Free The Insider by Stephen Frey Page B

picked up the envelope he had taken from Vogel, extracted the single piece of paper, and gazed at the name on the page. Beautiful, he thought.
     
    Abby lay on her side, naked beneath the covers as Oliver had instructed, her back to the bedroom door. She knew he was out in the living room doing the last of the cocaine. She pulled the covers up over her shoulders and shivered. It was like an ice cube in there because he had turned the air-conditioning up so high.
    She had been in there for fifteen minutes waiting and she was barely able to keep still. She was also barely aware that her toe was madly tapping the mattress and that she was grinding her teeth. She thought only about how happy she was.
    As they were snorting the cocaine together on the living room couch, Oliver had promised that he would ask his wife for a divorce and leave his Connecticut mansion. He had promised that he and Abby would move into an Upper East Side apartment together and live happily ever after. Abby giggled, then pushed her face into the pillow so Oliver wouldn’t hear. She’d always been such a good girl. Through college and her first few years on Wall Street, she’d never touched drugs or been with a married man. Never even considered things like that. However, Oliver had come on to her like a hurricane, and now she was engaging in sinful acts her Brooklyn parents would be mortified by. But she’d never experienced anything in her life like Oliver. Suddenly she was living on the edge, and every moment was exhilarating. Oliver seemed to know all about the finer things. He was a man who lived each day as if it were his last. He was a god—or more likely the devil—but she didn’t care. She just wanted to be with him. And she had confidence that, given enough time, she could change him. She had already made so much progress.
    The door creaked, and Abby’s body tingled as she heard Oliver remove his clothes. She felt the covers pull back and his warm body against hers. She turned to him and for several minutes they kissed wildly, the cocaine pulsing through their systems. Then he moved on top of her, spreading her roughly with his knees. She reached between his legs and her small fingers closed around his huge organ. She arched her back and screamed as he entered her and his lips closed around her dark nipple. He was so large it hurt for the first few seconds, but then the intense excitement of being with this man she idolized brought down her wetness, and she wrapped her arms around him and moved against his body.
    “You should be wearing something,” she moaned. “It’s getting close to that time.”
    “I don’t wear condoms,” he gasped. “You know that. I hate them.”
    “Still.”
    Oliver rose up and stared down at her, breathing hard, his chest glistening with perspiration.
    “Don’t stop,” Abby begged. “It was feeling so good.”
    Oliver smiled. “I’m going to make it feel even better.”
    “What do you mean?”
    Without answering he reached beneath the pillows and produced two neckties. “Give me your wrists,” he demanded.
    “Wh-What?” she stammered.
    “Your wrists. Give them to me.”
    Abby turned her head to the side. “Oliver, no.”
    He curled his fingers around her thin neck. “Don’t say no to me,” he hissed.
    “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said, holding her hands out obediently.
    Quickly he bound her wrists together and lashed them to the headboard. Then he wrapped the second tie around her neck, knotted it, and pulled it tight.
    “Oliver, please,” Abby gasped, her voice barely audible. She tried to struggle, but with her hands secured to the bed she was helpless.
    Oliver’s upper lip quivered as he saw the veins in her neck bulge. He pushed himself inside her again and began moving, slowly and methodically at first, then hard and fast. As his excitement increased, he pulled the tie around her neck tighter and tighter.
    Abby pulled desperately against the tie, panic setting in, but her