Page 61 of Hard Tail
I grabbed his arm. “Sorry for what? Matt, none of this is your fault.”
“It’s my fault Steve had it in for you.” He ran a hand through his shaggy curls as he stared at the fridge. “I—well, I said some stuff about you, the day I met you—and he… I think he kind of got the idea I, well…that I liked you.”
Everything went so still I thought for a moment time had stopped altogether. “Was he right?” I asked, my voice hoarse.
Matt didn’t speak for a moment. “Adam…Adam said you two’d split up,” he said, turning back to face me at last.
Maybe it wasn’t an answer to my question—but God, I hoped theyesI’d managed to read between the lines wasn’t just wishful thinking. My heart was beating so hard I worried for my ribs. “Yes,” I said managing not to let my voice crack on the word. “You know…you know there was never anything serious between me and him, don’t you?”
Matt nodded slowly.
“And you know I… If it hadn’t been for Steve, and then Adam—you know I, well…” That time my voice did crack. I hadn’t known how to finish that sentence anyhow. “Matt…” Failing for a second time, I gave up on words and put my hands gently around his waist. He didn’t immediately shake them off, which I hoped was a good sign. “Do—” I cleared my throat. “Do you think you might…?”
Empires rose and fell. Stars burst onto the night sky, then fizzled out to nothing. A whole season ofX Factorcame and went, the winner rocketing from obscurity to number one, gabbling excitedly about living the dream, then disappearing to stack shelves in Tesco.
Finally, Matt nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I do.”
“Thank God,” I breathed and kissed him.
His arms were warm and trembled slightly around my neck, and he tasted of lager and salted crisps and relief. Funny how I’d never liked the taste of lager until now. I explored his mouth hungrily, memorising its contours, tracing his broken tooth with my tongue. I couldn’t hold him tightly enough; there were clothes in the way, for a start. Matt’s work-roughened hands slid from my neck to my chest, bared by my open dressing gown.
“I can feel your heart beating,” he whispered.
A hundred corny clichés quivered on my tongue but, thankfully, died unspoken. “Let me feel yours,” I said instead, tugging at his T-shirt. Matt pulled it over his head in one easy motion, and I pressed against him, revelling in the feel of his skin on mine, cool after my overheated bath. My hands roamed over his back and dropped down to slide inside his blessedly baggy jeans and reach his arse. It was firm and tight from all the cycling he did, and I kneaded it gently through the cotton of his boxer shorts, hardly able to believe this was finally happening.
Matt ran his hands over my chest, rubbed his thumbs over my nipples. My grip on his arse tightened involuntarily. “Ah—sorry,” I gasped, breathing hard.
“Don’t be,” he said, looking up at me with wide eyes. I wanted desperately to kiss him, but I needed to look at him more, to burn the sight of his face into my memory so that maybe, finally, I’d believe he was mine.
Was he mine? He was obviously—very obviously—interested in having sex with me, but did that mean anything, really? “I don’t want a one-night stand,” I said in a rush, worried I’d bottle out before finishing the sentence otherwise.
Matt looked at me for an interminable moment. “Me neither,” he said at last.
I closed my eyes for a moment in sheer, blessed relief. When I opened them again, he was smiling at me.
“What?” I asked, paranoia rising.
His smile widened. “Nothing. Only—you’re not like a lot of blokes I’ve known.”
“In what way?” I asked suspiciously.
“Oh—it’s just, most blokes only seem to care about getting their end away, you know?” His smile wobbled for a moment. “It’s nice to meet someone who’s not like that.”
I had a brief but strong urge to demand names and addresses. “Matt, you know it’s never been like that for me. Not with you,” I added, in a sudden burst of honesty. “Not that I don’t want to—you know, but that’s not what it’s all about.” I took a deep breath. “If that was all I cared about, I’d have stayed with Adam.”
It was mean of me, and I’d probably burn in hell for it—God knows, I deserved to—but I was glad when Matt flinched at the mention of my ex.
“But I’m here with you now,” I carried on. “And that’s the only place I want to be.”
Matt seemed to melt in my arms. I pressed my lips to his, kissing him with a passion I hadn’t even known I possessed. He answered, his arms tightening about me and his mouth devouring mine, invading it. Our erections pressed against each other with heat that seared even through our clothes. “God, I want to get you naked,” I breathed as he released my mouth to gulp in air. I ran my hands up and down his back, then let them creep down to their favourite resting place, Matt’s arse. “Is this too soon?” I asked, humping against him. “I mean, we’ve both just come out of relationships—”
“Yeah. Probably,” Matt muttered, sucking on my left earlobe. “Maybe we ought to take things a bit slower.” His hand slid down the back of my boxer briefs, which were all I was wearing under my dressing gown. Which, by the way, was beginning to feel way too hot.
“Be sensible about it. Don’t try to—ah!” I gasped as Matt’s finger slipped into my crack. “—walk before we can run.”
“Take it easy,” he breathed, nibbling a way along my jawline.
“Or,” I suggested, grinding myself into him, “we could just fuck like bunnies and worry about it later.”
