The Stranger Behind My Orgasm

Abigail

She would have begged me to fuck her. I just knew she would have.

The keynote speaker for the seminar in Denver was saying something about emerging automobile markets. I had the program open on my desk and my eyes pointed at the stage but approximately none of my attention was in this room.

What I had instead was the memory of her hand closing around my cock in a hospital room. God, her touch had felt familiar. Hot and familiar. I loved the way her breath caught when she felt how hard I was, that soft broken moan against my jaw, Finn.

I turned a page of the program I hadn’t read.

She would be home by now. James should have taken her straight there. It had been terrifying seeing her slump like that, her eyes not opening.

Fuck, I had stormed down the hallway to drag Hale our of the ward he was in so he would check on her.

She would be fine. Why did she react so strongly to hospitals though? A flash of her having a panic attack some two months ago in the elevator filled my head.

What one earth had happened to Abigail Kellerman? The hall thundered with applause, drawing me out of my thoughts. The speaker strutted off the platform and I closed the program.

The MC stepped back to the podium, adjusted the microphone, and began the introduction for the next segment. I straightened slightly, reaching for the inside pocket of my jacket where my speech was-

"Please welcome to the stage, representing The Wolfe Industries... The Matriarch herself, Gina Wolfe."

I froze in the middle of standing up from my seat and turned my head very slowly to the stage.

Mother climbed the steps to the podium all draped in some ivory silk dress, her silver hair swept up in a bun. My jaw locked at the sight as the applause went on around me.

I dropped back on my seat, biting back a bitter laugh that bubbled up my throat. My mother was standing giving a speech that I had been scheduled to give.

The urge to storm out was strong, pressing and pushing against my bones. My eyes caught several cameras and journalists scattered around the hall.

The last thing I wanted was to give the press something to gnaw on. I could see the headlines already, ’Wolfe gets furious as his mother usurps him.’

How could she humiliate me like this? Mother could be overbearing and demanding, but she had never gone this far. She was never supposed to go this far.

After two solid hours of torture and seething within, barely clamping a lid over the anger rolling through my veins, I found mother at her car, handing her bag to the driver. The Denver afternoon was cold and grey, whipping and ruffling through my hair as I covered the gap between us in quick strides.

"You didn’t say you were coming,"

She arched her brow, turning to face me fully. "Neither did you. I heard you were giving the speech."

"And you decided to supplant me?"

"Pssh, supplant," she scoffed, waving a hand in the air.

"Fourteen countries tuned in today, Dominic. Fourteen countries were going to see my son give a speech that he didn’t run past me first, or consult me, "You were simply going to walk out there..." She made a small sound that sounded like a mix of a sigh and a scoff, "...and what? Hope for the best?"

"Why do I need to run the speech by you? I’m not a child, I know how to give a bloody speech,"

"I will do anything to protect my poor husband’s company. I ran the company with him while you were in diapers. You know nothing, Finnegan."

"I am the CEO of Wolfe Corporation, Mother," I said through clenched teeth. "I represent the company. Not you."

"Oh wow, would you look at that?" she scoffed, clapping her hands rather dramatically. "I knew it would come to this. Now you want to throw me aside? Just like you threw Devin aside."

The wind whipped harder against me, but the pain it caused against my skin was nothing compared to the hot searing pain in my chest. Mother always twisted the knife harder so it would hurt.

For fifteen years, she had dug that knife deeper, twisting harder. Nothing I did would be good enough. I wasn’t her precious Devin, her beloved son and the only light in her life.

You would think that after thirty five years of being made to feel inadequate, I would be used to it.

I am your son, too!

I wanted to scream those words out, to tell her to stop comparing us. That her comparison had led to bad blood brewing between I and Devin, we never saw eye to eye even in his death.

"If anything," I murmured, digging my nails into my palm, "It was you and Devin who pushed me aside." The wind picked up harder against us.

"I know what you wanted. I have always known what you wanted. You want him to stand where I’m standing and we both know it. He’s dead, Mother. Devin has been dead for fifteen years. Stop plaguing me with his ghost."

Her eyes grew all misty and my insides twisted. I turned around on my heels, my shoes stomping hard against the concrete floor of the car park while I strode to my car. The driver already had the backseat open, thank fuck, or I wouldn’t be able to hide the searing anguish burning through my veins.

"Drive me to the nearest bar," I told him, tightening the cufflinks on my wrist and loosening them. Whiskey sounded like a damned idea right now but I need privacy and solitude. I needed to get my thoughts under control.

The driver turned the ignition and pulled the car out without a word. I waited until we were moving, the hall disappeared behind us and the Denver streets opened up. Then I pulled out my phone and dialed Matt.

"Boss?"

"How close are you to finding her?"

There was a pause on the other end before he replied. "Two days, sir. Seventy-two hours or maybe less. I’ll have a name and a face."

I glanced out the window at the city moving past us and tightened my grip around the device.

"Make it forty-eight hours. No more, Matt,"

In two days, I would find out who Red was.