The Stranger Behind My Orgasm

Finnegan

That little fucker had his hands around her throat.

Oh no, no he would pay. I didn’t understand how and why he attacked her, but that would definitely be his last.

Terror tore through me, hot like magma when I got into that corridor and saw Abigail—my Abigail getting choked by some asshole.

Hell even now as I carted her up the elevator into my penthouse, my heart still slammed hard against my ribcage. What if I had been just a little late?

What if I hadn’t been worried that she wasn’t back from the bathroom? I had cut my speech short when she didn’t return because I was terrified she had run off, still mad at me—and thank Christ I was.

I lowered her on the sofa, my heart breaking at the sight of her. Her eyes were red at the rims, the bruising at her throat got darker by the minute and my jaw clenched.

Her hair was still tousled from that bastard’s grip. I reached out to stroke the silky strands and her blue eyes glared daggers at me as she reared her head away from me.

I crouched in front of her, dragging a hand down my face.

We needed to talk. And now that she was calmer, I had to tell her.

"I got married to Victoria on February fourteenth—"

She scoffed icily. "I’m not interested in your excuses,"

"I know," I muttered, taking her hand in mine. "It was the happiest day of my life. At least I believed it was but we grew apart quickly."

"She wanted the Wolfe name and as soon as she had my daughter, she had secured it and didn’t need me anymore." I pulled out my phone with my other hand, navigating to years of messages between us.

"I don’t have concrete proof that she’s cheating. These are the only evidence I have. But it’s not enough to divorce her on the ground of infidelity. I’d lose my company,"

Abigail’s eyes widened as she scrolled through the messages from my wife. Now, she looked interested.

"She even got to the PI I had sent to find some evidence. Somehow he ended up in Victoria’s bed,"

"She sounds like a bitch,"

A hollow chuckle slipped from my lips.

Direct as always, I loved her for it.

"I had never wanted anyone else, Abigail. For years of this sham of a marriage, I had never touched anyone else." I held her gaze.

"And then there was that flight some six months ago, one of the hardest nights I had had in a long time, but I don’t remember it that way, because I met you that night."

She blinked rapidly, and looked away pulling her hand away from mine.

"I’m sorry you’ve been through all of that, Abigail. I mean that." She drew in a breath and whispered softly. "But you didn’t tell me. Do you not... Do you just trust me?"

I dragged a hand through my hair. "It isn’t that I don’t trust you,"

"Then what is it?"

"Every woman in my life has used what they knew about me as a weapon." I bit the words, out harsher than I intended.

"My mother, my wife, the people I hired, people I paid, people I thought were in my corner! I have spent years living on eggshells in my own life and I didn’t want to bring that into whatever we had. I didn’t want it near you, I didn’t think I had to."

Her gaze flickered down, then back up."Do you realize," she said, and her voice cracked just slightly, "...that you still call her your wife?"

What? Oh, shit. It was just habit. "She’s not anymore,"

She swallowed hard.

"Whether you admit it or not." Her eyes turned glassy with tears. "You still see her that way. As your wife."

"She has not been my wife in any meaningful sense for years,"

"But on paper she is." She lifted her chin."I want to go home. I’m tired. This was just sex between us anyway. I think it’s run its course."

She might as well have dug a knife into my chest. I pulled her against me, holding her tightly, terrified that if she walked out the door, I would lose the one person who made me fucking feel.

"You know it was never just sex between us," I said against her hair. "You know that."

"Then what was it?" She demanded. "What exactly was it, Finn? Because I don’t have a word for it and I don’t know what I’m holding onto or why. Just let go."

"I’ll fix this." My arms tightened around her. "I’ll fix it. All of it. Just don’t..."

Don’t leave me.

She pushed away from me gently patting my chest lightly, her blue eyes gazing sadly at me.

"Thank you for standing up for me back there," she whispered. "And for finding me in time-"

"Don’t do this," I rasped, wanting to latch on to her and never let go. "Abigail, just give me some time,"

"I have to go, Mr Wolfe."

It felt like a door slammed close between us. I wanted to rip it down, tear it to pieces.

Mr Wolfe?

The urge to push her down on the sofa, and make her take it all back, make her scream my name, make her tell me she belonged to me, only me surged through my veins but I clamped it down, gritting my teeth.

Words were of no use in situations like these.

I picked up my phone and called James. "Miss Kellerman will be downstairs shortly, please drive her home safely."

She strode to the elevator without looking back, no matter how much I willed her to.

The doors coosed up and I remained in my penthouse, anger rolling through my veins in waves.

Victoria and Mother, they had caused enough fucking havoc in my life. I was tired of these games, I needed to be done with Victoria once and for all.

Then I could have her. I could...I tapped on my phone rapidly, dialing one of my lawyers number. It was time for action, words were useless now.

"Prepare the divorce papers," I ordered. "I’m done waiting."

"Are you sure, sir? Should Mrs Wolfe contest it, she could potentially claim up to half of everything you own."

"Not on grounds of negligence," I said through gritted teeth. "We haven’t explored that, have we?"