Illicit Affairs

by Dixon

  Ava couldn’t breathe past the laughter, buckling over in her seat as tears lined her lashes. She had forgotten that only hours ago she was sat half-drunk on her couch with different types of tears in her eyes.

  “Stop!” Ava pleaded through her chortles as a couple of gents looked at the pair oddly but still, her friend continued blowing raspberries. “Samantha Eastley, I’m going to wet myself, will you bloody stop?!”

  “You know…that’s a real problem when you reach thirty! Here, did I ever tell you about the time I went to a trampoline fitness class?”

  “Bloody stop!” Ava howled as droplets of joy trickled down her cheeks, smearing her mascara under her eyes.

  The night transpired into more wild tales from Sam, more hilarity, and more drunken banter. It really was just what the doctor ordered as Ava’s mind was diverted away from the train wreck of her love life.

  It was fast approaching midnight by the time the pair, arm in arm, strolled down the deserted cobbled street towards Ava’s apartment. For claiming to have such a strong liver, her friend certainly couldn’t walk in a straight line, although, that could be because Sam was barefoot in the middle of a cold Autumn. She claimed that the Scottish were immune to the cold.

  “On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Loooomond!” Sam howled as she sang for the entirety of London to hear, swinging a wine bottle back and forth before swigging down the substance she definitely did not need more of. The hilarious part was that the one Scottish person in a one-mile radius of them had heard Sam and chimed in.

  “How they let you in past the borders, I will never know!” Ava laughed with a slight slur, shaking her head as she held her inebriated friend up. “You know, you really aren’t doing your lot any favours. You’re practically upholding the Scottish stereotype here!”

  “Ack…could be worse… Could be English!”

  “Oi!” Ava slapped at her friend’s arm as they both burst out into playful laughter. However, the giggling banter was cut short as they both approached the front of her apartment building, where she paused and blinked in confusion.

  Stood outside the redbrick building, with white windowpanes and doors, was a man who was leaning against the black metal railing holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

  “What are you doing here?” Ava asked with a deep frown cutting into her features.

  “To wish you a happy birthday and to apologise,” the auburn-headed gent replied.

  “So, I may have done a thing…” Sam cut in, explaining she had texted Peter, and Ava would not be surprised if her friend yelled in drunken caps lock at the poor man either. “I’ll be off then, tah-tah!”

  “Wait, what?” Ava blinked, snapping her eyes between Sam and Peter. “You can’t leave, and no chance am I letting you walk home in that state!” However, as though her drunken friend had coordinated it perfectly, a black-cab taxi rolled up outside her apartment and Sam beamed her a smug but cheeky grin as she randomly pulled out a pair of sunglasses that she got God only knows where and placed them onto her face despite it being dark outside.

  “I love you!” Sam gave her friend a sloppy kiss on the cheek and then retreated towards the taxi and all but falling into the back seat, but not before she yelled, “Oh, don’t forget to try out the horse sneeze method!”

  Ava placed the bouquet of white lilies, her favourite flower, into a white jug of water as Peter removed his jacket and hung it over the back of her kitchen chair.

  “So, I must apologise…” Peter began, leaning against the kitchen counter now as he rolled the sleeves up on his green jumper.

  “Apologise for what?” Ava quizzed with a scrunched nose as she poured herself a glass of water—she would need to be a lot more sober to get through this conversation.

  “Sam said that you felt I was ignoring you for the past couple of weeks, and I honestly hadn’t noticed… I’ve been so busy with Charlotte”—he cleared his throat awkwardly—“Mrs. Forbes that I really have been neglecting you, ol’ girl.”

  “Oh, no it’s fine, I’ve just been stressed I guess,” Ava brushed off the comment and jumped to sit up on her kitchen countertop, her legs dangling.

  “Stressed?”

  “Yes, just everything with my father and work being so busy…so many changes…” Ava sighed, her shoulders slumping as she rested her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands. “It’s been a hell of a month.”

  “Awh, my darling…” Peter’s voice was suddenly in front of her as his hands came down upon her shoulders. “You need to relax, alright?” At first, Ava flinched from his touch, but the more his thumbs pressed into her tired shoulders and relieved the tension, the more she felt herself giving in to a little bit of TLC. “That’s my girl, just close your eyes and relax,” he cooed, running his thumbs up and down the sides of her neck as his fingers pressed deep into the supporting columns at the top of her spine.

  A soft whine left Ava’s lips as she closed her eyes but then felt Peter’s touch on her inner thigh beneath her skirt, her blue orbs springing open. “What are you doing?”

  “Relaxing you…if you’ll let me?” He smirked such a dashingly handsome smile, his hands spreading her knees as his nails ran up and down the tops of her thighs and elicited goosebumps.

  “I don’t think that is a good idea. You should probably go…” Ava breathed a shaky breath, however, there was no commitment behind her words, a dark-rooted part of her craving intimacy.

  “Go where? Here?” he breathed against her lips, running his fingertip over the lace covering her scantily dressed sex and evoking a small moan from her lips.

  “Mmh, there,” she whimpered, nodding her head and chewing on her bottom lip as his thumb pressed into her sensitive bud and massaged circles around it.

  Peter began descending, his touch never once leaving where she needed it before his head disappeared beneath her red pleated midi skirt, his teeth nibbling up along her snowy thigh towards her sweet centre.

  Ava’s mind was a drunken mess, unable to think clearly from the pleasure his mouth brought as it latched over her heat and breathed fire down onto it. Her body shivered pleasantly, tingles of warmth oozing through her core as she gripped the counter and breathed heavy laboured breaths. His mouth had saturated her panties, his hands bunching her skirt up to her ample hips as she tipped her head back and closed her eyes.

  This felt fucked up to her, an odd sense of guilt cutting through her as she peered down to tell him to stop. However, as she did, it wasn’t Peter’s red hair waiting for her, it was Nate’s black locks. She gasped, blinking between the emerald and the hazel orbs coming in and out of focus.

  “Peter…you should…” she moaned, staring down at Nate’s sexy and dark smirk between her legs, his finger sliding into her underwear and hooking them to the side before his tongue laved a trail from her bridge to her clit. Her hands gripped dark tendrils, giving in to this illicit fantasy as she pulled his face down against her ache.

  Ava was certain she had lost her mind, that Nate had driven her to the brink of insanity and then shoved her over the edge, but she didn’t care. Whatever had snapped inside her head, whatever fucked-up delusion this was, she never wanted it to end as long as it was Nate who was corrupting her thoughts.

  Strong hands gripped her hips, tugging her ass off the counter until she was practically resting upon his mouth that was wrecking her into a sloppy and mewling mess. In one swift movement, Ava found herself wrapped around his waist and being carried, her mouth on his, tasting her sweet musk on his tongue as she clung close to her dark fantasy, scared to blink in case the illusion shattered.

  She was in too deep and needed just one more hit of her poison, even though she knew it would never be enough.

  The cold wood of the kitchen table nipped at her bottom as she was set down, lips worshipping her neck and making her sink deeper into the dark abyss of pleasure. She lost herself inside this perfect storm, her clumsy hands undoing his jeans as she kissed along his jaw and grew drunk on his
sensual noises. She was coaxed into lying back across her table, hands gripping her hips before pleasure shot up through her, his length filling her to full, making her squeal out and arch her back. His movements were harsh but slow, skin on skin slapping as she pulled him down and sank her teeth into his shoulder to suppress her screams. Her mind was a million miles away, drifting back to that moment on his desk being fucked just like this.

  Ava stared at the window next to them, watching them fuck, the distortion of reality more evident now as she watched his hair change from shades of red to black. She didn’t care for the glitches in reality, wanting to turn up the volume on this bad dream.

  If this was the only place where Nate could exist, she would lose herself just to find him.

  Twenty-Six

  A throbbing ache ran across Ava’s temples as she awoke to an empty bed, piercing white sunlight, and a terrible feeling in her gut. That feeling manifested itself into the form of Peter getting dressed at the end of her bed. Out of habit, Ava turned to her side, expecting an unwanted cup of coffee to be sat next to her bedside, but there wasn’t one.

  “Morning.” Peter smiled, yanking his zipper up before slipping on his jumper.

  “What time is it?” she croaked, her fingers touching her throat where it felt like she had gargled vodka and shards of glass.

  “Seven in the morning, go back to sleep, you look a little delicate, petal.” He chuckled as he rolled his top down over his modest abs.

  “Mmh, you could say that again.” Ava groaned, rubbing at her eyes and yawning as she sat up in bed. “Off so soon?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got breakfast with some mates,” Peter told her but there was something about his tone that made Ava doubt him.

  “Oh, alright, I was going to see if you wanted breakfast with me today…” Ava surprised even herself with this, but Peter’s reaction was one of bewilderment as he blinked at her like she had just offered her hand in marriage.

  Rubbing the back of his neck, he approached her with a sympathetic smile. “Look, Ava…what we have is really fun, but this isn’t good for either of us. I can’t keep doing this to myself, and honestly, I can’t keep doing it to you too.”

  “Oh…”

  “Workmates, yeah?” he asked, cupping the side of her face.

  Ava couldn’t understand the sinking feeling running through her. She honestly didn’t care that Peter wanted to end their hook-ups, but something was aching inside of her at his rejection. She pushed a fake smile to her lips and said, “Of course,” before watching Peter turn around to leave but stop as though he had suddenly remembered something.

  “Actually, before I go”—he pulled out a document from his back pocket and approached Ava—“would you mind signing this?”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s just the missives you typed up for me the other day, you forgot to sign them off and I’m on my way to post them today.” He smiled, setting the folded piece of paper in front of her and handing her a pen.

  “Yeah, no problem.” Ava yawned, one hand rubbing her tired eyes as the other signed her name at the bottom of the document.

  “Perfect, you’re a legend, ol’ girl!” He grinned and leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you at work on Monday. Try to nurse that hangover, yeah?” Peter chuckled and soon left her apartment, thereafter leaving Ava feeling an odd sense of abandonment. Why did she suddenly feel like broken goods?

  All weekend, Monday had loomed like a lone dark cloud during a heatwave, time seeming to jump-cut like a buffering video until it arrived. Ava had been dreading this moment as she walked into the office and sat down at her desk. Her hangover was still lingering after a weekend of banishing her sisters from visiting due to the “flu” and instead lounging in bed watching Friends and avoiding the fact that she was another year closer to thirty with nothing to show for it.

  She hadn’t been sat at her desk for longer than a few minutes before the intercom beeped and Nate was summoning her into his office.

  “Fuck off,” she uttered under her breath before leaning forward and yanking the plug out of the machine. As expected, moments later, Nate was stood in front of her desk, and her eyes reluctantly peered up at the dishonest scumbag. Her stomach twisted as her gaze landed on him. His stubble looked grown out and there were dark crescents under his eyes, but he still looked more handsome than ever.

  “Ms. Archer, I need you in my office.”

  “I’m busy,” she clipped out and flicked through the paperwork on her desk.

  “The filing can wait, I need to speak with you urgently in my office.” Nate’s tone was stone cold, his face an iceberg lost at sea as he walked back into his office and expected her to follow. However, that brat did anything but follow—she walked right past his damn door!

  A frustrated snuff left his nostrils as he went after her, following her down the hallway, watching her struggle with her arms full of folders as she headed towards the archive. The moment she stepped inside what looked like a mini library with shelves lining the room, Nate shut the door behind them both.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Ava jumped, startled by his presence as she peered over the top of the binders in her arms.

  “Well, I need to talk to you and it’s a bit hard when you won’t answer your texts or calls!”

  “It’s almost as if I blocked your number for a reason,” she chided sarcastically, her knee coming up to balance the folders but inevitably dropping them as they clattered to the ground.

  “Leave them,” Nate ordered when she started to fumble, but of course, she would ignore him and clumsily try to pick them up. He didn’t have time for this shit and stormed over to her, yanking her up by the elbow as he reiterated, “I said leave them.”

  “You have three seconds to get your bloody hands off of me before I—”

  “Why was Peter Taylor at your apartment on Saturday?”

  A dumbfounded look slapped Ava across the face as she gawked up at Nate. “How the hell did you know about that?”

  “Answer my question.”

  “I was fucking him,” she said provocatively, leaning her face closer to his as a dark smile crept onto her red lips. A possessive growl snarled from Nate’s nostrils, a sound that would have made Ava like putty in his hands, but that was before she found out he was a dishonest man. Scum, like the rest of them, hence why they weren’t worth her time.

  “That so?” he challenged, the anger evident on his reddening face as it was in his tone, his thick American accent growing sharper and rougher. “Was he as good a fuck as me?”

  “Careful, sir, your envy is showing.”

  “Oh, sweetheart”—Nate chuckled a deep, sardonic laugh—“it ain’t envy. Envy implies I want something that someone already has.” He yanked her elbow closer until he was pressed up to her front and inches away from her face. “I am jealous because that prick is tryna take what is already mine.”

  “I don’t belong to anyone, certainly not you.”

  “Yeah? So, you just fuck whoever ya want, when ya want, like a little slut—that it?”

  “Oh, because it’s always the woman that is the slut, right?” Ava barked now as he nipped at a nerve of hers. “A guy can fuck whoever he wants, whenever he wants and he is seen as nothing more than playing the field, a right lad! But the second a woman wants her sexual freedom, she’s what? A common fucking whore?!”

  Nate saw that he had struck a nerve, but this conversation was going way off course and he had to steer it back. As nuclear as it made him to imagine another man’s hands touching her porcelain skin, he knew she was right, and he knew he had no damn place getting mad at her for it, but he couldn’t stop himself. That redheaded punkass didn’t deserve to touch her goddess body…then again, neither did his own piece-of-shit ass.

  “Did you like the lilies?” he asked, frowning when Ava’s face twisted in confusion.

  “Wait, you got me the flowers?”

  “Yes, I left them on your doo
rstep as you weren’t answering your door, and before you say it, yes I know breaching your privacy isn’t ethical but I needed to speak to you and fix this.”

  Ava growled for one reason alone—all men were complete lying assholes it seemed.

  “There is nothing to fix; you’re married, end of discussion,” she seethed, finally yanking her elbow out of his grip and turning to leave.

  But Nate wasn’t taking no for an answer as he grabbed her wrists, spun her around, pinned her front against a filing cabinet, and restrained her arms behind her back.

  “Seriously, is this the only way I can get you to listen to me?” he growled, pressing up behind her as she squirmed and threw a tantrum, demanding to be let go.

  “I’ll scream, you fucking demented, ignorant, stupid, lying, dishonest piece of—”

  “Are you finished?” he interrupted, but that phrase seemed to pour gasoline over an open flame as she roared hellfire at him. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he groaned, adjusting his grip so both of her wrists were secured in one of his large hands and his other came down over her mouth. However, as her teeth sank down upon his palm he recoiled and shook his hand, wanting to roar as she laughed at his pain.

  Enough was enough.

  His hand wrapped around her hair and pulled her head back as he moved his lips to her ear, trying to not let her scent make him drunk, his voice softer than that of his touch as he whispered, “I’m begging you, please just listen to me, Ava?”

  Ava didn’t know if she was just messed up in the head but a part of her was secretly excited by this sudden change in dynamic between them both. Her heart was racing, pushing the blood south as her breath hitched in her throat. She would never admit it, but fuck did she miss him. “You have one minute to bore me with your excuses.”