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‘Do you think your own kids will be on this clifftop in thirty years’ time, dancing to Phil Collins, trying to replicate the most romantic night of their mother’s life?’
‘You’re backing yourself then, if you think this is the most romantic night of my life,’ I say, pressing my tongue into my cheek.
‘Damn, I knew I should have gone for the band,’ he says, and I swallow a laugh as I lean my head against his shoulder.
‘Seriously, though, I think I’ve learned not to hold on to other people’s love stories too tightly,’ I say. ‘That it’s not the story that’s important.’
Ted holds me tighter, an electric charge coursing between us, and I tilt my head, allowing my lips to find his.
Back at L’Étacq, Ted’s house is empty, so we walk down to the fisherman’s cottage. Ted has brought food to cook us, Jersey Royals and lobster from the fishery at the north end of the bay. Scamp bounds across the wall and jumps up at Ted.
‘Hey Scamp,’ Ted says, picking him up and nuzzling his face into the top of the dog’s head.
‘You made it then?’ Sandy calls over the wall, a delighted grin on her ruddy, round face.
‘He did,’ I say, but we can’t stop for small talk now. Ted puts Scamp down, and I pull him inside, the bag of food left on the side, then drag him over to the bed.
‘We’re going to do this now, are we? I’m not going to wine and dine you first?’ he asks, his voice low, his firm hands clasped around my waist.
‘Oh, I think the Phil Collins clifftop move was all the wining and dining you’ll ever need to do, Ted Palmerston,’ and then I let out an involuntary squeal as I feel his hand caress the skin on my back.
‘Do you want me to stop?’ he asks, his face creasing with concern.
‘No, no, I definitely don’t want you to stop – that was a good squeal, sorry.’
He slowly unbuttons my blouse and we lie on the bed, his hands gently stroking my waist. I reach up to pull off his shirt, desperate to feel his bare body against mine. He leans forward and I feel the thrust of him beneath his jeans. A shiver of anticipation arcs through me. I want to be in control, so I roll over, straddling him, rolling my hips against his, pressing his hands above his head.
‘Where did you come from?’ he says, his voice heavy, his eyes following mine, as though marvelling at me. I bend down to kiss his chest, wanting to lay claim to every inch of him. ‘I haven’t – I haven’t done this in a while,’ he says, sounding as though he is desperately trying to stay in control.
‘I’m sure you’ll remember what to do,’ I say, with a breathy laugh as I start unbuttoning his jeans. Wow, Ted is definitely no Ken doll.
He reaches both his arms beneath mine and pulls me up to his eye level.
‘I want to see your face—’ he murmurs, as his body presses against mine, removing any air between us.
Then, even though there aren’t any cameras, we have the movie sex. You know that bit where you see a close-up of a man kissing a woman’s neck, and it’s all low lighting and dewy skin; that happens. The shot of the man’s rippling back muscles tensing, as the woman’s hands clasp around his whole body with her fingers spread wide; that happens. The part where the woman’s toes stretch out and curl in orgasmic bliss; that happens, three times. We even move to the shower and do that scene where you see a hand press against the glass and then it swipes down the steam, because, you know, the shower is steamy but so is what’s happening inside. If I died this second, I’d want my gravestone to read: ‘Died happy, having the movie sex’.
Afterwards, as we lie there entangled in each other’s arms, glowing with perspiration, I say, ‘That was pretty awesome, right? It’s not just me?’
Ted laughs and kisses my head. ‘That was, indeed, awesome.’
‘Is that how you usually do it?’ I ask.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, are you always that good?’
Ted takes his hand from behind my head and sits up; his forehead furrows, but only into one line. ‘I don’t know, Laura, it’s not a competition.’
‘No, I didn’t mean for you to compare, I just meant – maybe you’re just really good at sex, and I’m the one who’s been doing it wrong all these years.’
Ted gives me a friendly scowl and reaches out to lay his hand on top of mine. ‘I don’t think that’s possible.’ Then he turns onto his side, leans over and lays a trail of hot kisses up my neck before whispering in my ear, ‘You are spectacular. You have woken me up, and I never want to be asleep again.’
