The Honey - Don't List
“No.”
“It sounds pathetic to me.” She takes a step back and throws her arms out wide and yells at the ceiling. “I’m twenty-six! Good sex should be the foundation of every weekend at my age, but is it?”
“Apparently not?”
She looks back at me and presses a hand to my stomach. “And you have a great body and fucking fantastic teeth.”
I laugh, delighted by this radiant, emphatic woman.
But then a shadow of doubt crosses over her expression. “Am I being too forward?”
Coming slowly back to my senses, I’m aware that her confidence is new. She may be emphatic, but she’s never been given space to be this commanding before. “Absolutely not.” I lean in, kissing her once, and staying close even when I pull away. “You’re the one who left the pool last night, not me.”
This earns me a smile. “I would have totally had sex with you, just so you know. Those stupid kids interrupted us and I freaked out realizing that Melly could have been out on her balcony, too. But right now I don’t care who sees us.”
I kiss a path from her collarbone to her jaw. “Good.”
“So we’re going to do it now.” Her voice vibrates against my lips. “And I think you’re going to blow my mind.” I straighten, and her eyes search mine. “Right, James?”
Compassion for her agitation makes me earnest: “I promise to do my best.”
“One drink,” she says. She slides her hand into mine, but doesn’t move from where she leans against the wall.
“One drink sounds perfect,” I agree. I’m not going to rush her. We could stand in this hallway talking about it for hours if she wants.
“And then you’re going to … ?” Her eyebrows rise to prompt me.
I grin and heat fills my chest when she stares hungrily at my mouth. “Rumor has it I’m going to bend you over the bed.”
“Correct.” Carey smiles, tugs my hand, and leads me down the hall.
EXCERPT FROM New Life, Old Love
Chapter Nine: Let’s Talk About Sex, Baby
Imagine the scene: Melly hands me the outline for this book to look over. As with most things in our life, she’s done the initial legwork and so I know it’s solid. I do a quick scan and give her an immediate “Yep, looks good,” and she hovers for only a second before letting that sassy smile spread over her face.
“Great,” she says. “Glad to hear it.”
Two months later, I’m handed the outline again. Nothing’s changed. Same exact outline. Except this time, I actually take the time to look at it. And this time, I notice that she’s outlined for me to write, among other things, the chapter on s-e-x.
Do I take it as a compliment? Hell yeah. Nothing better than knowing your wife trusts you to handle the important stuff. But is it also intimidating? Another hell yeah. It’s one thing to talk about sex in the confines of our marriage—we’ve been together so long that there are things we know about each other’s bodies that we probably don’t even know about our own. But it’s another thing to get on the computer and try to tell millions of people how and when they should be talking about sex in a relationship.
Look. The first thing I realized with Melly was that if we weren’t prepared to talk about it openly, then we probably shouldn’t be doing it. I realized that because we started together early, before we really had a language for any of that stuff. Before we knew what to do and what we even really liked. We were idiots, shuffling blindly through sexual exploration.
I guess it’s sheer luck that we were able to figure it out together, but that—like any aspect of a good marriage—took a lot of attention, effort, and talking. Lord, in those early days we talked all night about what we wanted, who we were, and what turned us on.
If you think this chapter is going to be a salacious tell-all about my sex life with the beautiful Melissa Tripp, you’ll be disappointed. Go pick up a different book—maybe one with a sexy cowboy on the cover. Another important piece of taking care of a sexual relationship in marriage is to keep it private. My daddy always said, “The only way to keep a secret is to not tell anyone,” so this is me not telling you a single detail about my wife and how damn sexy she is when she wears her hair down, puts on a pair of jeans and boots, and goes outside to ride her beautiful Arabian, Shadow.
Well, I guess that tidbit got away from me, but here’s the other thing: a healthy sexual relationship happens when you find your partner sexy at one day, at one year, at ten years, and when you’re both old as time and slow as honey in the winter. Those things you think are sexy at first might change over time. People aren’t as acrobatic at forty as they are at twenty. These are the facts of life.