ATasteofLondon

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Authors: Lucy Felthouse

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A Taste of London

Lucy Felthouse

 

Ryan Stonebridge and his friend Kristian Hurst are heading
off on the trip of a lifetime. They’re spending their gap year traveling the
world and expect lots of sun, sights and sex. The guys have a couple of days in
the English capital before catching the Eurostar to Paris. Unfortunately, a
family emergency means that Kristian has to head back home for a while, leaving
Ryan to continue the trip alone.

Luckily for Ryan, he’s an attractive guy and there is no
shortage of gorgeous women available to help take his mind off Kristian’s
family drama.

A Taste of London

Lucy Felthouse

 

Chapter One

 

“Come on, mate, let’s go and grab our travel passes from the
machine,” Ryan said, his familiarity with the locale apparent by the way he
marched along the train platform toward the heart of St. Pancras Station.

“What? Uh—okay.” Kristian rearranged his bag on his shoulder
and scurried to keep up with his friend.

Bypassing the huge line of impatient, muttering people
queuing for the manned booths, Ryan headed to one of the ticket machines. By
the time Kristian caught up, Ryan already had a travel pass in his hand.

“So, um, what do I need to buy then, mate? I’m not as
au
fait
with all this as you.”

“Been practicing your French for the trip, Kris?” Ryan
punched his friend playfully on the arm. “No worries. We’re only taking one
trip tonight so you just need a single to London Bridge on the Tube.”

“All right,” Kristian replied, carefully tapping the
relevant areas of the touchscreen, feeding his money into the machine and
triumphantly retrieving his ticket.

“Okay, I’m ready to go.”

“Come on, then.” Ryan hoisted his bag back onto his shoulder
and walked in the direction of the Underground, with Kristian close behind.

“Hey,” Kristian said, pointing as they passed a map of the
Underground, “don’t you need to check where we’re going?”

“Nope,” Ryan said, without breaking stride, “I know London
pretty well, plus I double-checked all this stuff when I organized this part of
the trip. What can I say? It’s the Boy Scout in me.”

“Cool. I guess it makes things easier when you’re not
checking a map every two minutes. So how long will it take us to get to London
Bridge station from here?”

They stepped onto the escalator. Rather than standing still
and letting the moving staircase do its thing, Ryan continued to walk, eager
now to get this leg of traveling over and done with so he could have some fun.
It had been a long day, or at least it felt like one. They’d actually only
traveled around one hundred and fifty miles from the outskirts of the Peak
District to the center of London, a couple of hours on the train, but it had
felt like longer. Perhaps because he’d been so eager to actually get to London
and start their adventure.

“Not long, mate. Probably about ten minutes. It’s a direct
journey and at this time of day it shouldn’t be too busy. We can dump our stuff
at the hostel, then have some drinks next door.”

“There’s a pub next door? No wonder I let you sort out this
trip. You’re a fucking genius.”

By now they’d reached the bottom of the escalator. Ryan
stepped off, then turned to face his friend. Tapping his head, he grinned and
said, “It’s not just a hat rack, mate.”

Kristian laughed. “You’re right there.” He paused. “It’s a
fucking chick magnet too.”

Ryan frowned, looking genuinely confused. “It is?” Then he
shook himself and smiled. “I wish someone had told me!”

“Are you kidding, mate? Everywhere we go, women are checking
you out.” Kristian grinned. “Why do you think I agreed to go traveling with
you? I’m hoping some of your apparent sex appeal will rub off on me and get me
some action!”

Ryan laughed, then started walking toward the southbound
platform for their connection to London Bridge. “So that’s your ulterior
motive, eh? Never mind being my best mate, or seeing the world, you just wanna
get laid?”

“Well, all of the above, naturally. But come on, tell me the
thought of getting a shag on this trip hasn’t entered your head? You’ve not
gone gay on me, have you?”

Ryan opened his mouth, but his answer was interrupted by the
arrival of their train. Once they were onboard, he looked around to make sure
no one was listening, then said, “No, I have not
gone gay
as you so
delicately put it. It’s just that I hadn’t put shagging at the top of my
priority list for this trip. I wanna see the world, you know? If I hook up with
a girl while we’re away, then that’s just a bonus.”

“Fair enough. You know, Ryan, I respect that. You’ve got
your head screwed on right. When else will we get chance—lottery win
excepted—to bugger off for a few months and do whatever we want and go wherever
we want?” His face took on a contemplative expression. “We should definitely be
making the most of it, shouldn’t we?”

Ryan raised his eyebrows at his friend. “There’s no need to
get all serious, buddy. We’re here to have fun, remember? See the world,
remember
?”

Kristian shook his head, as though ridding it of his
previous seriousness. “Right again. Plus we can screw girls at home, right?”

“Well apparently you can’t. Oh well, at least I won’t have
to share the bumper box of condoms I packed.”

“Fuck off, Ryan. Anyway, about the itinerary…”

They chatted about the go-to places on their list until they
arrived at their stop.

“Come on, Kris,” Ryan said. “This is our station. Got your
travel pass? You’ll need to put it into the barrier to get out of the station.”

“Oh right,” Kristian said, grabbing his bag and following
Ryan down onto the platform. “I think I put it in my…got it.” He pulled the
small piece of card from his pocket and they made their way up out of the
station and onto the street.

Once again, Ryan seemed to know exactly where he was going,
so within a few minutes they were checking in at the reception desk of the
hostel.

“Fucking hell,” Kristian said as they made their way to the
locker area to stash their bags, “how cheap?”

He glanced at the paperwork he’d been given. “What? There
are mixed dorms? All right.”

Kristian punched the air, causing Ryan to roll his eyes and
retort, “Keep it down, mate. That comment right there screamed desperation, not
to mention pervert. Carry on like that and even
I
can’t help you get
laid.”

Kristian made the motions of zipping his mouth shut and they
put their bags into the lockers they’d been allocated, then made their way into
the adjoining bar. Kristian quickly forgot to stay silent.

“This place is awesome, mate. The drinks are cheap and we’re
sleeping right next door. No stumbling home or taxis for us.”

“Or night buses,” Ryan said with a visible shudder. He
signaled the barman. “You don’t ever want to go on one of those if you can help
it. Especially not if you have any semblance of sobriety.”

Kristian laughed. “Oh yeah, I remember you telling me about
the time that girl threw up all over you. Yeah, we definitely don’t want any of
that, especially since our wardrobes are a little limited.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ryan replied. “I’ve crammed a
surprising amount of clothes into my bag and I’ll be buying more if we struggle
to get our stuff washed. But don’t worry, I know the word for launderette in
several languages. Anyway,” he continued, “enough of that practical talk.” He
took the beers he’d just ordered and paid for and slid one across the bar to
Kristian. “Here’s to our gap year!”

“Hurrah!” Kristian replied. “Here’s to months of sleeping in
rooms with total strangers. We’d better not get robbed.”

Swallowing a gulp of beer, Ryan reached out and landed a
sharp punch on his friend’s arm.

“Shut up, dickhead. I thought you were all right with the
hostel thing. You were excited about mixed dorms ten minutes ago, you contrary
fucker! Besides,” he continued, “my old man gave me a set amount to spend,
remember. If there’s an emergency, he’ll wire more cash, but other than that
I’m on a strict budget. If we’d gone for five-star hotels and first-class
travel, I think London would have been the furthest we’d have got. Possibly
Paris, but certainly nowhere else.”

“All right, all right,” Kristian retorted, holding his hands
up in mock surrender, “keep your hair on, mate. I’m not knocking the plan. I’d
much rather go to more places on our student budget than live like kings and
not leave the UK.”

They continued to chat about their travel plans, getting
steadily drunker as the evening went on. Many people came and went, but for the
most part the men weren’t disturbed. By the time they were ready to call it a
night, they’d chatted about everything from sport to politics and refined their
itinerary, which now included a trip to the nearby Borough Market in the morning.
Or possibly the afternoon, depending on when their hangovers decided to let
them get up.

They stumbled to bed, wobbly and bleary-eyed, hardly
noticing the other occupied beds in the room. Just before he slipped into
blissful unconsciousness, Ryan grinned to himself.

This trip is going to be awesome.

Chapter Two

 

The following morning, Ryan was woken by heavy rock music
coming from somewhere nearby. As he struggled awake, he could hear curses and
moans and “shut that fucking phone up” from the other occupants of their shared
dorm. When his brain finally started functioning, Ryan realized it was
Kristian’s phone ringing and somehow he was so deeply asleep that he hadn’t
heard it. It was probably the booze.

Rolling out of bed and shambling toward his friend’s, Ryan
resisted the temptation to punch him. It wasn’t Kristian’s fault his phone was
ringing, after all. Though the twat could have put it on silent before bed like
most normal people. Sniggering, Ryan realized Kristian had been too drunk to
fully undress, let alone operate his phone. He shook him awake while trying to
find the offending mobile in the tangle of Kristian’s sheets. He found it and
as soon as Kristian sat up he shoved it into his hand.

“Wh-who is it?” Kristian asked dopily, peering at the screen.

“I don’t know,” Ryan whispered, “just answer it and get
outside—the noise is disturbing everyone else.”

Clearly remembering where he was, Kristian looked around
worriedly. “S-sorry, everyone. I’m going.” He left the room to a few mumbles of
“just go, already” and “yeah, yeah”.

Ryan slumped back onto his bed and retrieved his own phone.
He looked at the time. Seven-thirty a.m. No fucking wonder he was still so
tired. Who the hell was ringing Kristian at this time of the morning?

Shrugging, he logged on to the free WiFi the hostel provided
and began checking his emails to pass the time until Kristian got back. Despite
the early hour and the pitifully few hours of sleep, he knew he wouldn’t be
able to get back to sleep now.

A little while later, Ryan heard the door open. Then,
“Ryan.”

Something in the tone of Kristian’s voice snapped Ryan to
attention. Frowning, he got up and walked out the door before shutting it
carefully behind him. His friend was as white as a sheet, except for the
redness around his eyes. Just as he was about to make a snarky comment about a
killer hangover, Kristian blurted out, “Mate, I’ve gotta go home. That was my
sister on the phone. Dad’s had a heart attack and been rushed to hospital.”

It didn’t happen often, but Ryan was speechless. Kristian’s
family was almost like his second family, and vice versa. He couldn’t believe
it. Then realizing that his friend needed his support, not self-pity, Ryan
pulled himself together.

“Okay, mate. Let’s go and grab our stuff and get out of
here. We’ll head back to St. Pancras and grab the first train back home. Which
hospital is he in?” He bit back asking if his dad was okay, mainly because he
knew it was a stupid question. Of course he wasn’t okay—the man had had a heart
attack, for God’s sake!

Kristian put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Mate, as much as
I appreciate it, there’s no reason for you to come with me. From what I gather,
they got him to hospital really quickly. Don’t they say that the sooner they’re
treated the better it is or something? Or the least damage…oh, you know what I
mean.”

“Mate, are you sure? I’ll happily go with you. We can start
our trip again in a few weeks when your dad is better. It’s not a problem,
honestly.”

“I have a better idea. You go on without me and I’ll come and
join you as soon as I can. I honestly think Dad’s going to be just fine, but I
can hardly disappear off on a world trip knowing he’s in hospital, can I? I’ll
go and see him and when I’m sure everything’s okay, I’ll head back. I might
even be back in time to get the Eurostar to Paris tomorrow.”

Knowing when he was defeated, Ryan headed back into the dorm
with Kristian and briefly explained to the other occupants what the problem
was, hoping they wouldn’t be quite so pissed off by the disturbance of their peace
if they knew the reason for it. He helped Kristian pack, then walked with him
to the front of the hostel, shook his hand and pointed him in the direction of
the Tube station, with instructions on how to get back to St. Pancras.

“Take care, mate, and give my love to everyone. Drop me a
text as soon as you’ve seen your dad so I know how he is, all right?”

“Will do.” Then, seemingly as an attempt to break the
serious atmosphere, he added, “And don’t shag all the birds while I’m gone.
Leave some for me, okay?”

The two laughed together, then Ryan waited at the door for a
few seconds as his friend walked back up the street, before heading inside.
Grabbing his wash bag and a change of clothes, he headed for the shower. He was
wide awake now and, if he cared to admit it to himself, worried about
Kristian’s dad. A distraction was in order.

Half an hour later, Ryan was showered, shaved and dressed in
clean clothes. He was ready to hit the outside world. Realizing it was Saturday
and that Borough Market would be open this morning, he decided there was no
reason to deviate from the original plan, except that he’d be exploring the
world-renowned market by himself. It didn’t matter. It was something to do to
try to take his mind off things. And besides, Kristian had said there was
nothing to worry about, so he might as well just occupy himself and hope that
he was back in time for their journey to Paris the following day.

Stowing most of his stuff back in his locker, Ryan made his
way out of the building and up the road toward the market. He passed The Globe
Inn, shaking his head as he watched a girl grinning inanely as she had her
photo taken outside the door to the flat upstairs. Bridget fucking Jones and
Mark fucking Darcy had a lot to answer for.

Continuing, he blinked as he emerged from the shade of the
bridge and back out into the bright light. Even at this time of the morning
there were still plenty of folks milling about in the sunshine—browsing,
tasting the produce and picking out what they wanted to buy. Although the most
he’d fork out for was perhaps a piece of fruit or something from that delicious
cake shop he’d discovered the last time he was here, Ryan still enjoyed the
market. He liked the atmosphere and the opportunity to people-watch. In fact,
people-watching was one of the main reasons he loved cities—there were just so
many of them to observe.

As those thoughts passed through his head, Ryan got the
strange feeling that
he
was being watched. Looking around, he briefly
caught the gaze of a woman before she turned away and moved into the growing
crowd. There was no one else taking any notice of him, so he figured it had
been her whom he’d sensed.

He went after her. He’d only caught a brief glimpse of the
woman, but she was hot, and as a result the perfect distraction from all the
shit with Kristian’s dad. In fact, if he’d known what was going on, Dave
himself would have been encouraging him with a wink and a “Go on, my son!”

Grinning at the mental picture, Ryan continued to wind his
way through the throng, hoping to catch sight of her again. As seconds passed,
then minutes, Ryan was convinced he’d lost her. He strained his neck over the
crowd, hoping to see a flash of dark hair or the green summer top she’d been
wearing. There was nothing. Just as he was about to give up and go and buy a
consolatory slice of cake, he spotted her again, over toward the cathedral. She
glanced over her shoulder and their gazes met again, for longer this time. The
look on her face led Ryan to believe that she’d wanted him to follow her. And
just in case any doubt had remained in his mind, she winked before walking
through the gate into the churchyard and following the path to the entrance.

Ducking through the gate, Ryan walked quickly past the
tourists and sun-worshippers and headed into the relative gloom of the
cathedral. He stood just inside the door for a few seconds, waiting for his
eyes to adjust to the lack of light. His gaze landed on the donation box.
Later. He’d donate later. First he had to find her.

He purposely didn’t make eye contact with the volunteer who
was standing nearby—the last thing he needed was to have a tour of the
cathedral foisted on him by an overenthusiastic member of staff. Beautiful as
the building was, he had more exciting things to be getting on with. He hoped.

That was if he ever found her. The cathedral was full of
alcoves and huge stone columns, plenty of places to hide. Though if his
suspicions were correct, that was precisely why she’d brought him in here.
Either that or he was experiencing some serious wishful thinking.

As he moved through the cathedral, wincing at the squeaking
sound his trainers made on the floor, he trained his gaze on every alcove,
every possible place she could be. He was more than halfway round when a spark
of frustration crackled through him. Where the fuck was she?

A couple more minutes’ fruitless search and Ryan began to
wonder if he’d read the entire situation wrong. Perhaps she was currently
seeking refuge from the strange guy who’d followed her through the market and
into the cathedral, and was on the verge of calling the police to report a
stalker.

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.

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