ATasteofLondon Read online

  But then…there’d been that wink. Or had that just been a blink? Or his imagination? Ryan sighed. It didn’t matter anyway—she was nowhere to be seen. His shoulders slumped as the adrenaline left him, and he turned and headed back down the opposite side of the cathedral. At least that way the volunteers would believe he’d actually been in to have a look around, rather than on his much more dubious—albeit failed—mission. He hoped he had some change to put in the donation box.

  Just as he was about to reach into his pocket and check, he heard, “Pssst!”

  He snapped his head up and narrowed his eyes as he scoured the area around him, then glanced over his shoulder.

  It came again.

  “Pssst! Over here.”

  He hadn’t realized it before, but the door to his right was open a crack and he could now see a sliver of the face that was peering out of it. Thankfully it was her and not some wizened old bishop. After a surreptitious look around to make sure no one was looking, he slipped through the door that had now been opened wide enough to admit him. Pushing it shut behind him—mercifully the creaking from the hinges wasn’t too loud—Ryan turned to look at his quarry.

  She was just as attractive close up. Her dark hair was straight and sleek, her green eyes intelligent and alert and her lips…very kissable. The woman also had a seriously hot body and Ryan felt a stirring in his groin which he sincerely hoped would not be wasted. By the way she was looking at him, Ryan suspected that she liked what she saw too.

  “Well,” he said, desperate to break the silence, “you’ve led me a merry dance, haven’t you?”

  She giggled and a further rush of blood thundered to his groin when Ryan saw that she had the cutest dimples. Was there no end to this girl’s sex appeal? He took a glance at her left hand. No, the coast was clear. She wasn’t married. Or at least, if she was, she wasn’t wearing a ring.

  Once she’d recovered from her mirth, which was still apparent from the flush of her cheeks, she answered his question. Ryan wasn’t sure what he’d expected her to say, but it certainly wasn’t, “I’m sorry. I had to. I’m not supposed to be seen with men, which is why I had to hide in here and hope you’d find me.”

  Ryan took a step back.

  “Hey…how old are you?” He’d thought she looked about the same age as him, but of course it was much easier for girls to make themselves look older.

  She giggled again. “Don’t worry, I’m eighteen, perfectly legal. I’ll show you my driving license if you want.”

  Ryan shook his head, a frown creeping across his features. “So what’s with all the secrecy then?”

  She lowered her lashes and Ryan’s heart thudded as his mind started to race through the possibilities. His gaze slid to the door. Suddenly he was convinced that the police were going to rush in at any minute, clap handcuffs on him and sling him in the back of a squad car.

  Her next words snapped him out of his thoughts. “Don’t look so worried. I’m a Catholic. Just not a very good one.”

  Ryan’s eyebrows almost shot into his hairline. That thought had certainly not occurred to him. He blinked, then recovered his senses enough to ask, “So, um, you’re here with your parents then?”

  “Oh God, no!” She covered her mouth with her hands. “Oops—I told you I wasn’t a very good Catholic. Taking the Lord’s name in vain in a cathedral of all places.”

  They both laughed, before she continued, “No, I’m here with a church group. We’re staying at the female-only hostel on the High Street. The old fuddy-duddies in charge think that just because we’re not sleeping in the same building as any males that we’re perfectly safe from ‘corruption’. They obviously don’t realize that there are so many more places to commit sins than in a bed.”

  “S-sins?” Ryan had to practically force the word out. He was no stranger to getting up to no good in unusual places, but in a cathedral with a not-so-good Catholic girl? His cock strained against his jeans, clearly more up to speed than his brain, which struggled to process what she was saying.

  “Yes,” she replied, grabbing his arms and pushing him so his back was against the door. She licked her lips and raised an eyebrow. “Sins.”

  Ryan’s hard-on twitched. She stood on tiptoes and pressed a cherry-flavored kiss to his lips. The length of her body molded against his and Ryan heard a light thump as she slid her shoulder bag off and let it fall to the floor.

  “So.” Her eyes glinted in the gloom as she crushed her small breasts harder against his chest, “how do you feel about corrupting a good Catholic girl?”

  Ryan gave his brain a veritable kick up the arse. He was pretty shell-shocked by her revelation, but if he fucked this up now he had no one to blame but himself. The girl was literally throwing herself at him. Her entire demeanor told Ryan that she was no angel, but that didn’t stop him wanting to do as she wanted, and corrupt her.

  He grinned at her and rolled his hips. “What do you have in mind?” Not that it mattered. He had a condom in his wallet so he was prepared for any eventuality.

  It seemed, however, that that wasn’t what she had in mind, because instead of answering his question, she gave a positively wicked grin and slid to her knees in front of him. In a move that cemented Ryan’s belief that she wasn’t in need of any corruption, she flipped open his belt, undid his button and fly and maneuvered his cock out of his boxers.

  A hungry look crossed her face and she pumped his shaft in her tiny hand a couple of times before sinking her mouth onto his cock. It was hot, wet and eager. She licked and slurped enthusiastically at his glans until it was good and lubricated before inching his length deeper inside.

  Ryan gasped and slammed his head back against the door, wishing he had something to grab on to. In the absence of anything else, he tangled his fingers into her hair and pulled lightly. He knew from experience not to piss off a woman who had her mouth—teeth and all—around his cock, so he just held on to the soft strands as she bobbed up and down.

  As one hand maneuvered the base of his shaft—she couldn’t take his length any farther down her throat, it seemed—the other slipped lower and cupped his balls. Ryan’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as the sensations began to overtake him and he felt the tingling in his groin which signaled his impending climax.

  “Hey,” he said, not wanting her to end up with an unexpected mouthful of spunk.

  She didn’t stop, merely making an “Mmm” sound around his prick, the vibrations of which only served to stimulate him further, leaving him unable to hold off his orgasm. He couldn’t help it—his grip on her hair tightened along with his balls and seconds later he was biting his bottom lip as jets of spunk filled the terrible Catholic girl’s mouth. She was unperturbed and slowed her pace on his cock only when it started to soften, licking and sucking up every last drop of cum until he was as clean as when she’d started—cleaner, even.

  Ryan’s chest heaved as he sucked in air, trying to calm himself down and return his heart rate to normal. It was hardly surprising that he was so worked up, though—he had just been given a blowjob in a cathedral. A fucking excellent blowjob, actually.

  The girl stood, wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, raised an eyebrow and gave Ryan a cheeky smile.

  “Better?” she asked, which Ryan thought was quite possibly the most ridiculous question he’d ever heard.

  He spluttered, “Better? Are you fucking joking? That was incredible.”

  She gave a mock curtsey and Ryan tucked his cock away and did up his jeans.

  “Now,” he said, reaching for her, “come here, and let me return the favor.”

  She danced out of his grasp and gave a wry grin.

  “I’m sorry,” she replied, looking genuinely disappointed, “but I’ve got to go. I told the others in the group that I was coming here to pray. If I’m away much longer, they’ll send a search party.”

  “Well,” Ryan replied, barely holding in his mirth, “you have been on your knees!”

  The girl stuck
out her tongue. “That’s true. Anyway,” she stretched and gave him another kiss, “I do really have to go. It’s been fun.”

  “Wait.” He wasn’t sure why he’d said it—he was still leaning against the door, so she couldn’t go anywhere until he moved anyway.

  “I’m in town until tomorrow evening. Can I see you again?”

  A flash of dimples. “I really did make an impression, huh?”

  Ryan said nothing, merely folding his arms sternly and waiting for an answer.

  “Okay,” she finally replied, then held out her hand. “Give me your phone.”

  He retrieved his phone from his pocket, unlocked the screen and handed it to her without a word, watching as she typed in a number then passed it back to him. He glanced at it.

  “The right number?” he asked.

  She nodded. “The right number. Drop me a text in an hour or so and I’ll let you know what I’m doing later and if I can get away.”

  Ryan moved away from the door, then grabbed the handle and pulled it open for her.

  “Okay, I will. I’ll wait here for a bit just in case anyone’s around. We don’t want to look too suspicious, now do we? Especially if any of your buddies have come to pay their respects to the Lord too.”

  “Good idea. I’ll wait to hear from you, then.”

  “Yep.” They shared a smile, then she slipped out of the door.

  Suddenly, a thought occurred to Ryan and he poked his head out, hoping nobody was looking.

  “Wait,” he whispered.

  She turned, her gaze flipping from side to side as if to make sure no one was watching. “What?”

  “What’s your name?”

  The dimples appeared again. “Rose.”

  With that, she turned and walked away.

  Ducking back into the room for a second, Ryan made sure his clothes were straight, rubbed a hand across his cropped hair, then glanced down at the phone still in his hand. He pressed a few buttons to save the number under “Rose”, then compiled a text message to her and hit Send.

  I’m Ryan, by the way. Hope to see you later x

  He stuck with a single kiss, wanting to seem interested but not over-keen. Seconds later, he heard the beeping of a phone in the distance, amplified by the acoustics of the building.

  He grinned. It obviously had been the right number, then. He just hoped she’d be able to get away later—despite the spectacular head he’d received, his appetite wasn’t quite sated and she was the one to do it.

  Chapter Three

  Ryan had just put the phone down on Kristian when the text came through. It was from Rose, inviting him to a gig at a pub in the area later that evening. She didn’t tell him the name of the band or the type of music they played, but it didn’t matter. He wanted to see her again, so he’d go even if it was a Steps tribute band. He doubted it would be, though. He knew the pub and it wasn’t exactly a cheesy pop place. With any luck, though, he wouldn’t be paying much attention to the band anyway.

  He thumbed a reply, then lay back onto his bed. The dorm room was empty, which was why he’d gone in there to talk to his friend. The last thing he needed was an audience if he was going to receive bad news. Thankfully it was quite the opposite. They had indeed gotten Dave to hospital in really good time, so he was going to be just fine. Naturally he’d have to rest up and take it easy for a while, but there was no further danger. Kristian couldn’t sort out any transport to get him back to London in time for their Eurostar journey, but he was catching a later train, so he’d be in Paris a few hours after Ryan was.

  Although he’d made a halfhearted offer to postpone his trip so he could catch the same train as Kristian, Ryan was glad his friend had refused to let him. One, because he had a ticket that couldn’t be amended, so he’d lose the money, and two, because it meant he’d be able to visit the Louvre. Kristian wasn’t interested in visiting the world-famous art museum, so it was the perfect excuse for Ryan to go without feeling guilty about leaving his friend alone in a strange city while he went, or dragging him around and boring him out of his mind.

  Ryan grinned. Things were definitely looking up. Just this morning he’d thought the trip was going to be cancelled. Now he had a date with a hot girl, Dave was going to be just fine, Kristian was going to be on his way back to the capital tomorrow, and he had a visit to one of his favorite museums in his near future.

  He glanced at his watch and his smile widened. Because he’d been woken so early that morning, it felt much later than it was, but in fact he had a few hours to kill before he had to get ready to go out and meet Rose at the pub.

  After a few minutes tapping at his phone, Ryan had a plan. He’d head across the river and visit the Monument. In spite of his many previous trips to London, he’d never climbed the three hundred and eleven steps of the great stone column that had been built to commemorate the Great Fire of London in 1666 or visited the nearby Pudding Lane where the fire had started.

  He rolled off his bed and left the dorm room. Grabbing his camera from his locker, he headed outside. Turning right up Borough High Street, Ryan followed the road until he was across the river, then dropped down to the lower street level and made his way along Lower Thames Street until he reached the corner of Fish Street Hill. He could see it now, towering above the surrounding buildings, and he headed up the hill, across the square and through the open door at the bottom of the column.

  He waited patiently as a girl in front of him rooted around in her bag, seemingly struggling to find her purse. It was hardly surprising, Ryan noted, given the size of the bag. He suspected it contained the proverbial kitchen sink and many more things besides. Though apparently not the elusive purse. The girl muttered as the woman behind the counter threw Ryan an apologetic glance.

  “Sorry,” the girl said, looking up at him, “I’m holding you up.”

  She stated the obvious, yet Ryan barely noticed. When she’d been riffling through her bag, her blonde hair had covered her face, but now Ryan could see. And he really liked what he saw. The girl had a beautiful heart-shaped face, wide blue eyes and what he and Kristian liked to call blowjob lips.

  He smiled at her. “It’s okay,” he said, “I’m not in a rush.”

  The girl smiled back. “It’s in here somewhere, I promise.”

  “I tell you what, then. How about I pay for both of us, then you can give me the money when you find your purse?”

  “How do you know I’m good for it?” she countered cheekily.

  “You a student?”

  She nodded.

  “Well then. It’s two quid. If you make a run for it, then I haven’t exactly squandered a fortune, have I?”

  He turned to the cashier, handed her the money with a grin and took the tickets she gave him. Turning, he indicated that his new companion should ascend the stairs before him. Naturally he was just being polite, but his actions had a bonus—he’d be able to watch her arse wiggle as she climbed to the top of the Monument. A gentleman with an agenda.

  “Thank you,” she said. “You’re very kind. I do have the money, you know.”

  “I don’t doubt it. But don’t worry about it now. Just worry about getting up three hundred and eleven steps!”

  She laughed. “That’s true. I’m not exactly fit. You may need to give me CPR.”

  Her tone was light but her gaze met his and her expression was intense. She was flirting with him. Result.

  “I think I can manage that,” he countered. “I’m first aid-qualified, so you’re in safe hands.”

  At that she glanced down at his hands, then back at his face.

  “I’m glad to hear it…”

  “Ryan.”

  “Hayley.”

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Hayley.”

  He indicated the spiral staircase once more. “After you.”

  She flashed him a smile, then shifted her bag on her shoulder and began to climb the steps. Ryan started after her, leaving a few stairs between them. He didn’t want to crowd her
personal space, plus being too close meant he’d be staring at the middle of her back rather than her arse. And her arse was definitely a view worth checking out. Possibly even better than the view he was climbing three hundred and eleven steps for, he decided, as he enjoyed the sway of her rounded cheeks in her well-fitting jeans.

  The climb wasn’t a swift one. Only a super-fit person could get all the way to the top without stopping at least a couple of times for a breather, plus they had to keep flattening themselves against the wall to let people descending the stairs get past. By the time Ryan and Hayley got to the top of the Monument they were both huffing and puffing. He followed her out of the door at the top and onto the narrow viewing platform that ran the perimeter of the column. He laughed as Hayley slumped onto the barrier that stopped them plummeting one hundred and sixty feet to the ground below.

  “Fucking hell,” she said, reaching a hand into her voluminous bag, “I think I’m ready for that CPR now.”

  Her hand emerged seconds later, grasping a bottle of water. Hayley unscrewed the lid and took several mouthfuls before wiping the top and offering the bottle to Ryan. He smiled and took the water from her before swallowing a few gulps down himself.

  “Thanks,” he said, handing the bottle back. “That handbag does have its uses after all.”

  “Shut up, you. Surely you know how much stuff us women like to carry around with us?”

  “But not their purses, it would seem,” he responded with a huge grin, earning him a slap on the arm.

  “Ow,” he said, cradling his arm and pouting, “what was that for?”

  “You deserved it,” Hayley said, reaching into the now infamous bag once more. “I told you, I do have my purse on me.”

  Seconds later, she waved it triumphantly in his face.

  “See? Now let me get your money.”

  Ryan shrugged. “You really don’t need to worry. It’s only two quid.”

  “No, no,” Hayley replied, wagging a finger at him. “You’ve teased me enough. I don’t want to owe you money and give you something else to mock me about.”