Illicit Affairs by Holly Dixon

Eight

“I mean,it’s pretty impressive when you think about it, one million steps in one month and it’s for a good cause.” Peter’s voice droned on somewhere in the distance over the noise of the busy cocktail bar, but Ava’s mind was elsewhere as she thought about the terms of the NDA she had just signed.

The contract was straightforward: do not speak to anyone other than the client, her attorney, or Mr. Brooks about the Forbes case. However, it wasn’t the legal bindings of the agreement that was playing on Ava’s mind. Mr. Brooks had been very clear that every day she would be required to work after hours with him. The contract detailed that a private meeting would be held daily, in his office, to discuss the details of the case, that their calendars should be booked out during this time, statuses set to do not disturb, and for the office door to be locked. Something about that last condition put Ava on edge, sparking her excitement at the thought of being alone with him, but she couldn’t quite understand why he had that effect on her. It was one thing to be attracted to a man, but it was something else completely when you lusted after one to the point of it becoming an obsession.

“Ava?” Peter asked, waving his hand in front of Ava’s vacant stare fixed on the street outside the bar window, the glass a series of bokeh lights from the raindrops trickling down the glass.

“Hm?” she asked in a daze, turning her attention towards him again.

“Hey!” He laughed and took a sip from his pint of lager. “You were a million miles away, ol’ girl.”

“Sorry, my brain is still in work mode.” She sighed with a smile, sweeping her long hair back from her face and resting her head on her hand. “What were you saying?”

“I was just talking about the charity ball coming up. I presume you’ll be my arm candy for the evening?”

“Very presumptuous of you, Mr. Taylor. What makes you think I don’t have a date already?” Ava teased, her long legs slowly crossing underneath the high bar table as she hid her smirk behind her glass of wine and enjoyed Peter’s staggered expression.

“You do? Who?” Peter inquired, a hint of envy laced through his tone that brought the green out in his eyes.

“Why does it matter?” Ava shrugged, her coy smile evident as she lowered her glass.

“Just so I can size up the bloke.”

“What?”

“You know, so I can cut him down to size and politely tell the gent that he is punching way above his weight with a lady such as yourself,” Peter explained confidently as he rolled up the light-blue sleeves of his shirt exposing the ink running up his forearms.

Ava threw her head back and laughed. “You absolute knob!”

Peter’s face lit up watching her laugh like that, his hand slowly snaking around her knee and making Ava’s expression turn sober when she saw that familiar look on his face.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” Peter asked, his bottom lip caught under his teeth.

The front doorbanged open as it did most Friday nights and the pair tumbled into Ava’s apartment like a hurricane, a frenzy of copper and gold as jackets were tossed and shoes were kicked. Books thumped against the floor as Ava pushed Peter up against the bookshelf in her hallway, her mouth latching on to the side of his neck and tasting the bitter spice of his cheap cologne. Hearing him hiss from between his teeth only spurred her on as she tugged at his shirt, roughly untucking it from his work slacks and jerking apart the lapels until his buttons popped open and his chest was exposed for her hungry mouth to lap up.

“Jesus Christ, Ava,” Peter huffed hotly, his fingers digging into her ample hips, bringing her closer. “The hell has gotten into you? Not that I’m complaining,” he scoffed before groaning as Ava’s teeth grazed against his left nipple, his eyes closing as he leaned his head against the shelf behind him.

Truthfully, Ava didn’t know what had gotten into her, so amped up after a stressful few weeks with her father taking ill and working the week from hell with her enigmatic new boss. Something had her desperate for a release, needing to vent all that pent-up energy and take it out on her plaything.

“Shut up,” she snarled erotically, looking up at Peter with a burning demand in her eyes, a dark grin sprawling across her face that Peter mimicked before he yanked her body forward and crashed his eager mouth against her own. Her tongue chased after his, fingers tangled around auburn strands as feet stumbled through her apartment leaving a trail of clothes in their path.

“Bloody hell,” Peter laughed incredulously as his back bounced against Ava’s mattress, the blonde woman standing at the end of the bed smirking down at him like a cougar about to pounce on its dinner.

“I said…” Ava warned, reaching behind her to slowly pull the silver zip down her dress. The material eventually sprung apart before the shoulders slid down her arms and sensually revealed her underwear as she sneered, “Shut…up.”

She couldn’t help but revel in Peter’s reaction, his mouth snapping shut before his jaw slowly descended upon seeing the French lingerie adorning her voluptuous body. She had an affinity for all things luxurious and her lingerie certainly fell into that category.

“Yes, madam.” He gulped, nodding his head and propping himself up on his elbows to get a better view of this woman that he couldn’t get enough of, even after the several times they fucked. That black lace teddy with red roses embellishing her smooth tummy was enough to bring any man to his hands and knees.

This was Ava’s game; one she had mastered after many one-night stands. The fiery little vixen crawled provocatively onto her mattress between the redhead’s legs before eventually straddling his lap and peering down at the many tattoos covering his bare chest.

“Good boy,” she cooed down at Peter, guiding his hands onto her petite waist, and slowly sliding them up to her chest, noticing his growing arousal pressing up against her thigh. Her hands moved his southwards towards her sweet centre but at the last minute she snapped and pinned his hands above his head, her eyes daring him to try to resist her. With one quick, assertive movement, she had taken his belt and bound his wrists with it.

Temptation was something Ava knew well, and it was something she always impulsively acted on. She knew that the only way to get rid of that lustful urge was to yield to it.

All week she had felt the unwarranted itch of desire and now she was using Peter to scratch it for her.

Morning brokethrough Ava’s curtains, her lashes fluttering into consciousness as she watched the specks of dust floating in the sunbeams.

“Good morning, gorgeous!” Peter’s voice reverberated off all four walls in her bedroom making her brain ache as she hid beneath the sheets. “Coffee,” he chuckled, placing a mug down onto her nightstand.

“I don’t drink coffee,” she grumbled, resenting her hospitality for keeping coffee stocked in the apartment for guests. Ava peeked only a pair of sapphires out of the bedsheets as she squinted up at Peter’s messy mop. “What time is it?”

“Back of nine.”

“Back of what?!” Ava squeaked, shooting upright and not caring that the upper half of her body was exposed and igniting a greedy gleam in Peter’s eyes.

“It’s alright, love. It’s the weekend.” Peter laughed, sipping at his cuppa, his presence starting to irk Ava as she got out of bed and resisted his attempts of pulling her body close to his. “What’s the hurry?”

“I’ve got things to do, places to be!” Ava sighed impatiently while peeling his arm away from her waist and padding into her en suite with Peter in tow.

“Oh,” he said, a little disappointed. “I thought we could maybe have breakfast together?”

Her feet skidded to a stop against her bathroom tiles. Not this again.

“Peter…” Ava’s tone was a warning as she slowly turned around to face his wandering eyes dragging down her model body.

“I know, I know”—his hand motioned at her to slow down—“just sex and all that, but we can still have breakfast together for Pete’s sake!” He laughed, putting down his coffee and stepping closer to her until his hands landed upon her upper arms. “C’mon, it’ll be nice, I’ll make you a hangover smoothie.”

“I can’t,” Ava stated sternly, taking his hands and placing them back at his sides. “Sorry, I’m just very busy today,” she added a little more softly before coaxing him out of her bathroom, “I’m visiting my father at his estate this weekend and I promised I’d be on time for brunch, which I’m now going to be late for.”

“So? I’m sure he’ll understand—breakfast is the most important meal of the day!”

“Perhaps next weekend. Just…see yourself out, alright?” Ava called through the bathroom door that she now shut in his face as politely as she could manage.

That was the trouble with her arrangement with Peter; it was no longer just a one-night stand. The sex was above par and he was certainly a very attentive lover, but there was more than just the problem of things getting too familiar with them both now…

Peter hadn’t managed to scratch her itch.