Illicit Affairs by Holly Dixon

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.

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 placedthe 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.