Abigail
Jesus holy Christ, then all the saints above combined!
The door had swung open and my brain just packed its things, said you're on your own and disappeared into mush at the sight before me.
Finnegan Wolfe in a suit was devastating. Finnegan Wolfe in a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up was a problem. Finnegan Wolfe in low-slung grey sweatpants with no shirt on, his entire torso on full display was a freaking public safety concern.
Goddamn.
The sweatpants hung low at his hips, showing off that defined V leading into his pants. I wanted to know where they were, to see where they were.
The light from the chandelier caught every line of muscle, every ridge of his abdomen, the tattoo on his arms rippling sexily as he walked towards me with a mug in one hand. His hair was slightly disheveled, a few strands falling over his hardened stony face.
