The Stranger Behind My Orgasm novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22: JEALOUSY?

Abigail

"He’s going to crash!"

The black prototype veered off the track, all four tires leaving the ground for one heart-stopping second. My stomach dropped as the car launched into the air before slamming back down with a loud grate, spraying grass and dirt everywhere.

"No, he’s not." Tyler slid closer, his shoulder brushing mine. "Even machines must bow to the great Wolfe,"

He flashed me a grin when I glanced at him. He really thought that was funny?

The vehicle swerved wildly across the grass, the tires screaming and then suddenly the car skidded to a halt.

Every ounce of air left my lungs in a rush.

"See? Totally fine." Tyler chirped, leaning in closer. He smelled like mint, I used to like the smell of mint but he was giving the poor scent a bad name with the way his eyes kept dragging over my tits. "So, about that dinner I mentioned earlier..."

"Excuse me." I murmured, moving quickly towards the car. Tyler called after me but I couldn’t exactly hear him over the loud beating of my heart in my ears. He was nice, but he had the sex appeal of a golden retriever.

Nothing like the man currently climbing out of the prototype.

Finnegan yanked off his gloves sharply, His jaw was clenched so tight a muscle ticked while he scanned the car with blazing eyes.

God, even furious he was devastatingly handsome. He reached for the helmet strap and without thinking, I moved closer.

"Let me, Mr Wolfe,"

He paused, green eyes flicking to mine for a brief moment before he gave a grunt. That was caveman for yes, I guess.

The strap loosened under my fingers and the helmet lifted free. I set it aside and moved to the safety vest wrapped snugly around his torso. The material was thick, warm from his body heat radiating through the fabric.

There were multiple clips holding it secure. What if the crash had been worse? What if the car had turned upside down and the front of the vehicle caved in? How was he so still? He could have died... like mom and Dad.

The apartment Annette and I had driven to on Sunday, had been rundown as hell, it looked straight out of a horror movie. I didn’t think anyone lived there for years. When we stepped in, I half expected a ghost to pop out so I could wack it with my purse, instead all we saw was a spray painted sentence all over the walls.

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU SEARCH FOR.

It was confusing. Whoever sent me that box wanted me to know the truth, right? So why would they also be threatening me? I didn’t even know my parent’s death was a fucking homicide until they sent me that box and now they wanted me to back off?

"Miss Kellerman." Finnegan’s voice drew me out of my thoughts. I couldn’t look up at him, so I mumbled some response and kept tugging at the damned vest clip that wouldn’t come off.

"You’re shaking." My boss grumbled.

Yeah no shit, Sherlock Holmes.

"I’m fine." To my annoyance, I sounded so breathless you would think I ran a fucking marathon. I couldn’t help it, all I could see was that night, in the car, and my parents, dead.

Finnegan’s hand caught both of mine, pulling them away from the vest. His hand was warm, rough calluses pressing against my palms. I swallowed hard as he held my hands between us, thumbs brushing over the centers of my palms in slow, deliberate circles that sent electricity shooting straight up my arms.

"Soft," he murmured in a deep husky voice and my head tipped back to look up at him.

Big mistake. All the fear was gone and I was shaking from something else entirely.

Those green eyes dropped to where his hands completely engulfed mine, watching as his thumbs continued their torturous exploration, tracing the lines of my palms. A little gasp slipped from my lips when he applied pressure on the tender skin at my wrists.

My knees went weak like noodles.

Heat pooled low in my belly, spreading through my veins like liquid hot magma. My thighs clenched- God, who knew hands could be this erotic?

"Sir!"

I jerked away from him like I had been zapped.

Someone was getting fired. Multiple ’someones’. The car had malfunctioned, nearly killing the CEO, heads were about to roll like bowling balls.

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