Page 7 of When We Are Old

I smiled at the thought of our conversation a few minutes earlier. The conversation where we’d finally, after eighteen years, admitted our feelings.

He cracked open an eye. “What stalking do I need to know about?”

I snorted a laugh, but it turned to a squeal as he grabbed me and managed to push me off balance onto the small mattress. “All the stalking, everywhere.”

His lips grazed hot up my throat. “I feel violated.”

“And that’s not even acknowledging my porno dreams.”

He ducked his head back up. “Porno dreams?”

“All of them. Every night of the week. You and me, naked and—”

I sighed as his lips caught mine, our teeth chinking as the delicate kisses from the door delved into something soul lighting.

He pulled at my jumper. Cool fingers slipped underneath and brushed at my skin. “God, you feel so good.”

I arched my back pushing myself into his hardness. “More.”

His fingers skimmed up, running underneath my bra. A fractured thought that I had my crap M&S plain white set on filtered into my consciousness, but I swiftly pushed it back away. His thumb brushed my nipple and I made a noise I’d never created before.

Chuckling, he lowered his head, lifting up my jumper as his hot mouth brushed delicate kisses along the same path his hands took. I shivered as he pushed up my bra to release a nipple, capturing it in his mouth.

A knock landed against the door. “Tea trolley.”

“No thank you,” Matthew mumbled, his mouth drawing in the hardened bud, then swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh. I thrashed against the mattress, not sure if I wanted him to stop or carry on.

Carry on, definitely.

“Last chance 'til Crewe,” the voice called again.

“No thanks,” I gasped as Matthew pushed his hands down to the edge of my jeans, levering his fingertips under the waistband, his smile against my lips slow and devilish.

I turned my face for the door, expecting the tea lady to come barging in, but when the rattle of the trolley picked up and moved on, I sighed long and low.

I wiggled free of my jeans as soon as he’d undone the buttons and then sat up and pulled my jumper over my head. I needed his skin against mine like I needed air between kisses.

Down to my underwear, he pushed me back with one big hand splaying against my stomach.

“It feels naughty doing this on a train.” My words lilted with a sharp edge.

“I should have done this the other night.” His expression clouded, lips straightening into a line I didn’t want to see right now.

I tried to pull him down to me, but he kept just out of the reach of my fingertips. “Why didn’t you?”

His face shadowed. “Because you were talking and in the moment that seemed just as important.”

His answer made my insides warm caramel. The fact that he got me on such a fundamental level after years of not seeing me, made me know deep in my heart that what we had was beyond exception.

Matthew and Ronnie. Two halves of the same being.

“Please don’t ever let me stop talking. I like it now I’ve started, but I know it won’t always be easy.”

He eased back, leaving me exposed. My skin puckered in the cool air. “Do you want to talk now?” A flicker crossed his face.

“Are you crazy? Talk to me in five minutes.”

“Five? Better make it ten.” His lips curved. “Maybe fifteen, but honestly, I think you’ve broken me. I feel like a teenager about to blow his load at every opportunity.”