Page 102 of Worth Every Risk

When we’re both dressed, she holds out the scrunched up bit of fabric. “What do you want to do with this?”

I take it from her and throw it into the bin. “Never liked it anyway.”

She puts a hand on her hip and looks me up and down. “You suddenly seem so much younger, Matthew James Hawkston. Let’s go eat.”

29

ARIES

The evening is unusually balmy for the UK as we drift hand in hand through Covent Garden. I’m thankful I’m wearing trainers, because these cobblestones would be lethal otherwise.

This whole evening has been surreal, from sex on the roof, to strolling around like a real couple, as if we’re on holiday. Even when we were actually away, on the boat, we couldn't do this. We were so stealthy, stealing kisses and glances and touches like we’d be sent down for life if anyone caught us.

This is reckless in comparison, but the feel of Matt’s large fingers interlinked with my smaller ones, while we're out in public, is a sensation I didn’t know would give me so much pleasure.

We eat at a little restaurant called Clos Maggiore, which might be the most romantic restaurant I’ve ever been in. The ceiling is decorated in greenery and blossom and the place is lit with tiny lights. It’s like eating in a fairy dell.

Matt orders the wine, which is delicious. I eat so much I’m positively bursting, and then we share a pudding. A chocolate fondant that’s warm and melting and sickly sweet.

Matt takes a few bites and pushes it towards me. “All yours. Too sweet for me.”

“Yum. Thanks.”

I scoop up the rest and chow it down as Matt sips on the rest of his wine. There’s a heated look in his eyes.

“What?” I ask, my spoon, laden with chocolate sauce, halfway to my mouth.

He smiles. “I want to eat you as much as you want to eat that pudding.”

“Wow.” I pop the final spoonful in my mouth and then, before I’ve even chewed, I say, “You must want to eat me a hell of a lot.”

“I do. Let’s get out of here.” He waves to the waiter with one lazy raise of his hand, not taking his eyes off me.

A few minutes later, we’re back outside, only now it’s dark. Groups of tourists and youngsters cross the market place, and their loud joyous voices fill the air. There’s a hum of excitement in Covent Garden, as if only good things happen here; things that speak of the promise of life and happiness and unlimited possibilities. My heart is burgeoning with the sensation, and my head is swirling with expensive wine, and I’m giddy at the proximity of Matt. I’m so high, I feel like I’m on drugs.

Matt tugs on my hand, pulling me into an alcove.

“What—”

In seconds, his hands are around me, his lips warm and desperate over mine, swallowing my weak protests.

His hot palms and strong fingers are all over me, in my hair, down my back, squeezing my bum. It’s like he’s touching me everywhere at once, pulling me against him, the thick erection at his groin pushing against me. I gasp.

“Always ready,” he mutters, then shakes his head like he’s disappointed somehow. “Fuck, you make me so hard. I’m like a teenager around you.” He kisses me again, the rough stubble on his chin grazing my skin. He drives his tongue deeper intomy mouth, and warmth spills through me, desire coiling low between my legs.

I slide my hand over his erection and he groans. It’s such a feral noise, as if he’s only half-human in this moment, and full of such need that I can’t help sliding my hand into his trousers to grip the hard, hot length of it. I begin to stroke up and down the soft skin of his hard dick.

Bang!

My body contracts in fear, and I whip my hand out of Matt’s trousers so fast I catch it on the zipper.

“What the fuck?” Matt says, cradling me against the broad strength of his chest. He holds me like I’m precious, smothering me against his hard muscle, the scent of him engulfing me.Protecting me.My heart pounds and I can feel the quickened beat of his heart too.

A crumpled can lies on the ground next to us.

“Get a room,” calls a male voice.

I twist out of Matt’s grip to see who’s shouting at us. A group of teenage boys, probably eighteen or nineteen, are stumbling around in the square behind us. They look drunk. One of them kicks another empty beer can in our direction.

---