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They left the gallery, her body still humming from the orgasm he’d given her. It had been a long time since she’d felt excited like this, as though the world had suddenly grown brighter around her, objects sharper, colours more vibrant.
Art’s arm hooked around her shoulders, pulling her in against his big body. She felt stupidly happy—teenage girl with her first crush happy—and even the normal guilt that surrounded her couldn’t dampen its edges, though it tried. The moment she thought of back home, the guilt attempted to push its way in, but now this little bubble Art had created around her held back the emotion. She found herself grinning at complete strangers as she passed them by, no longer caring about the looks she was getting by being on Art’s arm.
“You know,” he said, “one thing about living in London is that you never come to any of the tourist areas. It’s kinda cool coming into central London for once to show you around.”
She nudged him with her shoulder. “I’m not a tourist either anymore, remember? I live here, too.”
“How’s that work, with visas and stuff?”
“My dad was English, so I get to stay as long as I like.”
He grinned at her. “So I won’t have to worry about you running back to the States any time soon then?”
“Nope, I’m here to stay.”
At least, she thought she was. Truthfully, Tess didn’t have anywhere else to go. She couldn’t go back home, she knew that much. She was banking on this huge, faceless city to save her. She hoped Art was asking because he didn’t want to see her go, rather than that he was fishing to see if he might get the building back to himself sometime soon.
They were in Trafalgar Square. Multitudes of pigeons swarmed the paving. Two huge fountains, ordained with mermaids, dolphins and tritons, were positioned either side of the towering monument of Nelson’s Column. People milled around everywhere, taking photographs with the spurting fountains behind them, or throwing crumbs of their sandwiches to the pigeons. Between the tourists marched suited men and women—city workers who were just trying to get where they needed to be.
“How about there?” Art asked, gesturing to a bar with outside seating.
She grinned. It would be nice to sit and watch her new city go by. “Perfect.”
They chose a table, and Art vanished inside to grab them a couple of beers. She didn’t miss the way plenty of women’s eyes followed him as he weaved his way between the tables, but he didn’t seem to notice any of them, or if he did, he didn’t show it, and she was thankful for that.
He returned with their drinks, condensation dribbling down the sides of the bottles. He’d brought them both a couple of glasses as well, but he took a swig from the neck of the bottle, and she did the same. This was the new Tess. The carefree, easy going Tess, who drank beer straight from the bottle with sexy tattooed men. She thought she could get to like this version of herself.
Art reached over the table, and took her hand, his fingers entwining with hers. “So what was your real reason for coming over here, Tess? You didn’t really tell me the last time I asked. I can’t help but think there’s more to it than just wanting a change.”
She sought for the right words. She didn’t want to lie to him, but couldn’t tell him the whole truth. Not yet, anyway. “I wanted to see the country my father came from. Get back to my roots.”
“What about your friends back home? Don’t you miss them?”
She nodded. “Sure.” She motioned to the cell phone, which she’d placed onto the table in front of her. “But we still call and text. It’s not as though the world is so big anymore. You look at London and just see home. You don’t see how beautiful and exciting it seems to someone from small town America. It was always on my bucket list to visit, and then this place just landed in my lap, so I thought why the hell not.”
He was looking at her in amusement. “Your bucket list? What else is on your bucket list?”
“Umm,” she pressed her lips together as she thought. There were plenty of things she wanted to do in her lifetime. She counted them off on her fingers as she mentioned each one. “Swimming with dolphins, visiting the pyramids, oh, seeing the aurora borealis, and maybe paying a call on Santa at the same time.”
He laughed. “You know Santa isn’t real, don’t you.”
She smacked his hand. “Don’t say things like that. Of course he’s real.” She thought again, and had to suppress her smile. “Oh, and getting a tattoo.”
His eyebrows lifted. “So I was right. You don’t have any tattoos.”
“Nope, not one.”
“Flawless skin.”
She bit her lower lip, and glanced away. “What about you?” she asked, turning the topic around. “What’s on your bucket list?”
“I don’t have one.”
“What? Everyone has a bucket list!”
“Nope. Not me.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “I guess I just want to live in the moment. I want to be happy with what I have now instead of looking forward to the next thing all the time.” He lifted a hand. “Don’t get me wrong, all those things you described sound amazing, and of course I’d do them, too, if the opportunity came up. I just don’t want to spend my life looking forward to doing things, and not appreciating them when they happen.”
Tess nodded, understanding what he meant. She took another long drink from her beer.
“So you’re happy with what you have?” she asked him. “The business and everything?”
He nodded, but she didn’t miss the way his gaze slipped from hers. “Sure. I’m doing what I dreamed of. How could I ask for anything more.”
Art sounded confident in what he was saying, but there was something about the way he said it that made her think there was something more. She wasn’t about to start prying, however.
They finished their drinks. The alcohol fortified her, giving her courage she didn’t usually possess.
“You’re going to think this is really lame,” she blurted, “but can we get a photo by the fountains. My friends would absolutely die to see it.”
He grinned. “Yeah, sure.”
Joining the rest of the tourists, they sat on the edge of the fountain, the water directly behind them. People had thrown coins of multiple currencies into the bottom, perhaps hoping a wish or two would come true. She held her cell phone out on selfie-mode, trying to get both their faces and the beautiful fountain behind them in the picture. She was struggling to get both them and the scenery in, however.
“Squeeze in a little,” she told Art. He did as she instructed, but she still couldn’t fit everything in. She wanted her friends back home to see where she was. “Lean back a bit more.”
Art leaned back a little too far, and she felt him tip as he lost his balance. His arms pin-wheeled, and she turned and reached out to grab him, using the hand not holding the phone.
She snagged the front of his t-shirt just as he toppled back. The bulk of him was too much for her to hold, but she kept hold of the front of his shirt. It wasn’t enough. The shirt gave way, the front tearing in her hands while the rest of Art’s big body fell backward into the water with a splash.
Tess held the piece of torn t-shirt in her hand, and then clamped the hand to her mouth to try to hold back her laughter. Art emerged from the fountain, water dripping down his body. His torn shirt flapped open from top to bottom, exposing the squared blocks of his abs and the muscles of his chest. Twin glints of light came from each nipple, and her laughter faded as she realized both nipples were pierced. Whenever they’d had sex, they’d always managed to stay mostly clothed, so she had never seen his bare chest before.
Art was half naked and dripping wet in the middle of Trafalgar Square. Everyone was looking, and she imagined husbands would be clamping their hands over their wife’s eyes, and mothers would be hiding the faces of small children. Art looked like sex personified, with his tattoos, and piercings, the remainder of his shirt dripping wet, and almost see through as it clung to the muscles of his arms and back.
His eyebrows lifted as he set his sights on Tess. “You think that’s funny, huh?” Water dripped off his dark hair, running down his face, clinging to his eyelashes. There was teasing behind his tone, and she clamped her mouth shut, trying to hold back the grin threatening to break across her face.
“I think you’re looking a little hot yourself, Tess. Maybe you need cooling off, too?”
With every word, he took a step closer, his powerful thighs pushing through the water. He climbed out of the fountain and approached her, his arms outstretched. She let out a squeal, feeling like a kid again. She turned, only pretending to get away. She was more than happy to let Art catch her. His big arms wrapped around her waist from behind, his wet torso pressing into her back, dampening her shirt. He lifted her off her feet, and she screamed with laughter. She felt a momentary burst of panic, as he swung her around, back toward the fountain, ready to throw her in as well.
But a shout from nearby made Art pause. “What’s going on over here?”
The voice was authoritative, and they both turned in its direction to see two uniformed policemen watching them.
“People aren’t supposed to swim in the fountains,” the older of the policemen said, pointing to a sign attached to the wall.
“Sorry,” Art said. “We weren’t exactly swimming.”
“He fell,” she tried to explain. “We were trying to take a photo.”
The two policemen frowned between them, not looking impressed. They were probably bored with turfing half drunk tourists out of the fountain on a sunny day.
“Hmm that wasn’t how it looked to me.” The older officer’s frown deepened as he took in the sight of Art’s naked chest. “And you really should wear a shirt in public places.”
Tess held up the remainder of his shirt and waved it like a white flag. The officer gave a tusk of disapproval and rolled his eyes, before moving on to the next offender.
Art and Tess fell together laughing, half holding each other up as they ran away from the fountain and the cops who’d given them a warning. Hand in hand, they hurried through the busy London streets, Art’s half naked body getting more than enough attention. Tess had never been one to like people noticing her, but she couldn’t help the swell of pride that rose inside her that Art was the one holding her hand. She still didn’t understand why he’d chosen her to be with, when they were clearly so very different. But you’d have to be either stupid or blind to not notice that Art was both ridiculously hot, and half dressed, as they walked through the streets, back to where he’d left his bike.
“I guess we’re going to need to go back to your place.” She motioned at his bare chest.
He caught up her hand and pulled her in closer. Her palms met with the warm skin of his pectoral muscles and a thrill went through her. She tilted her face up to his and his lips found hers, so they stood kissing like a couple of teenagers in the street. Tess had never touched a man with pierced nipples before, and she ran her fingers down over them, her breath catching as she felt the hard pieces of metal embedded into the tight nubs of his nipples.
Holy shit, he was sexy. Heat pulsed between her thighs, and she pressed herself up closer, wanting him again. But they were out in the open, and she was sure they were already drawing disapproving glances from people walking by.
She broke the kiss, breathing hard, her cheeks flushed with heart. “Your place,” she gasped again.
But he shook his head. “No, we can’t.”
She frowned. “Why not? Don’t you want a change of clothes?”
“I’ve got a spare shirt back at the shop.”
“Oooh.. kay,” she said slowly, trying to piece together what was happening. Why wouldn’t he want to go back to his own apartment? She tried again. “But wouldn’t it be easier to go back to yours? I don’t even know where your place is.”
Art’s face hardened and he stepped back from her, putting space between them that she missed instantly. “I’ve got a real dickhead of a flatmate. He works shifts, and the slightest bit of noise makes him kick-off.”
“Seriously? It’s only about five. He won’t let you have a friend back?”
“I said no, didn’t I, Tess?” He snapped out the words, and she jerked back.
“That’s fine.” Something in her chest turned cold and solidified to ice. “I think I just want to go home anyway.”
The tension had returned between them, like a screen going down, dividing them.
What the hell had just happened?