The Stranger Behind My Orgasm

Finnegan

I don’t think I have seen anything more fucking annoying than Huntington laughing his head off like a hyena.

His neck rocked backwards, his matted hair flailing slightly from the rough movements his head was making that I was so tempted to smash the class and hit him straight on the neck.

"I asked a simple question,"

"Oh man," he cackled, slapping his palm on the table repeatedly. "So Abby got to you too?! Oh, man,"

"What is that supposed to mean?" My face creased in an angry frown, my heartbeat pounding hard.

He tilted his head, his eyes wide with mirth. "Funny, isn’t it? She played you just like she played me." His mouth curved up in a mischievous smile. "I know her dirty secrets,Wolfe. Every single one. And they’re all yours the moment you sign my release."

"I am not interested in Miss Kellerman’s secrets. I asked a simple question," I bit out, straightening my jacket.

"Yeah sure, so you’re just asking if she had red hair for work reasons? Wolfe Corp has a thing against gingers? You want to know?" He leaned forward against the glass, his bloodshot eyes gleaming with mischief. "Get me out first. Then we’ll talk."

I didn’t blame him. Thinking I could reason with a fool, was a foolish idea in itself.

"Enjoy your stay, then," I shrugged and turned to leave.

"You want her don’t you?!" Drake yelled and a muscle in my neck throbbed in irritation.

"You’re fucking her. I know you are! She isn’t getting it from me so she’ll have to get it from someone else. Abigail’s too fucking horny all the time to be alone-"

He trailed off when I glanced at him over my shoulder. "If you do not shut the hell up, I’ll make sure you never see the sun again."

That got his lips zipping shut almost immediately. But the noises in my head only grew louder.

She played you.

I stalked out of the prison building to the car on the driveway. Connor sat behind the wheels, drumming on the steering wheel with an earphone in one ear. He yanked it off quickly when he saw me approach and stepped out to open the backdoor.

"All done, boss? Gee, I wonder who you came to see. This place gives me the creeps you know,"

Telling Connor to shut up was like telling a river to run backwards so I simply fixed him a glare and settled against the seat, whipping my phone out.

Drake Huntington’s Instagram was public, wasn’t it? If he had been in a relationship with Abigail Kellerman, his social media feed would definitely have proof or traces of it. One way or the other, I needed to quell these rising doubts in my mind.

As Connor drove me back to my penthouse, I scrolled through Huntington’s page hunting for answers I hoped wouldn’t be true. How the idiot had posted on his account that he was in prison was beyond me. Either he or his manager were big dumbasses if they thought posting that would help his career.

My thumb scrolled over and stopped on a post.

I found her.

Abigail, younger by what looked like a year or two, laughing at something off-camera, her head thrown back. She was wearing a silver dress that was held up by a tiny strap.

Her tits, her soft, supple breasts were barely covered with that neckline and they looked like they would spill. My blood boiled when I noticed Drake’s arm right under them as he grinned behind her.

Her hair was down. And it was red.

Dark, rich, copper-red hair, draping down her shoulders in bouncy waves , a care free smile on her lips.

I scrolled through each slowly, swallowing hard.

Abigail in red hair, Abigail laughing, Abigail with Drake’s arm around her shoulders, her eyes all starry as she stared up at him. Abigail kissing Huntington.

All in fucking red hair.

My fingers clenched around my phone as I checked the date on the most recent picture.

February ten. That was four days before Valentine’s Day.

...I want you to fuck me.

...I was flying to see my grandparents.

The phone suddenly felt heavy. My arm trembled and I dropped the device on the seat, taking in deep breaths. There had to be some sort of explanation for this.

I was simply projecting Red on Abigail.

So, it was merely a coincidence that she used to have red hair and was on a flight on Valentine’s Day?

Was it also mere coincidence that she felt like Aphrodite, tasted, sounded like Aphrodite?

Fuck okay it still didn’t fucking match up. Aphrodite was different from Abigail and so was Red... did I not feel this mad burning for Red, the way I felt for Abigail now?

The sharp buzz of my phone cut through the tense silence. I flipped it over and a giggle almost slipped past my lips.

Of all things. HD Deliveries the courier company was scrawled across the screen like the universe had a perfect sense of humor.

"Mr. Wolfe." A man spoke on the other end in a cool, brisk voice. "Apologies for the delay in getting back to you. You had a query regarding a delivery made to Wolfe Corp Industries, last Thursday."

"I did."

"We have confirmed. We did have a package for you, sir. It was delivered to the right location, sir. And was signed by a "Miss Abigail Kellerman"

And I swear the whole fucking world held its breath. For a split minute, I felt weightless, replying that night over and over in my head.

Are you certain there was no package delivered here?

Y-Yeah.

She had looked me in the eye. And she had lied.

"You’re certain about this?"

I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t... Why would she like receiving the package?

"Yes sir. I have the signature here on the log. Miss Abigail Kellerman," The man’s voice and the sound of the car skidding to a halt in front of my penthouse reached my ears.

I ended the call.

My jaw was so tight I could feel the grinding pain in my temples. I pressed my thumb and forefinger against my eyes, a strange emotion coursing through me. Not anger.

If my assistant took the package, and lied to me about it, she had to know what was in the package. She had wanted to hide it from me.

Why?

There was only one reason why.

Abigail Kellerman was Red. She was fucking... Dammit! I growled, the phone creaking in my fist as I crushed it in my grasp. Anger bubbled through my veins and I gritted my teeth.

She lied to me.

What else was she lying about? I was going mad, obsessing over three different women... What if they were not three different women?

A knock on the car window had me looking up. Henry stood outside the car,the expression etched on his face so sour I knew, I fucking knew what he was about to say.