugh. Why did you agree to do this?” I sobbed.
“Because you asked me to.” He smiled. “And because I wanted to.” He took my hand and placed it on his chest. “You feel this?” he asked.
“Mmm, nice pectoral muscle.” I smiled through the tears.
“Yes, well, I meant beneath the muscle. Can you feel how hard my heart is thundering?”
“Mine is too!” I shouted far too loudly.
“See? Our hearts know we belong together. We need to give our brains the chance to catch up. That way, you won’t need to be drunk to want to touch me,” he said gently.
“Oh, I want to touch you all right. I don’t need to be drunk to do it either,” I said, sitting up to make another move, but he caged my wrists once again, hovering his body over me. It was so hot.
“Not tonight.”
More tears. “You won’t want me in the morning,” I whimpered. I knew I was being emotional because of the booze. My thoughts felt fuzzy, but there was truth behind the slurs. He didn’t know me. He only saw the attractive outside shell. Guys never cared for the inside bits. Why would Shawn be any different?
“I will want you in the morning, and the afternoon, and the evening, if you’re up for it. But if you want tomorrow to arrive, you first need to fall asleep.”
“You promise? You’ll still be here tomorrow?”
He smirked at me. “We’re on a boat, Jazz. In the middle of the ocean. Where am I gonna go?”
“Good point. Okay. I’m going to sleep now. Tomorrow, we screw. Right? Like non-drunky monkeys?”
He laughed, releasing my wrists, and rolling off me.
“Yes, Jasmine. Tomorrow, we screw. Relentlessly.”
Mmm. I liked the sound of that.
