Illicit Affairs

by Dixon

  “I was going to tell you after dinner, bug.”

  “You cannot get rid of that department; Sam is in that department!” Ava scolded, her hands bundled into tight fists upon the table’s edge as her father stuttered and stumbled for words.

  “It’s smart business, Ava,” Nate cut in.

  “This was your doing, wasn’t it?” Ava angrily accused across the table towards her boss as her sisters sat back in their seats sending each other worried glances that Britain and America were about to start a world war.

  “Hey, I’m just doing my job”—Nate raised his palms defensively—“if you’ve got a conflict of interest in this matter, we can discuss it in the office on Monday.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now?!” Ava exploded at her new boss, the legs of her chair scraping loudly against the wooden floors as she suddenly stood with her fists banging down on the dinner table, rattling the china, and causing her family to jump whilst Nate remained as glacial as ever.

  “Ava, calm down!” Heather gasped.

  “No, I will not calm down!” Ava raged, turning her attention to her paling old man. “This is Samantha we’re talking about; she is like a daughter to you! She is not fucking expendable!” Her eyes snapped back onto Nate as he calmly got to his feet.

  “Ava, you should listen to your sister, this is not a conversation for the dinner—”

  “Oh, fuck off, you knob!” Ava barked, interrupting Nate as she tossed her napkin on the table and stormed out of the room before she had a chance to see the gobsmacked expression on her boss’s face.

  Eleven

  Never had Ava felt so utterly powerless.

  Her feet thudded against the loose stone chipping paving the way to their family’s stables. This was her happy place, the one place growing up that she would come to whenever her parents were having screaming matches and tossing expensive china at each other.

  It was a small shelter for their remaining two horses, a hut made from weathered oak planks with a sloping corrugated iron roof that made even the briefest of summer showers sound like a hail of bullets. Straw covered the floor, golden hues rivalling Ava’s hair as half-empty hay nets hung limply along the walls alongside buckets of water for the horses.

  Ava ran into the wooden hut, slamming the creaking door behind her, the rusted iron hook on the door clattering loudly against the hut and spooking the horses.

  “Shit,” Ava sighed, looking up at a large black horse that huffed disapprovingly down at her from behind his gate. “Sorry, old boy, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she soothed, running her palm down the silken snout of her father’s horse, smiling at the tickling of silver whiskers across his warm nose as she carefully pressed her forehead against his and closed her eyes.

  Just a few brief moments and already her heart rate was calming down, put at ease as the sun dipped across the hills and burnt-orange light crept between the slits of wood holding up the stables. However, all that burst from her as the black beauty huffed and pulled away from her as the stable’s doors were ripped open, the sunset flooding in and blinding her.

  “Suzy?” Ava asked with her hand shielding her eyes. It was always her youngest sibling who would find her here.

  “Guess again.”

  Ugh, not this wanker.

  “What the hell do you want, Nate?” Ava sneered as her boss entered the stables, the amber glow cutting around his powerful silhouette.

  Nate felt a shiver of pleasure run through his body as he heard his name against her scarlet lips. Of all the hues of autumn, her hair was the most divine as the sunset caught it and sent molten gold carelessly flowing down her shoulders. A golden goddess in her purest of forms.

  “Oh, we’re on a first-name basis now, are we?” He smirked, stepping towards her bratty demeanour as she crossed her arms and exaggerated her cleavage through the unbuttoned V-neck of her shirt.

  “Well, for starters, we’re not at work so I’ll address you however the hell I want, and besides that, you’re the one who started calling me Ava instead of ‘Ms. Archer’,” she mocked his American accent and quoted the title with her fingers, much to Nate’s amusement.

  “Are you always such a brat?” Nate laughed, a hearty sound that caught Ava off guard as she peered up at his handsome face and felt something defrost inside her—but then she remembered this was the arsehole who was laying off her best friend.

  “Are you always such an egotistical knob?” she fired back, taking an assertive step towards him but shrunk in his bold shadow as he challenged her by taking a step towards her also, the pair coming to a standoff in the middle of the stables.

  Nate steadily trained his gaze down on her, impressed by her backbone, if not amused at how adorable she was when she was feisty. Surely, she knew he could flip her tiny body on its ass with one lift of his finger? She likely did know that, which just made him admire her more.

  “You should really watch that mouth of yours, Ms. Archer.”

  “Oh, yeah?” she challenged with a defiant rise of her chin, meeting his death stare head-on.

  “Yes. It’ll get you in trouble one day,” Nate replied, taking a step towards her, and forcing her to take a half step back.

  “Well, it’s a good thing I like trouble then, isn’t it?” Ava sassed, dropping her arms by her sides and straightening her spine as she took a step forward, insisting that he take a step back, but he remained firm in place.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you have a serious attitude problem, Ava?” he ridiculed, growing tired of her smart mouth as he began pressing forward, making her retreat backwards despite her provoking expression.

  “Has anyone ever told you what they say about a woman with an attitude, Nate?” she challenged with a coy smile, taking small steps back as her boss closed in on her like a lion closing in on its prey, but she refused to back down, a lioness asserting its position in the pride.

  “Enlighten me,” Nate prompted, stopping when Ava’s back pressed up against a wooden support beam holding up the small hut. If she felt intimidated by his presence, she certainly did not show it.

  “A fierce man can handle a fierce woman. A fragile man will say she has an attitude,” Ava stated, her hands tucked behind her back casually as she leaned her head against the beam and stared up at Nate from beneath the canopy of her dark lashes.

  Nate watched her carefully, his eyebrows raised in surprise at her statement. This woman wasn’t like the rest, he could feel it in his bones as he stared down into her passionate eyes, the sun behind them both now setting on the horizon of her oceans.

  “Is that what you want, Ava?” he teased despite his serious expression as he pressed his knuckles to the wooden structure above her head, his arms outstretched above him. “A fierce man?”

  Ava’s heart began fluttering again just like it did that night in the office when he leant over her. She was starting to suspect that it was his proximity to her that had that type of effect on her cardiovascular system, that and his heady aroma that did a number on her hormones.

  “What I want…” she began, peeling her back away from the wooden beam and closing the distance between their bodies while Nate remained grounded in his position. Her eyes stayed focused on his whisky-coloured orbs, feeling the heat of his stare tingle down the back of her neck, her breath turning shallow as she edged forward until her thighs pressed against his. It was like her body was betraying her despite her mind being set. Yielding slightly, she took a step back before continuing, “Is for you to not lay off my best friend.”

  Nate was lost in her presence, the woman blonde from root to tip, born to bring more golden sunshine into this world, and it showed too, it showed in those soulful blue eyes as bright as any orchid, clear as any glacier yet so very warm too. Under the ambient lighting, her hair wasn’t so creamy up close as it was far away. It was streaked with warm tones of honey and butterscotch, the warmth complementing her pale skin rather than washing her out. Ava was the essence of summer, a rare beauty wi
th lips like the most exotic of roses.

  “Consider it done,” Nate settled affirmatively, causing Ava to scrunch her nose up in confusion before he explained, “If I knew Ms. Eastley was your friend, I would have arranged another position for her sooner.”

  “Why didn’t you say that earlier?!” Ava gasped, humbled by Nate’s sudden generosity.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s a bit hard to get a word in edgeways with yourself.” He chuckled, a deep sound that reverberated in his chest, as his hand lowered from above her head and gently pinched at her chin, his thumb hovering over her lower lip. “The trouble this mouth stirs…”

  Ava felt her blood simmer in her veins from his touch, her tongue wanting nothing more than to taste the salt upon his fingertips. It was clear to her, in that moment, that lust was coiling around her bones, making her feel weak and melting her self-control down into a puddle of hormones.

  “You should do something about that then,” Ava breathed hotly, her lips moving and skimming past his pad, watching as Nate’s eyes flicked back up to meet her own and squinted at her in surprised contemplation.

  “Should I?” he asked in a low tone, asking more himself than Ava despite her nodding her head slowly and staring directly at his mouth. Flames licked up Nate’s thighs at her daring and provocative conduct, his heart driving the blood in his veins away from his brain and clouding his judgement in a haze of lust. He wanted her. Nate Brooks wanted her like nothing else in this world, his desire making him feel starved for connection.

  With his head in the gutter and his primal urges dominating his actions, his delicate grip on her chin lowered, fingertips brushing down the side of her sweet-scented neck, his thumb gliding down her throat before squeezing just enough to register her excitement from the pulse kicking against his palm.

  “Yes…” Her answer was delayed, her brain feeling starved as the blood swirled below her naval and made her ache, that steady pulse growing stronger and stronger. She had never felt such desire until feeling his grip on her throat, but she wasn’t rolling over like a submissive kitty for him. Her hands slowly found their way to Nate’s hips, her fingertips feeling along the rim of his belt before climbing up the buttons on his shirt with shallow humid breaths filling the small space between their bodies.

  The pair came to an impasse as Ava’s hand wrapped around Nate’s thick neck, showing she wasn’t a kitten to be played with as she pushed against his hand and purred close to his mouth, “…sir.”

  Nate’s hand fisted tightly against the wooden strut above Ava’s head as she tested his dominance and control. He’d fuck her in this hut right here, right now, just to make a point. He didn’t give a shit if someone walked in. He couldn’t care less about the repercussions of his immoral impulses.

  “Say that again,” Nate dared, the bump in his throat feeling crushed against Ava’s hand as he pushed forward, his head tilting as he dipped down to her eye level.

  “Make me, sir.”

  Fuck, Nate thought as his hips twitched like a car riding its clutch. Her voice was so low it practically snarled at him, making his nails bite into the heel of his palm.

  She was a firecracker and he just lit her damn fuse.

  Their lips were practically on each other’s, exchanging sultry breath, and yet neither made the first move, in a deadlock for power as they stared into each other’s bruised and battered souls.

  “Hello…?” Suzy’s voice suddenly came from outside the stables making the pair of them jolt away from each other. Ava’s petite sister walked into the stables, too naive to sense the electrically charged atmosphere as she beamed, saying, “Oh, good I found you! Mr. Brooks, your driver is here.”

  “Thank you,” Nate said in a composed manner to Little Archer, despite his body pulsing as though he were running a marathon. “And please, call me Nate.” His eyes slid down to Ava at his side. “I’ll see you on Monday, Ava.” He didn’t give Ava a chance to respond as he nodded at Suzy and walked out of the stables, eager to leave before his prominent arousal was spotted bulging through his tight denims.

  The sexiest thing a woman could do to a man was crawl, and here was Ava Archer who had now crawled inside his imagination and made it run wild.

  Twelve

  The rest of the weekend was one big messy blur for Ava. She kept replaying what happened in the stables until the memory was forever burned into her mind. The taste of Nate’s breath was still on her lips, the feeling of his soft grip on her throat, the way his hazel forests gazed down at her, spreading heat throughout her body like wildfire—he haunted her.

  Ava had been over it a million times in her head and every time she concluded that it was highly inappropriate to have those types of relations with her boss. Peter Taylor was different; he was just a lawyer like the rest of the white collars filling the department. He was expendable. Nathaniel Brooks was her father’s business partner, and for some reason, it felt like she was betraying her old man by having these illicit thoughts. However, she couldn’t shake the itch that was Mr. Brooks; the way he stood above her and didn’t silence her demons, choosing instead to play with them—was that what she wanted? Was that what she needed?

  Monday was on her doorstep before she had time to think of an appropriate way to approach her boss and explain to him that whatever nearly happened in the stables would never happen. It was a near moment that could be devastating to both of their careers. However, it was coming up midmorning and Ava hadn’t seen Nate all day despite him appearing online. He even stood her up when he was meant to be briefing her on the Forbes case. His evasiveness put her on edge, especially when his calendar was free, and being his assistant, she had no idea where he was. It didn’t help matters that the initial Forbes negotiation was today—the first time Ava would have sat in one—and she had utterly no idea what the finer details of this case were. She felt completely unprepared.

  Brushing down her white blouse, she tucked her shirt into her tailored grey work slacks and perfected her high ponytail, letting the waves fall to the middle of her back. She knew Mr. Brooks would have to be at the Forbes negotiation so she decided to go early to the boardroom and hopefully catch him before the meeting.

  Ava’s heels echoed down the long hallway, her laptop in her arms as she swung around a corner and stopped dead, her jaw dropping at the scene unfolding in the boardroom. There inside, stood Nate with his back to her, dressed in his usual sharp work attire as he leaned his hips against the back of a chair, his knuckles white from how tight he gripped on to the table behind him. But it wasn’t seeing him stood there that made Ava feel like her stomach was about to fall out of her arse. It was the brunette woman in front of Nate, on her knees and gripping his thighs.

  Nate had taken far too many cold showers that weekend. That vexing little blonde was all he could think about, his body in a constant state of ache and yearning that he alone could not relieve—no matter how many times he tried.

  By the time Monday came around, he was glad that his morning was jam-packed, giving him some respite from his newfound and lethal obsession. First things first, the promotion of Ms. Samantha Eastley. With Mr. Archer’s permission, Nate opened up a brand-new position for the young woman, appointing her as data analyst and systems manager for their sector, and giving her a handsome bump in pay too.

  “You’re bloody kidding me right now?!” Sam trilled in her thick Celtic accent, squealing the meeting room down and practically bouncing in her seat like an excited toddler over the incredible news. “Eh, aye! I absolutely accept!” She beamed, tucking the ombre caramel waves of her shoulder-length bob behind her ears.

  Nate could see why this woman was best friends with Ms. Archer; they both shared that vibrant zest for life and were both hyperactive in their own ways.

  “Good, then your new position will commence in three months’ time, but I would ask for your utmost discretion on this matter, Ms. Eastley.” Nate spoke professionally even though he was breaking every HR rule in the book ri
ght now.

  “Abso-fucking-lutely, mouth shut, got it,” Sam promised, nodding her head as she zipped her lips and tossed away the key.

  Nate was struggling to hide his amusement as he escorted her out of the meeting room but called after her, “Oh, and Ms. Eastley?” He waited until Sam turned around to face him. “That discretion does not extend to Ms. Archer.” He winked, a small smile slipping across his lips as Sam beamed him a cheery grin and all but danced her way up the hallways. Chuckling to himself, Nate began making his way back towards his department when the elevator doors pinged open and a flash of emerald green caught his eye.

  “Nathaniel!”

  Nate halted and turned to see the eccentric and widowed Charlotte Forbes approaching him. Charlotte was the definition of wealth, practically dipped in gold from her late husband’s pockets. The young woman was dressed in a designer green jumpsuit that showed off the body that her personal trainer likely handcrafted for her. She reminded Nate of a viper, a very lethal viper. “I’m glad to have caught you,” she cooed in prim and proper British that was pretentious as it was tasteless. “Can we discuss somewhere private prior to the negotiation, darling?” Charlotte asked, removing her unnecessarily large sunglasses and sitting them atop her sleek brunette hair that was so flawlessly long and straight, Nate doubted it was her own.

  “Certainly, Mrs. Forbes,” Nate answered and respectfully ushered her into the meeting room he had just vacated.

  “Honestly, Nate, for the umpteenth time, please just call me Charlotte.” She laughed, her hand resting on his elbow and making him feel as uneasy as a jaguar entering an anaconda’s territory.

  Nate had dealt with these types of clients before, women who desired nothing more than money, a succubus that would corrupt any man to get what they wanted.

  “What would you like to discuss, Mrs. Forbes?” Nate asked, standing at the top of the long conference table and watching as Charlotte made her way to the refreshment table and poured herself a glass of water. A woman of her stature had a way of acting like she was at home anywhere she went.