Bon Voyage

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Bon Voyage Page 11

by Michelle Betham


  ‘I’m a bit nervous, y’know,’ Danny smiled, his hands still buried deep in his pockets.

  ‘I find it hard to believe that Danny Johnson could be nervous about anything,’ Aimee said quietly, running her hands up and down her bare arms, although she had no idea why she was doing that. She certainly wasn’t cold, quite the opposite, in fact.

  ‘Ah, well, you see, you’re thinking of the Danny Johnson that existed back in the 1990’s. The cocky, arrogant pop star. He never really got nervous about anything. But, right here, right now, you’ve got the real Danny Johnson. And he does get nervous.’

  ‘I still find that hard to believe,’ Aimee whispered.

  Danny let out a low, deep laugh, but he kept his eyes firmly on Aimee as he walked slowly over to her and she didn’t move, she stayed rooted to the spot, her arms still folded against her as though she wasn’t quite ready for him to come that close just yet. After all, they’d actually only kissed – really kissed, properly – a couple of times. And now they were here, alone, in his cabin. She was alone in the cabin of her favourite pop star! About to do something she’d dreamed of doing for so long. Could she really go through with this?

  ‘Danny…’

  He stopped in front of her, close enough for her to feel his breath warm on her face, his aftershave – he was wearing Cool Water again – filling the air around her and she could feel her head start to spin as the enormity of where she was and who she was with and what she was about to do hit her full on.

  ‘I’ll understand if you want to go,’ he whispered, his fingers reaching out to gently stroke her cheek and she closed her eyes as he touched her skin, his thumb running lightly over her lips, her heart hammering harder and harder inside her. ‘But I… I think we both know what’s going to happen next. Don’t we?’

  She nodded slowly, staring deep into those beautiful blue eyes. She was about to sleep with a man she’d spent most of her teenage years dreaming about, and now he was here for the taking, and this time he was no poster on her wall. He was very, very real, and for whatever reason – be it right or wrong – she was going to enjoy every second of whatever happened next.

  She kept her eyes closed as he leaned forward and gently kissed her mouth, his fingers running slowly down over her neck to her shoulder, sending a million tiny shivers shooting through every inch of her body. He had the most incredibly soft lips, and he tasted amazing. He tasted of mint and sugar and… Oh, Jesus, it just felt so good! Please, please, don’t let this be a dream!

  Opening her eyes she pulled away slightly, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt to steady herself because that kiss had knocked her sideways, but she had Danny Johnson in the palm of her hand right now and whether it was the right thing to do or not – sleeping with him when they’d only known each other a matter of days – she didn’t care. She really didn’t care. Because she was here with Danny Johnson!

  A smile spread slowly across her face as she pulled him towards her by his shirt, kissing him back, twice as long and twice as hard, giving him the green light. Hell, this chance may never come up again. She’d be an idiot to let it go, no matter what the consequences were.

  ‘I’m no supermodel, mind,’ Aimee whispered, trying to batter down the last remaining remnant of nervousness that was still hanging around.

  ‘I don’t care,’ he said, his fingers now running lightly over her collarbone, moving further south to touch the small amount of cleavage she had on show. Aimee was well aware she was no glamour model either, but he was so gorgeous, and so fit, she couldn’t help but be a little bit wary of showing him her less-than-perfect body. ‘I just want to be with you, Aimee.’

  Her eyes locked onto his once more as she slowly slipped her hands inside his shirt, gasping out loud as she touched naked skin, his body hard beneath her fingers. For a man heading towards middle-age he sure as hell was making it his mission to stay fit.

  As he shrugged his shirt back off his shoulders she took a step back and looked at him, bare-chested and beautiful – like a character from one of her mother’s romantic novels. No, get that thought right out of her head! The last thing she needed to be thinking about tonight was her mother. And then, almost as though she were acting on some kind of auto-pilot, Aimee slowly slipped her dress down over her breasts, letting it slide down past her hips until it fell to the floor and she kicked it away, suddenly feeling quite exposed as she stood there – in front of Danny Johnson – in just her underwear and her strappy high heels. Although, the underwear was pretty good stuff, she had to admit. Some of Debenhams’ best, and she was glad she’d chosen tonight to wear a matching set.

  ‘You look amazing,’ he whistled, moving closer, and there it was. He’d called her amazing – again! This really had to be some kind of dream because things like this just didn’t happen to thirty-something women from Whitley Bay who worked in SuperStyle. ‘You look… you look absolutely amazing.’

  Her head was really spinning now, and she was glad he’d slipped his arms around her waist because she was sure she was going to pass out if she had nothing to hold onto, but the second his skin touched hers it did nothing to make her feel any steadier.

  ‘Are you sure you want to go through with this?’ he asked, tilting up her chin so she had no choice but to look into those incredible blue eyes.

  All she could do was nod, no words seemingly able to come out of her mouth and he smiled, that killer smile, that smile that had sent thousands of women into a screaming frenzy so many times over so many years but somehow – somehow that smile relaxed her, and she slipped her arms around him, playing with the hair at the back of his neck, her forehead resting against his.

  ‘I’m sure,’ she whispered. ‘Believe me, I’ve never been more sure. Of anything.’

  He laughed, that low, wonderful, sexy laugh and she felt her stomach do a cartwheel that left her breathless as the anticipation of what was going to happen next almost overwhelmed her. ‘Then let’s start the show,’ he smiled, his mouth oh-so-close to her ear and she closed her eyes again, falling against him as his lips brushed over her neck, his hands resting on her hips as he pushed her back against the wall, undoing her bra with one swift movement, throwing it down on the floor beside her discarded dress.

  ‘Oh, Jesus,’ he breathed, standing back slightly to take a look at her, and whether it was the mix of wine and cocktails that she’d been drinking all night, or just the adrenalin that was pumping through her she didn’t know, but all of a sudden she felt like the sexiest woman in the world. She felt beautiful and wanted, she felt all of that and more as she let him take her hand and lead her over to his bed, laying her down gently and she watched, propped up on her elbows, as that incredible toned, tattooed body of his became naked in front of her. And once again she couldn’t keep the smile off her face, her eyes locked on his as he lay over her, kissing her slowly, sending a barrage of tiny electric shocks shooting right through her as he stripped the last item of clothing away from her, the touch of his fingers stroking her thigh making her gasp out loud again and she wanted to pinch herself to make sure this was really happening – she wanted to pinch him just to make sure he was real!

  ‘Still sure you want to do this?’ he asked, gently stroking her fringe away from her eyes. ‘Because…’

  She shut him up with another kiss, running her fingers up and down his back. ‘I’m sure. Okay?’

  He smiled that killer smile one more time, parting her legs with his knee and she closed her eyes, throwing her head back as his lips kissed the base of her throat, her back arching as she felt his fingers touch her inner thigh. This was it. This was the part where she played out that fantasy, where she finally got to be with a man she’d once thought untouchable – this was it! This was happening, and as she threw her arms up above her head, sighing with a pleasure she’d honestly thought it was impossible to ever feel, she’d never felt happier. Danny Johnson – ex-pop idol – was about to make love to her. And she felt like the luckiest woman alive.


  CRUISE DAY 6

  Toulon – Gateway to the Cote d’Azur

  10:00am

  ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ Aimee asked, tearing off a piece of croissant and slapping a large spoonful of raspberry jam on it before shoving it into her mouth. ‘Me abandoning you to go out with Danny today, I mean.’

  ‘Why would I mind?’ Jemma said, watching in amazement as Aimee tore off another piece of croissant, this time smothering it in marmalade, reaching over for a Danish pastry before she’d even finished eating the croissant she was currently demolishing. ‘I’m having a day of peace and quiet on the ship. I’m quite looking forward to being one of the few people left on board whilst everyone else is off exploring. Should get a decent spot by the pool at any rate... Did you not eat much last night or something? I’ve never seen you pack so much away since…’ She stopped short of finishing the sentence, and Aimee knew why.

  ‘Since Robbie dumped me you were going to say, weren’t you?’ Aimee said through a mouthful of croissant and marmalade.

  ‘Aimee, Chick, I am so sorry. I really didn’t mean to…’

  Aimee smiled at her, washing her croissant down with a good mouthful of tea before beginning work on the Danish pastry. ‘Forget it. Saying his name, thinking about him, even remembering what he did to me, none of that bothers me anymore. The reason I’m eating like this this time is because amazing sex always gives me one hell of an appetite.’

  ‘Did someone mention amazing sex?’ Marcie asked, sitting down opposite Aimee and Jemma, a vision in lemon yellow and lime green. She reminded them of a yet-to-ripen banana.

  Aimee cringed, looking at Jemma with wide eyes. The last thing she wanted to do first thing in the morning was discuss her sex life with her mother, especially as she’d probably make mental notes and use it as research for a future novel.

  ‘We were – we were talking about it, yes,’ Jemma replied, looking at Aimee with equally wide eyes and a “What was I supposed to say” look on her face.

  ‘Nobody’s had it then?’ Marcie went on, pouring herself a cup of tea and reaching for a slice of toast.

  ‘Mam!’ Aimee gasped, slightly embarrassed that this conversation was happening.

  Marcie smiled one of those coy, girlish smiles that she’d perfected as she slowly spread butter over her toast. ‘Actually, that’s a lie. Because I know somebody who did have amazing sex last night.’

  Aimee and Jemma looked at each other again, and this time an expression of panic crossed Aimee’s face as she mouthed “Did you tell her?” at Jemma, who just shook her head.

  ‘It was me!’ Marcie giggled, flicking her candyfloss-pink hair back over her shoulder. ‘I had amazing sex last night!’

  Jemma and Aimee continued to stare at each other for a few seconds longer, taking in what Marcie had just said, too stunned to speak.

  ‘She’s not gonna start furnishing us with details, is she?’ Jemma whispered.

  ‘I bloody hope not,’ Aimee whispered back, putting the Danish pastry back down on its plate. ‘I know one thing for sure though. I’ve lost my appetite.’

  ‘It was so romantic!’ Marcie gushed, and both Jemma and Aimee – despite their better judgement – turned to look at her, almost terrified of what was going to come out of her mouth next. ‘It was just like something out of one of my novels – the dashing hero, all handsome and…’

  ‘Mam, please. Do we have to talk about this over breakfast? Actually, do we have to talk about this at all?’

  ‘Which one did you get on it on with then, Marcie?’

  Aimee looked at her friend. ‘Jemma!’

  ‘Well,’ Jemma said innocently. ‘I want to know. I mean, she’s got two on the go, hasn’t she?’ Jemma looked at Marcie, a smile spreading across her face. ‘Oh, don’t tell me you – not with both of them?’

  ‘Jemma! Jesus, that’s my mother you’re talking about.’

  Marcie didn’t seem to have taken any offence; in fact, she was giggling like an over-grown schoolgirl, patting her pink hair and looking coyly down at the remnants of her half-eaten toast. ‘Oh, you girls. What do you take Marcie for?’

  ‘Oh, Christ, she’s started referring to herself in the third person now,’ Aimee groaned. ‘See what you’ve done?’

  Jemma just shrugged, turning her attention back to Marcie, who‘d now whipped out her compact and was applying a fresh coat of vivid pink lipstick.

  ‘You gonna tell us who the lucky fella was then, Marcie?’ Jemma asked, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. ‘Ricardo or Brendon? Although, my money’s on Ricardo, personally, because Brendon was propping up the bar in Caesar’s Casino for most of last night so I’m hard pressed to work out how he could have found the time for a quick round of bedroom aerobics in between that and his time at the Blackjack table.’

  Marcie snapped shut her compact, throwing it back into her matching yellow handbag. ‘Jemma, darling. A lady never divulges too much information. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m meeting Brendon for a breakfast Bucks Fizz out on the Lido deck.’

  And with that, she swept out of the Lido Café in a swirl of yellow and green.

  ‘My money’s still on Ricardo,’ Jemma said, sitting back and folding her arms. ‘Cal and I were in Caesar’s last night after the show and Brendon was holding court in there by the Roulette wheel until at least 2am.’

  Aimee looked at Jemma. ‘What were you and Cal doing up until 2am?’

  ‘Aimee, darling, a lady never divulges too much information.’

  ‘Yeah, well, you’re no lady so that doesn’t really apply to you, does it?’

  ‘Cheeky cow!’ Jemma laughed, nudging Aimee, causing her to spill tea all over the table. ‘Anyway, one thing’s for sure, we weren’t doing anything anywhere near as exciting as what you and Danny were up to. And if your mam knew just how much information you’d divulged this morning she’d know her daughter ain’t no lady either.’

  Aimee couldn’t help but smile, because the memory of her night with Danny Johnson was still very, very fresh in her mind, and that’s the way she wanted it to stay. She wanted to forever remember every delicious detail of every kiss they’d shared, every touch of his fingers on her skin, every movement of his body against hers. It’d been the perfect night, hopefully to be followed up with the perfect day today. And more sex wouldn’t go amiss either. Because sex with Danny Johnson really had been a dream come true, and she wanted more. As much as he was willing to give. Because she might never get this chance again.

  They planned to take a taxi to the little town of Cassis for lunch and some quiet time away from the ship because, even thought they’d got about as close as two people could possibly get last night, they both still wanted to get to know each other that little bit more. For whatever reason. It just felt like the right thing to do. And it was difficult to do that when he was constantly being followed by a TV camera with his four band mates in tow.

  ‘I am so jealous of you,’ Jemma said, downing the last of her tea and picking up her rolled up beach towel from the seat beside her, leaning over to kiss Aimee’s cheek. ‘But so happy for you too, hon. You deserve a bit of fun after what Robbie the Rat did to you.’

  ‘Thanks, Jem,’ Aimee smiled, pushing the remains of her breakfast away from her. She’d suddenly lost her appetite – for food, anyway.

  ‘And I want to hear all about your day with Danny Boy over dinner this evening,’ Jemma smiled. ‘It’s Chinese night in The Fontana, and if last night’s fish‘n’chip fiasco was anything to go by, Bob trying to get to grips with chopsticks should be a riot. Quite possibly literally.’ Jemma stood up, sliding her dark glasses down over her eyes. ‘Right. I’m off to sun myself with a cocktail, a Jackie Collins, and a really good view of that rather attractive lifeguard. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, okay? See you later, Chick.’

  2:30pm

  Cassis was a charming little town in the south of France. A one-time fishing village, it was a beautiful and picturesque place i
n which to spend a few hours exploring its café-lined quays, its many jagged little coves and the gorgeous, sun-blushed beaches, which is exactly what Aimee and Danny had been doing for the past couple of hours. And it had been wonderful, holding hands and walking in the bright, French sunshine with this drop-dead-gorgeous man who looked like a dream come true in his combats, trainers and tight white T-shirt, his eyes covered by aviator sunglasses, his dark hair all over the place – just the way Aimee liked it.

  Now they’d stopped for lunch in a little harbour-side restaurant, enjoying a bottle of the rose wine that Cassis was famous for, taking in the view of the Mediterranean Sea spread out in front of them as they tucked into stunning cheese omelettes and salad – which was adorned with the most spectacular dressing Aimee had ever tasted – bowls of juicy black olives, and fresh, crusty bread.

  ‘Who’d have thought an omelette could taste so amazing,’ Danny sighed, sitting back in his chair, resting his hands on his now full belly. ‘Mine have certainly never tasted like that.’

  Aimee took another small sip of wine, aware that it was going to her head a bit. ‘Don’t you cook much then?’

  Danny shook his head. ‘I’m useless in the kitchen. Nearly burnt the place down once making toast.’

  ‘Did your wife do most of the cooking then?’ Why had she mentioned his wife? Why had she done that?

  Danny looked away for a second, squinting slightly as the sun bounced off the many small fishing boats moored in the harbour in front of them. ‘She was worse than me,’ he said, turning back to look at Aimee. ‘We kind of lived on ready meals and take-aways, and we tried to eat out as much as we could, y’know, when finances allowed.’

  Aimee took another sip of wine, sitting back to allow the waiter to clear away their empty plates, which he did silently and swiftly, placing the bill down on the table before leaving them alone again.

 

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