by Dixon
“I don’t care,” she snarled like a feral kitten against his lips, her hand finding and wrapping around the base of his arousal. “For the next ten minutes, you are mine.”
“Sh-shit…” he hissed, groaning with her tongue dominating his mouth and her hand working him towards a mess that now coated the curve between her thumb and index. How could a woman be so soft and feminine but so powerful and dominant? It was a complete mindfuck—the good kind.
With flushed cheeks, he hitched his hands up her short little skirt, that fucking skirt that had driven him to insanity these past few days. His fingers grazed her bare hip bone searching higher until the reality crashed into his loins hard. “Christ, you’re not wearing any underwear…”
“Guilty as charged,” Ava purred against her assault of kisses on his neck. “I know what I want.” She pulled back, grinning devilishly before using his own words against him. “You.”
That was the last straw for Nate, primal growls vibrating in his chest as he threw every last piece of caution to the wind and possessively gripped handfuls of her perfect ass, his nails biting into her flesh before he released and then abruptly brought his hands down, a sharp snap of skin on skin breaking through her moans. He grinned at the yelp she made for him, yanking her closer onto his lap until they crossed a wet line as he felt her beautiful slick centre kiss his shaft. However, as they both gasped, it wasn’t from the intense pleasure they felt when reconnecting, but from the interrupting knock at the door.
“Hello? Is this room in use?”
“Get down!” Nate hissed at Ava’s alarmed expression as he pushed her under the table in front of them.
Despite the panic rushing through her body along with the adrenaline, Ava couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped her lips as she quietly clambered under the table and knelt between Nate’s knees. She abruptly snapped her mouth shut as she looked behind her upon hearing the meeting room door creak open and saw the two sets of legs from beneath the table.
“Mr. Brooks, apologies, we didn’t realise this meeting room was booked.”
“Yes, I require this room for the rest of the morning,” Nate answered casually, but Ava knew him well enough to hear the amount of restraint he was mustering.
He clenched the table with one hand, the other pointing a warning finger at the dirty little secret beneath it. Given Ava’s immodest state, it wouldn’t take a genius to come to the conclusion that he was fucking his assistant and if that got out all hell would break loose.
Nate was unlocking new sides of Ava, showing her that the danger of being caught thrilled her and brought on that fire low in her belly. As she sat there between his knees and stared at his twitching arousal peeking through his work slacks, an idea sprung to her mind…and a very wicked one at that.
“No worries, we’ll try the room down the hall,” the suited gent at the door said as he turned to leave but then stopped and added, “Oh! I almost forgot, how is the Nolan case going?”
“Yeah, it’s coming along,” Nate answered with his jaw clenched in frustration but then suddenly shot upright when he felt the softest, warmest, and most succulent of lips wrap around the head of his member. Intense pleasure rippled down his length and burst in his balls making him suck in a breath.
Is she fucking kidding me right now?!
The lawyer stood at the door was luckily none the wiser as he glanced at his watch giving Nate enough time to swat his hand at Ava. However, this goddamn woman just sucked him harder and made every muscle in his body tighten to breaking point.
“Ah, good to hear! Hopefully another easy case to close off, right?”
“Right.” Nate strained, the muscles cording tightly in his neck as he clenched his hand on the table, his hand running into Ava’s hair and fisting it tightly. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I am in the middle of something here.” The middle of something being her mouth as her expert tongue flicked against his tip.
After a few seconds that felt like a year in hell, the door finally clicked shut and Nate glared down at his lap, ready to roar hellfire at the idiotic woman who nearly cost him everything but then he saw her eyes. It felt like his birthday as two perfect bluebells peered up at him, her eyes like presents with long black velvet ribbons framing them. Then there were her lips, glistening with a silvery sheen as they locked around his manhood and reduced this man into nothing more than a boy—he was a goner.
“That feel good, boss?”
“You’re unbelievable,” he said with a deep groan at that filthy mouth, fisting the silk at her crown, a smirk climbing up his cheek as he watched her nod her head innocently. She was utterly perfect, everything about her from that fiery attitude problem to the way she expertly ground her tongue against the sensitive band of flesh running down the tip of his sex. “Fuck…your mouth… it’s—” he groaned out, caught between the need to close his eyes and keep them on the two blue moons looking up at him.
“That’s the idea, Brooks,” she interrupted and guided his spare hand into her hair. “Fuck my mouth.”
Nate responded, all but drooling for this woman, his hands bunching her hair at either side of her head, pulling her mouth down further while he thrust up into her. She obliged eagerly, the moans she made vibrating down deep into his balls and shooting up into his lower stomach. He had never met such a tenacious woman, yielding to her as his head fell back and his eyes rolling to see the stars at the back of his skull.
Ava was in her element, cutting this man down to size as her mouth stole his breath and claimed his soul. Her arms hooked under his thighs, hands grabbing his hips as she assertively tugged his ass off the seat, gripping him tight in her hold as she sucked him so hard that her cheeks hollowed.
Again, and again, she took her revenge, ensuring he’d never ignore her once more, bringing him to the edge of climax before dangling it just of reach. She watched him in awe, his face a kaleidoscope of pleasure, keeping up her torture until his thighs trembled, his face a shade of rose as the veins across his body bulged out in desperation.
“Av…Ava…fuuuck!” he ground out through shallow breaths, ecstasy filling his veins as his body finally lost control, falling silent as the pleasure climbed and climbed until bursting apart, his salt filling her mouth and throat while his teeth clamped down on his fist to stop him from screaming her name. Nate’s hips bucked like a caged bull, his nostrils flaring angrily as his free hand held her head down to stave off the explosion of fireworks in his loins until it eventually simmered down to sparklers.
Nate eventually gazed down at her oceans again, her smile the lighthouse guiding him back to safe land. He cupped her cheek as his thumb smeared away a single tear rolling down the blush of her cheek, her lipstick smudged from the aggressive treat she had given him.
It was in that moment that he felt something ache and stretch inside his chest as though his soul was trying to reach out for her but couldn’t for being a prisoner of his own fate. That was the thing about destiny; it didn’t give a crap about your plans. Nate had finally found the key to his happiness, but the real kicker was that fate decided to change the fucking locks.
Ava stood, buttoning her blouse while Nate opened windows inside the meeting room and made her chuckle to herself.
“Well, I certainly have never done that before,” she quipped, wiggling her eyebrows at him as he shot her an unamused look over his shoulder.
“Well, I should certainly hope not.” His eyes glowered possessively at her but there was a tease to his tone that only added to the good mood she was in.
Brushing down the creases in her skirt, they were both interrupted by the buzzing of Nate’s phone sliding across the meeting table. Ava peered over and saw the caller ID and instantly frowned. A beautiful woman, with flawless olive skin and the type of chestnut hair that you could not buy out of a bottle, beamed Ava a cheery grin. However, the picture wasn’t as alarming as the name across the screen.
“Natalia is calling you?” Ava squinted at the phone
that Nate was now swiping off the table, silencing the device and placing it into his pocket. She brushed off his reaction, but something was nagging Ava…that name felt so familiar. It wasn’t until Nate shut his laptop that it sprung to her mind. “Natalia, that’s the name of your yacht, right?”
“Right,” Nate confirmed, his shortness with her causing her brows to crease further. “We should head back now,” he said, clearing his throat.
“Is she family…?”
“No,” Nate said through a clenched jaw.
“Friend?” she pressed, growing more suspicious.
“We need to get back now, Ava.”
“I mean she’s gotta’ be pretty special considering you named a boat after her… My father told me you only name your boat after your daughter or your w—” She stopped short, staring at Nate. The frozen expression on his paling face was like that of a client put on trial, that moment when they knew they’d been caught. It was in that moment that Ava’s brain, fuelled with women’s intuition, put the pieces together with detective speed and her eyes fell upon his left hand. Ringless. She didn’t want to ask it but forced the words out through the lump in her throat. “Nate…are you married?”
Her eyes bored into him and watched his mouth fall open, his silence speaking louder than words.
Twenty-Four
“Oh, my fucking God!” Ava squawked, recoiling back from him as her mind spun at a million miles per hour. It was in this moment of chaos that her mind was able to rationalise every detail of the last few weeks. “Dinner! You and my father were talking about her at dinner! I thought you both were talking about your boat sailing the Italian coast, not your bloody wife!” Bile was rising in her throat as she gripped her hair, her chest heaving with shallow breaths as the illusion between them wilted like a dying rose.
“Ava, if you’d just let me explain it’s not as bad as—”
“Don’t you bloody dare tell me it’s not as bad as it seems!” she squealed, pointing a finger at him with a look that could kill.
“Will you keep your damn voice down!” Nate hissed, his hand grabbing hold of her elbow and yanking her away from the door. “Look, if you would just let me explain I—”
“Are you married, yes or no?” Ava cut to the chase, peeling his unworthy fingers off her elbow and socially distancing herself from the man she thought she knew.
“Yes, but it’s not a serious marriage.”
“So, you are legally separated then?”
“No…not exactly…” Nate hesitated, a deep frown setting into his forehead and creasing the bridge of his nose. His stomach sank and his guts twisted as he watched the betrayal steal the light from her eyes. He would give anything to ignite that fire again, so he stepped towards her but nearly felt his knees give way when she took a step away from him like his very presence repelled her.
“Do you fuck her?” Ava asked, her hands by her sides and balled into little fists. When Nate didn’t answer straight away, she had her answer and snarled angrily as she stormed towards him and shoved his chest. “You vile man!”
“It’s not like that! We haven’t fucked in months, maybe even years—I’ve lost count! Just hear me out, please!” he pleaded, reaching for her again, his hands cupping her upper arms, desperately trying to calm her down so she could just hear him out. He had to make this right.
“Get your hands off of me!” Ava bit back, slapping his hands away from her body. “You’ll never touch me again.”
“Ava…” Nate implored her; the corners of his honey eyes turned down as he all but whimpered for her to just listen, but he knew that was impossible. She wasn’t the type of woman to sit down and have a rational talk; she was chaos and fire suspended in flesh and bone. However, then she charged towards the door and yanked it open, instilling panic in him. “Where are you going?!”
“Home.”
“What? Ava, wait!” But it was a useless feat as she stormed up the hallway towards the busy department. He wanted to rush after her to fix this, but he couldn’t risk making any more of a scene and inevitably had to let her go. “Fuck!”
Ava knew if she didn’t get out of this place right now, she was going to throw up. Her mind ached as she grabbed her things in a hurry and rushed towards the elevators. It was her dramatic exit that caught her best friend’s attention as a brown bob peeked up from the desk.
“Lass? Ye alright there?” Sam asked, her face a picture of concern.
“Yes, I’m fine, sorry you’ll have to excuse me.” Ava sniffled, stepping into the elevator, grateful that the doors pinged shut just as her best friend rose to her feet. She had had enough lies for one day and couldn’t stand lying to Sam’s face about the sin she had committed.
For Ava, the worst part about all of this wasn’t that she felt foolish for not seeing the warning signs, but that she had been lied to. If she had known he was married, she would never have had such sinful intentions, but the choice was never given to her. He left her in the dark and hid the truth away from the light.
Her mind was a foggy turbulent sea, conflicted over the feeling of loss, and yet how could she grieve for such a thing? This wasn’t the beginning of the end…there was never a beginning with Nate.
Ava did what any self-respecting woman would do in her situation—she turned to therapy.
The green bottle glugged as tasty burgundy licked up the sides of the large gin glass while she lowered into a squat to become eye level with her wine and get her money’s worth.
Her grey onesie hugged around her body, her work attire out of sight and out of mind, although, there was a moment where she was tempted to toss her work clothes onto an open fire and burn the evidence of her ever touching a married man.
Padding her way into the living room, she set the bottle of wine down onto the coffee table and took comfort from the soft piano music filling her spacious apartment. However, just as Ava sat down and placed the glass to her lips, ready to embrace the fruity aromas, the front door rattled against its hinges as though the hordes of hell were trying to invade.
“Oh, fuck me,” she groaned, setting the glass down next to the bottle and making her way to the front door. “I’m coming, for Christ’s sake!”
When she opened the door, she realised it wasn’t hell trying to invade, it was the Scottish.
“Can you not answer your bloody phone?!” Samantha shrieked in the hallway outside Ava’s apartment before storming inside. Ava rubbed at her tired eyes, closed the door behind her, and followed an angry lass into her living room. “I tried everyone, even Trinny and Sue—hell, I even rang the bloody hair salon! You had me wanting to call Scotland Yard and put out a missing person rep—” Sam stopped short with her coat hanging off of her arms as she saw the bottle of wine on the coffee table and looked back to Ava with a grave expression on her face. “Shit…what’s happened, hen?”
“Nothing,” Ava mumbled, her eyes bloodshot, but that was from the wine and definitely not the three hours she spent crying like a drunken and emotional fool…
“Aye, like hell it’s nothing!” Sam challenged, knowing her friend well enough that when she acted prim and proper with the “you’ll have to excuse me” chat that something was most definitely wrong. She sat down on the sofa and pointed up at Ava. “Your lips are stained and you’re drinking wine out of a gin glass from a bottle that is…” She picked up the bottle and gawked at the label. “Bloody Nora! It’s fifteen-and-a-half-percent strength! Who the hell died?!”
Despite Ava feeling numb from emotional exhaustion, she found herself chuffing at her friend’s outburst as she slumped down onto the sofa beside her and buried her face into Sam’s shoulder.
“No one died, only my tolerance for men,” Ava whined into the thick knitted jumper she had more or less face-planted.
“Is this about Peter?”
That wasn’t a name Ava had expected to hear, but as she looked up at Sam with glistening eyes, it wasn’t because her friend had almost hit the nail on the head, but becaus
e Ava wanted nothing more than to pour her heart out to her friend but couldn’t for her own shame and pride.
“Yeah…” Ava lied, hiding her face back into her friend’s side and taking comfort from the warm amber notes of her perfume. “You know, I tried so hard this week, reduced myself to nothing more than an attention-seeking whore and it all just came back to bite me on the arse, and now I feel…I feel…” She tried but couldn’t push the words past the bitter lump in her throat as her voice croaked. She felt degraded.
“Lovely, we don’t have to talk about it right now,” Sam soothed, her hand running down her friend’s hair as concern creased the space between her brows.
“Thank you, I just want to get drunk and forget about everything.”
“Aye-aye, captain! I have just what the doctor ordered.” Sam beamed, pushing Ava back slightly and smirking down at her with a mischievous wiggle of her brows. “We’re going out-out.”
“No.”
“Shut it, ya tit, we’re going out! It’s your birthday tomorrow”—Sam was interrupted with a whine that she ignored—“and in case you forgot, we still need to celebrate my promotion so we are getting dressed up tonight, no boys allowed, just dancing, cocktails, and bitching about menstruation!” she denounced but halted as she finally pulled out the object that had been prodding into her back for the past few minutes. From between the cushions of the sofa, she produced an empty bottle of red that made Ava give her a sheepish look. “And you call the Scottish a bunch ae alcoholics, ye wee fud!”
Twenty-Five
“I’m telling you! When he hits from the back and pulls out too quickly, it’s like a horse sneezing down there!” Sam blurted across the loud and bustling bar, her hands clapping together as she imitated a horse’s mouth that sounded like a balloon deflating.