Claimed Series

Filthy

I look at her but I see Ava—when we were about to finish fucking, when I was about to let her and myself finally come, and…

I physically disengage from Marion, jerking away, and she gasps, leaning against the wall. Sighing, I run my fingers through my hair. I couldn’t have sex with Ava because I couldn’t forgive her… but how am I different from her now? I was about to fuck a complete stranger to fill a void I should have addressed—with the person I love.

“What’s wrong?” Marion asks me, lifting her eyebrow. She fixes herself, abruptly smoothing her hand over the shirt, not too happy about my faux pas.

“A lot, but it’s time I fixed it,” I say, determination bolting through me.

☆☆☆☆

Ava Pov::

I finish eatingthe food I heated ins the microwave, some healthy easy dish with a lot of broccoli and not enough carbs. Sighing, I reach for my glass filled with too much red wine. I sip, looking at my beautiful kitchen.

It’s been weeks since he’s left. I’ve tried to focus at work on the ad agency, or distract myself by meeting friends for drinks after. But every day is a reminder of all I’ve lost—my husband.

After I lost my mother, I dove deep into a well of sadness—which made me flirt with someone and sext him, what got me in trouble with Jack. Now that he’s gone, the sadness over losing my mother has returned with a vengeance, accompanied by the pain of saying goodbye to my partner.

He hasn’t served me the divorce papers yet, but every time the phone rings or the doorbell, I get startled, anxious and worried. I know it’s coming any time, and there is nothing I can do to fix it.

My marriage is over, and there’s nothing else that can be done. Hell, he wouldn’t even look me in the eye when we had sex. What does that tell me? I sigh. Another wave of disappointment washes over me.

The doorbell rings, and I chug another generous amount of wine before I stand and dash to the door.

I open the door, and Jack is on the other side. With his hair damp and face shaved, he looks like he could have walked out of a shower now. Even his scent is clean and crisp.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

I nod, an open the door wider for him to enter.

After he comes in, I smooth my hand down my sweatpants and shirt. My heart races, and blood drains from my face. What if he’s here to have the talk about our assets and how we move forward? I look at his hands, searching for an envelope or briefcase, but there’s nothing there.

He sits on the sofa, and I chose the love seat across from him. “How have you been?”

“Okay, you?” I say.

“I’ve been thinking a lot.”

No kidding. Three weeks and no phone call or visit.

“I was at a happy hour earlier, and this bartender came onto me. We made out.”

I swallow. Why on Earth would he tell me about his new adventures as a single man? I sink into the seat, a chilly sensation spilling into my stomach. Maybe he’s not the man I thought he was. What if Jack wants to purposely make me suffer and punish me in a different away? That I won’t have. “I appreciate your update, but I don’t—”

He lifts his hand, a silent plea for me to let him finish. “I didn’t have sex with her.”

“Okay,” I say, still not getting the point.

“I was harsh with you,” he said. “You made a mistake and apologized, and I couldn’t forgive you.”

My spine locks into place, and I slide to the edge of the seat. A cold sweat slicks my palms, and I find myself interested in what he’s about to say. More than that, I need to know what’s on his mind.

“I’m sorry, Ava.” He stands and walks over to me, sitting next to me.

I bite my lower lip. The idea of him making out with some random woman at the bar doesn’t put a smile on my face, but he’s with me now and not her. He didn’t have to tell me any of this, but he chose to. Why? A drop of hope leaks into my ocean of doubts.Because he cares for me.He has to—I want to touch him, but I hold myself back. Just in case I’m wrong. “Where do we go from here?”

He grabs my hand and places it on his heart. It’s beating madly, faster than normal. “We go anywhere we want… together. Loyal to each other, and determined to be with each other.”

My own heartbeat is drumming in my ears. I stare into his eyes. “Yes,” I hiss.

He takes me into his arms and kisses me—a breathy, savage, passionate kiss that makes me feel like the air is leaving my lungs. I touch him, my hands perusing from his shoulders to his chest, then resting on the bulge in his pants. He grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling it, earning a soft moan from me.

Fire ignites through me, and all I want is to remove my clothes and do the same to him. The hunger from months without sex only adds to the raw need to make him mine again.