Read Underestimated Page 25


  I didn’t answer and Drew led me back to the house by my hand. What the hell was wrong with me? Did I forget how to have sex too? I was sure I could keep up, but there was something that I just couldn’t put a finger on that scared the hell out of me.

  Drew led me right to his room and moved me to his bed. He slid off my sneakers and socks. He ran his hands up my bare legs and told me to lie back. I did, and he removed my shorts and panties. He pulled me back up and helped me out of my braless shirt. I couldn’t breathe. He was moving too fast. I wasn’t used to this and wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t have to worry about it. Drew took control and instructively told me what to do.

  All of a sudden I was scared. The look on his face instantly changed, and I was staring into the eyes of Satan.

  “Spread your legs,” he said with a tone that I didn’t like. I didn’t do it.

  I trembled when he did it himself. What was he doing? Why was he making me feel this way? Shouldn’t he be holding me in his arms, telling me that he loved me, and it was okay?”

  That was the first night that I caught a glimpse or a vision. I wasn’t sure what the hell it was, but it scared the hell out of me.

  Drew ran his fingers up my slippery folds. My eyes closed, and I felt faint.

  “Do you want to come, Morgan?” he asked in a voice that was familiar. I just didn’t know why it sounded familiar.

  How the hell was I supposed to answer that? Of course, I wanted to come. I wanted to come the moment he touched me down there. He leaned on one elbow beneath me as his fingers did extraordinary things to me. I was so close. I was right there ready to climax when the image flashed through my mind. It was Drew. He hit me across the face with the back of his hand, and I heard his angry tone.

  “I told you not to come,” the voice echoed through my mind, and just like that it was gone.

  It was enough though. It was enough to scare the living hell right out of me. I quickly sat up.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, shocked as I grabbed my clothes and started pulling them on.

  “I don’t know what it is. Something.” I assured him.

  He softly took me in his arms. “Morgan?” he said.

  “Did you hit me, Drew?” I asked, looking up to him. I had to.

  “What?” he asked like I was crazy. “No. I never hit you. Why would you ask something like that?”

  “I just had a quick image of you hitting me.”

  “Baby, I’m sure it’s just your mind playing tricks on you. Come back to bed with me.”

  “I can’t,” I admitted, pulling on my shorts. “I’m not ready for this.”

  I left him and headed back upstairs to my own safe room, but it didn’t feel at all. I felt far from safe when I closed my door. I crawled into my bed and tried to relax. Why did I just see Drew hit me? It was so real. Was it my subconscious? Did he really hit me? I was probably just being over sensitive. It was probably nothing. I let my mind drift off to what was about to happen in his bed. I knew that I was still wet and more than ready as I recalled his fingers doing what they were doing.

  Before I knew it my own hands were inside of my panties, pleasing myself. It felt strange. I almost felt like he was watching me for some reason. I knew that it was crazy and was probably just in my over active imagination.

  “Stop,” I heard Drew whisper right beside my bed.

  I did stop. I tried to conspicuously remove my hand without him knowing that it was there. How embarrassing was that? Did he know? Why was he telling me to stop?

  I stared at him with wide eyes as he removed the covers and ran his hand up my leg. He didn’t look at my face and again slid me out of my shorts. I was frozen. I couldn’t move. Twice now I had been on the brink of orgasm. I wanted to stop him, but I didn’t want to stop him. I wondered what the chances of him taking care of me and not making me have sex with him were.

  I could tell that he was trying exceedingly hard to be attentive with me, but for some reason he was fighting something. I just couldn’t figure out what it was. The expressions changed rapidly from patient and loving to vengeance and hate. What the hell was his problem? I didn’t stop him again. I didn’t have the control. I had a need that was dying to be filled.

  He didn’t let me come. Every time I would get close he would stop. I wanted to come so bad I could taste it. What the hell was his problem? The third time that I was close, and he knew it, he stopped again. He took my leg and twisted it over my body so that I was half on my stomach. I wanted to protest, but when I felt his fingers slide my juices from the front of me all the way to the back, I couldn’t. I was aroused, scared, and exposed, and all I could do was lay there and let him have his way. I knew then that he was the leader in the bedroom. I just wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I obviously liked it. I did marry him almost eight years before.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt again when I felt his finger penetrating my anus. I mean. I thought I liked it, but I didn’t know if I was reacting out of fear or arousal. I grabbed the sheet and squeezed it into my fist as I felt him slide his finger into me. The other one had been dancing on my clit up until that time. He moved it and used his hand to spread me more as his finger penetrated me, slowly in and out. I would have to say that it felt better when his finger was massaging my clitoris, but I still didn’t stop him. I couldn’t.

  I almost panicked when I heard his zipper being slid down. I wanted to protest and stop him, but it was almost like I was afraid of him. Why would I be afraid of him?

  I couldn’t believe it. Our first time making love in who knew how long and he thought that he was going to put it in my ass? I don’t think so.

  That was exactly what he did and I let him. He brought his knees to the bed and spread me as much as he could. As soon as I felt his finger slide out I felt the head of him trying to enter me, I had to protest.

  “Drew,” I said, trying to stop him.

  “Shhhh,” he countered as he moved in a little more. “I’ll let you come too, don’t worry.”

  What? Why would I worry? That vision suddenly became so real.

  “Give me your hand,” he requested.

  I reached my hand to his. I thought he wanted to hold it, to reassure me. He wanted me to hold myself open for him so that he could put his hands on the bed to the sides of me and move in and out of me more forcefully. This wasn’t what I had in mind for our first time. He did hold true to his word. He moved into an upright position, pulling me with him and placed his thumb back to my core as he pulled me toward him. I called out in agonizing pleasure as he shoved deep into my ass and released his own satisfaction.

  “God, I missed you,” he whimpered, pulled himself out of me, kissed me on the head and left.

  What the fuck?

  What just happened here? I felt violated, hurt, confused, and dirty. I jumped in the shower and scrubbed every inch of him off of me. I didn’t love that man. I could never love someone like him. Did I? No. No. I couldn’t love him. It was impossible.

  I spent the better part of the next day in my room, afraid to face him after what had happened the night before. He sent a tray up with the cook, and I ate in my room. I felt like I was sinking into a hole, some sort of depression. I sat in the chair by the window and stared out blankly trying to figure out where I belonged. I didn’t feel like it was there at all.

  Around one in the afternoon, I heard a knock on my door. When I opened it there was a lady carrying a bag. I had forgotten all about the dinner party that I was attending with Drew. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to go somewhere, but not there with him.

  “I’m here to take care of your hair for the night. Are you ready?”

  I didn’t need anyone to take care of my hair. I could take care of it myself. Did Drew send her?

  Of course, I let her in, and we moved to the vanity. She did my hair and makeup, taking almost two hours. My butt hurt so badly from sitting, and I squirmed trying to ease the discomfort.

  I followed her to the door and then
headed to Drew’s office.

  I was stoned stupid when I stood outside listening to the conversation between him and Derik.

  “She’s not your little slave anymore. I’m telling you, she is going to make trouble,” I heard Derik say.

  “Don’t worry, my friend. I will have her back to knowing who her master is in no time flat.”

  I walked quickly past the door and into the kitchen with Marta, the cook.

  “Can I get a cup of coffee?” I asked. My hair and makeup was done beautifully, and all I needed to do was pull on my dress. I didn’t want to go anywhere with Drew. I felt sick. Slave? Master? What did that mean? Why can’t I remember? I really need to remember. Something dreadful happened there. I could feel it.

  I tried to tell Drew that I didn’t feel well, and I should stay home, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He was making me go, and all of my nerve to tell him no had disappeared with the slave and master remark.

  I reluctantly went with him. Derik drove us, and I wondered what role he played in Drew’s business. He seemed to always be around. I stared out the window and jumped when Drew took my hand and smiled at me.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  No. I wasn’t okay.

  “I’m fine,” I smiled a weak smile.

  We had to stop at one of his stores on the way to the party, and that did seem familiar. I looked straight ahead in a daze as I took in the jewelry store.

  “I’ve been here before,” I stated, mostly to myself.

  Drew snorted. “You’ve been here a lot of times. Go pick out a new set of wedding rings,” he said looking down at the watch on his wrist. “We have to hurry.”

  “Where are the ones that I had?” I asked, not understanding.

  “They cut them off of you in the wreck.”

  “Oh,” that made sense.

  I didn’t care about the fancy diamonds, and picked the first set that my eyes landed on.

  There weren’t a lot of people at the party. I was glad of that. I did notice right away the man in the wheelchair. I couldn’t remember the name. He wheeled over to us with a smile. He took my hand and admired the wedding set.

  “How are you doing, Morgan?” he asked.

  “Better,” I lied. I wasn’t better at all, maybe physically, but certainly not emotionally or mentally.

  “Well, you look radiant,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  Derik’s wife joined us next. She was said to have been my best friend there. I didn’t think so. She didn’t seem like someone that I would be friends with, but I didn’t think a lot of things that seemed to be my life.

  “It’s so good to see you,” Jena said.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized.

  “Jena,” she offered. “I’m Derik’s wife,” she smiled.

  Poor girl.

  We were all led to a table and sat with the man in the wheelchair, his caretaker, Derik and Jena. I mostly listened to the conversation around the table. Everyone seemed fine with that except for the man in the wheelchair.

  Callaway, yeah that was his name.

  For some reason he was more concerned with my wellbeing than my husband was. He wanted to know what the doctor had said at my appointment that week. I wondered how he knew about that. I finally had to ask. I couldn’t take it a second longer. Drew choked on the wine that he had just put into his mouth.

  “How do we know each other?” I bluntly asked. I expected that he was going to tell me that he knew me through Drew.

  “Let’s just say that it has been a goal of mine ever since I found out about you, to make sure that you were always taken care of,” he smiled.

  I hadn’t even seen Drew get up. The next thing I knew he was by my side. He held out his hand for me.

  “Would you dance with me, Mrs. Kelley?” he asked.

  “I don’t think I know how to dance,” I admitted, already taking his hand.

  “I happen to know that you are a remarkable dancer,” he smiled. He could be so charming and yet turn into such a dick when I least expected.

  I could dance. How did I know how to waltz around the floor like that? I moved with Drew like we had done it a million times.

  “I take it we have done this before?” I asked as he spun me back into his arms.

  “Yes, you used to love to go out dancing.”

  “Drew.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Kelley?”

  “I’m not sure that I am okay with what happened last night.”

  Drew looked down at me as though he was clueless.

  “What do you mean,” he asked.

  “I just wasn’t expecting our first time to be like that.”

  He snickered and pulled me closer to him. “It wasn’t our first time, Morgan, and I was just trying to give you what you liked. You know? Hoping to jog your memory.”

  “I liked that?”

  “I do miss that a lot,” he admitted. “That was actually mild to what you normally like.”

  “It was?”

  Oh, God. I was some sort of sex freak.

  He laughed again. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll try to remember that you don’t remember what you like. How’s that.”

  “Maybe we should start by sleeping in the same bed together again,” I suggested. I could have sworn that I felt him tense.

  “I don’t think you are ready for that just yet.”

  Who the hell was he to tell me what I was ready for?

  I leaned in closer to his ear. “You don’t think that I am ready to sleep in your bed, but I was ready for you to stick your dick in my ass?”

  I know for a fact that he tensed that time.

  Drew pulled me from the dance floor and back to the table. He never let go of my hand as he spoke to the other guests around the table.

  “I think that we are going to call it a night. Morgan’s not feeling too well.”

  I pulled my hand from his. “Actually, I feel fine. I would love to try the pie,” I spoke up, sitting back beside Mr. Callaway.

  Mr. Callaway smiled and patted my hand. “That’s my girl. The pecan pie here is to die for. I think I’ll have one too,” he smiled.

  My girl? What did that mean? Drew took his seat in front of me and glared at me. I had just defied him in front of other people. I was sure that he wasn’t okay with that.

  Drew drove us home, and Derik left with his wife. I could tell that he was pissed. He wore a clinched jaw and his knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so tight.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked. I didn’t care. He was acting like some spoiled over grown child.

  “What’s wrong? What’s wrong? You just embarrassed the hell out of me in there, and you want to know what is wrong?”

  “And how the hell do you think I did that? You shouldn’t have lied and said I didn’t feel well. Did I always let you talk for me and decide what I wanted?”

  “Yeah, Morgan you did and when you didn’t listen, you would be punished once we were home. Maybe I need to show you how we do things around here,” he said through clinched teeth.

  That scared the hell out of me. Punish me? What the hell did that mean? I wasn’t backing down. I wasn’t about to let him think I was intimidated by him for one second.

  “Fuck you!” I yelled.

  He grabbed me by my hair. “You need to stop. I’m warning you, Morgan. You don’t want to do this.”

  I knew at that moment that he did hit me, and that vision of him backhanding me did happen. I had a feeling that it happened more often than not. I didn’t care. I wasn’t stopping.

  “Take your hands off of me. Now!” I demanded through the same gritted teeth.

  Drew let go. I was happy. I was no match for his muscular build, and I knew it. I also knew that I had to get away from him. I don’t know who I was before my accident or what I allowed to happen to me, but I knew that I wasn’t willing to let it happen again. I just didn’t know what I was supposed to do about it. Where would I go?

  I di
dn’t wait on him to open my door. I stormed into the house and right up to my own room.

  “Of course, no lock,” I said out loud to the empty suite.

  I took off the expensive dress, pulled the pins from my hair and pulled on my baggy flannel pants and simple white t-shirt. Drew didn’t bother me, and I was glad. I went to bed thinking about him telling me that I needed to be punished. I wondered what kind of sex life we had. I didn’t think that I liked it.

  I dozed off after taking one of the pain pills. I slept solid and sound. I was in a deep sleep when I woke hours later with tears in my eyes. I sat up trying to remember what I had dreamt. I couldn’t remember. The only thing that I had taken from my dream was the name Dawson. I didn’t know who he was, but I knew that my heart ached for him, and I missed him. I hadn’t heard the name Dawson at all. I wondered if Drew knew a Dawson. I decided not to ask him. Maybe he was someone that I had met in Florence. Maybe that was why I was there and not here with Drew.

  I lay awake for a long time, trying to remember something, anything. I didn’t care what it was. It’s unexplainable to wake up and not know who you are or where you came from. There were so many questions that nobody could answer for me. I had talked to the lady that cooked for us, but she said that she hadn’t been there that long, and didn’t know me pre-accident. Why did it seem like Drew and Derik were the only two people that I was acquainted with?

  I reached for the bottle of pills on my nightstand and took two of them. It was dark, and I didn’t look at them, but they did seem to feel different in my hand. I rolled them around my finger and almost turned the light on to see if they had been replaced with something else.

  Oh my God, Stop it, Morgan…

  I dry swallowed the pills and was quickly dozing back to a comatose state. I could have sworn that Drew was standing in my room. I could see his shadow or maybe it was the pills that I had just taken. I didn’t feel so good, and it felt like I was drifting down, down, down.

  “Don’t worry my little bad girl. You’ll be out in no time. You won’t remember any of this,” Drew said. I was sure that he said it. I think.