The Stranger Behind My Orgasm

Abigail

I had a knack for driving myself into a freaking corner.

Why had I even mentioned travelling on Valentine’s Day?

Now Finnegan’s emerald orbs were fixed on me, narrowed in suspicion. All it would take would be a few more questions, and he would find I was the woman on the plane that he had fucked. I didn’t burn that envelope just so I could slip and mess up with my own freaking mouth.

"Uhm, my grandparents," I mumbled, quickly swiping through my tablet to find something work-related to bring up.

"Oh," His shoulders deflated, and he leaned back in his seat. "And your parents?"

My fingers shook over the screen of the tablet slightly. Cole’s words from yesterday replayed in my head.

"The witness is dead," He whispered when I met up with him in a café not far from home. "They know we’re looking. You have to lay low, okay? Don’t go around digging."

"Who are they?! Who the fuck is trying to cover my parents’ death? What exactly did my parents even see?"

"We’ll find out, just lay low,"

"Dead," I said dryly, tapping on a document. "Shall we discuss the schedule for the conference in Boston?"

When I looked up, Finnegan’s eyes had softened into melting pools of heat. Ugh, I hoped he wouldn’t ask me what happened to them. The last thing I wanted right now was to burst into tears in front of my boss.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, we landed in Boston. The ground crew had the stairs down before the engines finished cycling, two black cars running on the tarmac with their drivers on standby.

Amanda Ronan, who was Boston’s Wolfe Corp’s COO, stood by one of the cars, a stiff smile on her face as she welcomed us.

"Mr. Wolfe." She was a brunette in her forties or so. Her hair was braided into a tail behind her, her body covered in a black two-piece suit.

"Mrs. Ronan," Dominic said politely while I extended a hand.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Abigail Kellerman. Mr. Castellano’s assistant,"

"A pleasure," She replied, taking my hand firmly. Damn, she was built like a man.

We took a quick tour around the branch in Boston, and by quick, I meant six-hour back-to-back meetings with several departments in Wolfe Corp.

By the time we finally arrived at our hotel, I was starving as hell. The hotel staff had already delivered our luggage and had settled us in our rooms.

Our cojoined rooms.

I sat on the chair in my room. It was pretty huge; the cream-colored walls had golden colored drapes that covered a floor-to-ceiling window on one aspect of the wall. The words, Hallowed Angel were printed on the little tea cups and plate sets in the small dining area in the room.

Who on earth named a hotel Hallowed Angel? Were there angels that weren’t hallowed? Was there some sort of hierarchy?

A little giggled slipped past my lips when I saw a tiny baby cherub hanging off the ceiling right above my bed. The queen-sized bed was covered in golden sheets that were satin soft.

Thus, it was pure luxury, ridiculous name aside. My eyes darted to the bed and back to the connecting door between my door and Finnegan’s door.

He was right there, beyond that door. I could hear the faint sound of water running through the walls, and it was only my body warming up, heat pooling between my thighs.

What was he doing? Of course, he would want to shower; I should shower too. I reached for my top and pulled it over my head, sighing as the fabric slid off my tits that were ready to spill out of my bra.

Swinging the blouse over my shoulder, I strutted to the bathroom. A large mirror was the first thing I saw when I did. The walls were tiled and gilded with gold.

There was a glass wall separating the counter area from the bathtub and shower in the bathroom, and what a huge tub.

Annette would freaking love this place. I had to get in the tub ASAP. I rushed back to the room to get my toiletries and phone, grabbed one of the free bath bombs the hotel left in the cupboard drawers, and tossed it in the tub.

One long, deep soak later, I rose out of the tub, drenched and smelling like flowers. I had taken some pictures for Anette, and we had gotten on a long call, gushing over the bath bombs and how I had better bring her some or I was sleeping on the streets.

I cackled at the thought, slipping on a negligee. Sitting on the bed, I grabbed my tablet to go through the itinerary for tomorrow.

Another terribly busy day. Amanda had said something about visiting the factory here in Boston. I hadn’t included that in his schedule because he hadn’t expressed any interest in going there. I had to confirm that with him, so I would know if I had to find a way to fit it in his itinerary.

My bottom lip got caught in my teeth as my belly fluttered in anticipation. Oh fuck, look at that? I thought with a groan as I approached the connecting door and knocked. He had me acting like I was some silly schoolgirl before her crush.

The door opened, and everything flew out of my head.

All he had were grey sweatpants sitting low on his hips and nothing else. The pool between my legs turned into the fucking seas.

His hair was damp, and there was a drop of water making its slow way down the center of his chest. I watched it roll down his golden skin, my mouth watering, the urge to catch it on my tongue. He was so close.

Goddamn.

The tattoos bleeding down his left arm flexed, glistening in the light. There was a word tattooed in the mass of tattoos on his arm. I wanted to read it. I wanted to get close enough to read it with my lips.

My thighs pressed together.

"Miss Kellerman," Oh, that voice. That husky, thick, sexy voice. My head dropped back to look up at him, aware that my tits were straining hard and shamelessly against my thin negligee.

"Yeah, uhm... I had a question,"

His abs clenched, and I couldn’t... I couldn’t fucking resist. My hand reached out between us and pressed flat against his hot, taut skin. I was horny. I couldn’t stay away.