Sage reached up and touched the pair of Kirk’s Folly witches’ shoes that hung from her ears. “It’s the earrings, right? That’s how you knew I was from the States.”
The barkeep laughed. “Yes, ma’am, that was it… nothing to do with the accent. As for what’s good, we have a great light micro-brew exclusive to us, and our mac ‘n cheese is the best in all of London. It comes with smashed mint peas and bread we make here in the pub.”
“Sold! It sounds delicious.” The man she assumed was the proprietor drew her draft. “Is there a place at the bar?”
“Might be down at the end…”
“Hey! Yank! We have room at our table for a pretty girl like you!” called a man from a large round table filled with a number of men and women that looked to be about her age.
She looked at the bartender.
“They’re regulars. You’ll be safe with them as long as you don’t mind a thousand and one questions about America,” he said in answer to her unasked question.
“Sounds good. Do I come back for my food?”
“No, we’ll bring it out to you.”
“Thanks,” Sage said over her shoulder as she went to join the raucous table. “Thanks for inviting me,” she said, grabbing a seat. “I hate to eat alone.”
“What brings you out on All Hallows Eve?” asked the man who had invited her to join them.
“I was at a good stopping place in my work, so I decided to go for a walk and find a place to eat.”
“You’re from America? I’m Henry, and this is my girl, Darcy.”
“I am, indeed,” Sage said with a smile. “I’m Sage.”
“That’s an unusual name,” Darcy said. “My favorite author’s name is Sage.”
“Mine, too,” Henry teased. “I always know I’m in for a great weekend when one of Sage Matthews’ novels comes out. Darcy thinks I was the model for Roark,” he said, striking a pose and making everyone laugh.
“Nope, you’re blond, and Roark has dark hair,” Sage teased.
“You read Sage Matthews’ books? The girls here at the table have a book club and meet once a month.”
“Really? That’s great. Maybe…”
“Oh my God, Sage? You’re Sage Matthews, aren’t you?” Darcy asked.
“Guilty as charged,” Sage replied with an enormous smile as her food was put in front of her.
Sage spent the evening sharing food and ale and playing darts. At first, there had been a lot of questions about the books, how she got started and the like, but once the novelty wore off, she just became one of the crowd. When a man who also appeared to be on his own entered the now rowdy pub, he was invited to join them and took up a seat next to Sage.
“William Shackelford,” he said to the table, shaking Sage’s hand. “I’m with the British Foreign and Commonwealth Office.”
“Sage Matthews, erotic romance writer.”
“Really? That sounds ever so much more fun and exciting than my job.”
Sage couldn’t remember when she’d had a better time or the last time she’d had so much fun. A large part of her enjoyment came from the attention she received from William. They seemed to share the same sense of humor. He was sexy and solicitous in the way only a well-raised English gentleman could be. As the evening went on, he found ways to subtly touch her. When she didn’t dissuade him, the touches got bolder—a glancing touch along her breast, a caressing hand on her backside. Gradually, his gentle fondling ignited the spark of her arousal into a flame that grew brighter with each passing hour. While she had enjoyed pleasuring herself and the often-sensual dreams she experienced at night, it had been a while since Derek’s departure from her life.
William drew her hand beneath the table and placed it on his thigh, allowing her to decide for herself whether to leave it there or move it to feel his thick, hard cock. Sage leaned into his body, and William wrapped his arm around her as she slid her hand down, covering his cock and giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Mmm… that’s nice, love,” he whispered in her ear.
She grinned and nuzzled him. “Yes, it is.”
They continued to play darts with their newfound friends. The only difference was as the evening wore on, William pulled an unprotesting Sage into his lap between turns at the throw line. She found herself relaxing back into his body, his arm curling around her waist, and his hand resting lightly between her legs. She could feel his cock throbbing beneath her, promising all kinds of pleasure to be had.
More than a little tipsy, those at the table called the evening to a close. Sage left the pub with William and offered no resistance, or even protest, when he pulled her into an alleyway, pressing her against the brick wall and kissing her. William took the lead, his mouth covering hers, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of her lips as his hands moved from her shoulders down her back to cup her buttocks and bring her closer. Sage’s lips opened and his tongue surged into her mouth—tasting, exploring, devouring.
When he suggested a walk, Sage’s only protest was leaving the shelter of the alley and William’s arms. William drew her hand through the crook in his arm, and they walked several blocks along the Thames. Although it was late fall, the weather was mild, and she was enjoying the night and the company more than she had anything in a very long time.
Earlier in the week, she had feared her trip to London was turning into a fiasco, but little by little, she seemed to be finding her way and making it a triumph. Everything about the city seemed to have a positive impact on her life. She and William walked hand-in-hand in companionable silence as Sage mused, as an author, that she was in a position to pursue her career anywhere in the world… including London, perhaps even with William.
Chapter 6
Most of the
