He wanted…something. A naked woman in his bed, a beautiful woman he could lose himself in, distract himself and maybe even claim some happiness—even if only for a short while. He wanted to leave the village and go and get drunk somewhere, totally and utterly pissed so his worries faded away into the deepest recesses of his mind. Sadly neither of those things was an option.
Matthew decided to settle for a close third. He’d go to the pub. Yes, it meant being among people, some of whom would be shooting him looks, silently accusing him, but he didn’t care. There was no way he was hiding inside the house. It would be almost like an admission of guilt, as would running away. No, fuck it. He’d go out there, face everyone and let them say and do whatever they wanted to his face, while he drank the contents of the Miners Arms. Yeah, he’d still get drunk, but he’d do it on home turf.
After showering, changing and wrapping a bandage around his “injured” wrist, he stuffed his wallet and phone into his pocket and headed out, wondering again where his brother was. He’d drop him a text once he got to the pub, let him know where hewas if Isaac wanted to talk or had anything to share. Perhaps they could get shitfaced together—it had been a while.
He shoved open the front door to the pub and a pang of guilt hit him as it swung back and hit the wall, making a mark on the paint. Fuck. He’d have a go at that with some cleaning spray and a cloth when he was next working. Dennis didn’t deserve to have his pub vandalized by his grumpy employee—especially since, so far, he’d been supportive of his and Isaac’s plight.
Making a mental note to sort the mark when he next got chance, he stepped through and took the spare stool at the bar. Gordon wasn’t there, but he wasn’t going to risk sitting in his place—he had enough people pissed off with him at the moment.
Dennis himself appeared, smiling. “Hey, mate. All right?”
“Yeah, thanks.” His words didn’t even convince him, so he knew they wouldn’t convince his boss. “No, I’m not. That’s why I’m here. Please can you help me get drunk?”
Turning away, Dennis grabbed a glass and filled it with whisky, then placed it in front of Matthew. “There’s a start. You’re paying for the rest, but that one’s on me, just to say…you know.” He lowered his voice. “I’m on your side. You can be a total pain in the arse at times but you’re also one of the nicest blokes I know.”
Matthew’s lips curved up into a genuine smile. “Thank you, Dennis. For the drink and the words. Both of them mean a lot.”
“You’re welcome. Let me know when you’re ready for another.” With that he gave a nod and headed off to serve the next customer.
Matthew swiveled on the stool and surveyed the room behind him. It was still the middle of the day, so there weren’t many villagers about, mainly tourists. They plopped their National Trust carrier bags and Eyam Village maps onto their seats and tucked into good food and enjoyed the pleasant atmosphere before heading back out to continue exploring. They had absolutely no idea what day-to-day life was like here and even less of an idea what Matthew was going through and why.
He caught the gaze of a middle-aged gent sipping at his pint and smiled. Looking a little taken aback at first, the man smiled back, probably remembering that he was in a small village where everyone knew everyone and it was normal to speak and be polite—not a large town or city where anonymity and rudeness were often the name of the game.
Satisfied he’d not scared the shit out of the bloke, Matthew continued to surreptitiously check out the rest of the clientele. Before he’d gone too much further, his gaze suddenly stopped wandering. It was stuck on the table in the corner by the window. Or, more accurately, the personsitting at the table in the corner by the window. A gorgeous-looking brunette with a figure to die for was enthusiastically putting away the contents of her plate—the chef’s pie of the day, he suspected. Spearing a chip, she dipped it into the gravy inside the pie and popped it into her mouth, the expression on her face clearly showing her appreciation.
Downing the rest of his whisky and calling for another, Matthew made up his mind. Leaving the village to have some fun was not an option, so if the sexy tourist was single and up for it, he’d have a good time with her instead.
Chapter Eighteen
Matthew waited until the woman was done with her dinner before he approached—he didn’t want to intrude or piss her off before he’d even tried to chat her up. He didn’t leave it too long, though, as he didn’t want to risk her paying her bill and scarpering before he got chance to speak to her.
Picking up his drink, he strode over to her table, looking as open and friendly as possible—he’d been accused of looking grumpy on more than one occasion. “Hello,” he said, flashing the pretty woman a smile. “Mind if I join you?”
She looked surprised at first but quickly arranged her face into a polite expression and indicated he should take a seat. “Not at all.”
“I’m Matthew Adams.” He reached out a hand, and the brunette took it.
“Sally Madeley. Pleased to meet you.”
“And I you. I hope you don’t mind me intruding on you.”
“No, it’s fine. You’re not intruding.”
Matthew beamed. “Oh good, that’s great.” He realized he had no idea what to say next. Normally when he picked up women for one-nighters or flings he was pretty drunk and in the kind of place where it was the norm. Here, in his local pub, which contained people he knew, it was suddenly much more difficult. Fuck, he hadn’t thought about that. He noted with relief that her glass was almost empty. “Hey, can I get you another drink?”
“Um, okay. Yeah, that would be great. It’s just a lime and lemonade, thanks. No ice.”
“Sure I can’t tempt you on anything stronger?” He waggled his eyebrows.
Sally laughed, then looked at her watch. “It’s a bit early for that, isn’t it?”
He glanced down at his whisky. “Huh. I suppose it is.”
She obviously read his tone and body language, as she replied, “Bad day already, eh?”
Matthew nodded. “Something like that.”
“Go on then. I’ll have a small glass of white wine, please.”
“Coming right up.” He stood and went back to the bar and placed the order, and a minute later carried it to Sally’s table, putting it down in front of her. “There you go.”
“Wow,” she said, “that was fast service. Did you threaten the barman or something?” Her amused expression showed she was joking.
“Nah, I didn’t need to. He’s my friend. And my boss.”
“Oh right, you work here?”
“I sure do. Amongst other places. What brings you here? To Eyam, I mean. Not the pub.”
“I’m on holiday, staying in one of the cottages in the village for a week. And thanks.” She pointed to the wine.
“You’re welcome. Holiday, eh? What’s one of those?”
“It’s where you take some time off from your everyday life and relax. Preferably go somewhere new. Oh, and have fun. I’d forgotten what all of that was like, according to my friends, so here I am.”
“A workaholic, huh?”
“Yep. Sounds like you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Sad to say I do. Damn, I could really do with taking some time off. I live here, work here, my friends and family are here…”
“I can’t help with the time off,” Sally said, taking a sip of her wine and peering at him from beneath her eyelashes. “But perhaps I can help with the fun part.”
Matthew raised an eyebrow. Looked as if she was making the first move. Excellent. He hadn’t been betting on it, but he’d take it. “What do you have in mind?” He let his gaze rake up and down her body, ensuring there was no mistaking his interest in her.
“I think you know.” It was her turn to raise an eyebrow, and she teamed it with a wicked grin that had the blood rushing to Matthew’s groin in seconds. “Want to finish these drinks and get out of here?”
“Yes,” he said, picking up
his glass and downing the amber liquid in one. “Yes I do.”
“Christ,” she said, eyeing the empty glass, “I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended by the speed you just gulped down that drink.”
“Flattered.” He grinned. “Most definitely flattered.”
“Hmm, okay then. But you’ll have to wait more than two seconds for me to finish mine. I’ve barely started it yet!”
“Not a problem. Take your time.”
Sally narrowed her eyes, seemingly not quite believing him. Then she picked up her drink and sipped at it. Slowly, delicately.
The wench—she was fucking teasing him! What’s more, he realized as more blood thundered to his dick, he liked it. Grinning, he kept quiet and didn’t let on that her tactics were working—his hormones were rushing around his body at a hundred miles an hour and he could have happily thrown her over his shoulder and taken her to bed. But he wouldn’t. He suspected she wouldn’t be totally averse to that kind of caveman-like behavior, but it would have to wait until they were in private. Drawing attention to himself and Sally was not a good idea—the fact that he was sitting with her was probably already making tongues wag in the back of the pub. He didn’t want them to know he was about to take her home too.
The thought of tongues wagging made him think of his brother. Isaac would not be at all happy to find out Matthew had slept with someone in the village. She might not be a villager but it didn’t matter. It still went against their self-imposed agreement, and considering the grief Matthew had given his brother over Nathaniel…it was hypocritical, to say the least.
There was no way he was going to back out now. Sally was beautiful, sexy and willing—exactly what he needed, in other words. He just had to be subtle about it, that was all.
“Hey,” he said, looking around to make sure none of the villagers could hear him. “Where exactly are you staying? I’ll wait for you there.”
Sally frowned. “Why don’t you wait for me now? We can go together.”
Jerking his head in the direction of the bar, Matthew replied, “Because this is a small village where everyone knows everyone else’s business. And I don’t want them to know mine.”
“Okay…” She sounded doubtful but told him which cottage she was staying in.
“I’ll see you there when you’ve finished your drink. Don’t rush, though—it’ll look really suspicious. Okay? Bye.” He stood and collected the empty glasses and put them on the bar before calling to Dennis, “I’m off, mate! See you later.”
“Cheers, Matthew. See you.”
Leaving the pub, he let out a sigh as he stepped into the open air. Given all his secrets, he should really be much better at hiding things. But the truth was he hated skulking about, telling lies, avoidance techniques. As annoying as it was, it was necessary. Both his bigger, life-changing secrets, and the fun one he was going to indulge in very soon.
Sally had told him her cottage was up at the other end of the village. It wasn’t far from his house, and as he walked up there, he couldn’t decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Somewhere in between, he supposed. Good because it was away from the main hubs of the village—the pub, village shops and so on—but bad because it meant he had to walk past home to get there. If Isaac was there and he saw him, he’d want to know where Matthew was going. Which would involve another bloody lie.
As he headed past Alex Kennedy’s shop, Matthew scented his brother. Quickly, he picked up his pace—it seemed his brother was in the shop, so if Matthew could get a way up the road and out of sight before Isaac came out, he wouldn’t be spotted. It was enough incentive to run, really, but he resisted the temptation. That would definitely attract attention. Instead he maintained his normal pace and looked as nonchalant as possible, only stopping short of putting his hands in his pockets and whistling because he knew how ridiculous that would be. An admission of being up to something.
After a few minutes he passed his house and continued along the road, making directly for Sally’s cottage and wondering where on earth he could wait without looking totally dodgy. Finally he plumped for sitting on the doorstep—without his considerable height in play, the wall in front of the house and the bushes in between the door and the wall hid him from view. He felt like an idiot, like a teenage boy waiting for his girlfriend to finish her dinner so she could come out and canoodle in the park or something.
But he wasn’t, he reminded himself. He was a grown-up, mature man who was waiting for another grown-up, mature person. Suddenly he wondered whether he’d replaced the condom in his wallet from last time he’d been up in Sheffield. He might not be susceptible to human disease, but he didn’t want to risk getting a human woman pregnant—who knew what species the child would end up being? He’d long since come to terms with what he was but he still didn’t want to foist it on someone else.
Fishing his wallet from his pocket, he opened it up and peered into the compartment where he usually kept his protection, heaving a sigh of relief when he saw the foil packet nestled there.
“I do like man who’s prepared,” came a voice.
Grinning up at Sally, he said, “What can I say? I’m a responsible type of chap.”
Moving past him and unlocking the door, she ushered him in. “Not too responsible, I hope.” She winked, then turned and closed the door.
“No.” Shoving his wallet hurriedly back into his pocket, he spun her around and backed her up against the wall. Bringing his face up close to hers, Matthew breathed, “Not too responsible.”
Just before he closed the gap between them, Sally gasped, “Ooh, good.”
Shutting his eyes and slanting his mouth over hers, Matthew had to concentrate hard on not coming on too strong or rough. It had been a while and he didn’t want to make Sally regret inviting him into her bed. Well she hadn’t invited him into her bed, exactly. Just a bed, and his own hadn’t been an option in case Isaac had come home.
As he put his hands on her hips, she arched her back and wrapped her arms around his neck, moving eagerly into his embrace. Matthew marveled at how warm she was, how responsive. And how damn sexy. Slipping his tongue between her lips, he sought out hers, tangling them together in an erotic, needy, toe-curling French kiss. He could taste the white wine she’d drunk and he guessed she could probably taste the whisky he’d had. It was a heady mixture that quickly pushed them higher into bliss, into a more heated, passionate clinch, one that had them gasping for air in no time at all.
Her breasts squished against his chest, and in return his rigid cock pressed insistently against her stomach. Twisting her face away from his, she said breathlessly, “Fuck. I think we’d better hurry and get upstairs before we end up doing it right against this damn wall.”
Matthew’s cock twitched—he had no problem at all with fucking her up against the wall, but she was right. Going to bed was a much better option, one that would give him the luxury of undressing her, drinking in the sight of her body, then exploring it with his hands, mouth and finally his dick. He could hardly wait.
“Yeah, come on.” Kicking off his shoes, he reached for her hand and pulled her after him as he strode up the stairs in search of her bedroom. It was a small cottage, so it only took him a couple of seconds to locate the right room. Letting go of Sally, he crossed the room and closed the curtains, then turned around to see what she was doing.
She’d shut the door, and not much else. Meeting his gaze with some difficulty, she opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again without making a sound.
“Hey,” he said gently, moving to stand in front of her. “What’s the matter? You haven’t changed your mind, have you? We don’t have to if you have.”
Her eyes widened. “No, oh no! I haven’t changed my mind. God, no. I want to. It’s just…it’s been a while.”
Holding back a sigh of relief, Matthew grinned. “Phew, that’s good. Because I really want to as well. And it’s been a while for me too.”
Looking him up and down, Sally met h
is eyes again and frowned. “You’re just being nice now ’cause I said it.”
“No.” He took her hands, lifted them and pressed kisses to her knuckles. “I’m not. I’m serious. Why do you think I don’t want any of the villagers knowing my business? If they knew what I was up to right now, they’d probably be out buying new suits and hats and putting an engagement announcement in the newspaper.”
She giggled. “God, are they that bad?”
“I’m afraid so. Now let’s forget all that crap. I’d like to have that fun you promised me, please.”
Nodding, Sally crossed over to the bed and sat down on the mattress, then scooted back so she was lying with her head on the pillows. “Come on then,” she said, smiling, “I’m ready when you are.”
Retrieving the condom, he placed it on the bedside table, stuffed his wallet back in his pocket, then took off his shirt. Dropping it on the floor, he moved over to the bed, where Sally watched him, eyebrows raised.
“Hey,” she said, “why d’ya stop? I was enjoying that little strip show of yours.” Her dilated pupils told him just how true her statement was.
“All right,” he said, stepping back again. “I’ll do it. But you’d better not be delaying the inevitable, sweetheart, because once I’m naked it’s your turn.”
He watched her face carefully as he bent each of his legs in turn to remove his socks, then undid his belt buckle. She gulped and he smirked, popping the button and slowly unzipping his fly. Next he shoved the jeans right down and stepped out of them, leaving him in just his boxers. Now there was just a thin layer of cotton between her gaze and his cock. And Sally was just as aware of that fact as he was. With no pretense of looking elsewhere, she stared at his bulge, shifting uncomfortably on the mattress. Matthew couldn’t help wondering if she was as wet as he was hard. He damn well hoped so, because he wanted to bury his head between her thighs and lick her until she screamed.
Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, he inched it down, deliberately going as slowly as possible because he knew once he got his hands on her he wouldn’t be able to hold back. She was just too damn beautiful.
Pack of Lies Page 14