“I love you so much, Mrs. Kelley,” I whispered to her lips. I didn’t do any of the things that I thought about doing. All the thoughts that kept my dick hard all day were gone when my cock slid up her wet pussy. No guidance was needed. Morgan shifted her hips into mine and wrapped her legs around my back. My cock slid right in. I was glad Morgan didn’t want to do things my way. I knew then what she meant. We did need this. We did need to reconnect, forget real life, and just be us. I guess I needed this more than I needed to be the boss.
Everything we did was an emotional roller coaster. The expressions Morgan made while my hands wandered down her neck, her breast, and her ribs were overzealous, like my hands were literally burning her skin. My lips sucked on her neck and the space just above her ear. Her body shivered below me when I whispered that I loved her. The pain of her nails digging into my back was as erotic as the purrs she moaned in my ear. I moved both my hands under her ass and shoved my cock in as far as it would go, forcing her hips into mine.
Neither one of us wanted to come. Morgan always came within two minutes and I could tell that she was fighting it as much as I was. We made love for as long as I think we ever had before, both needing something from each other.
“You’ve got to come, love,” I warned.
“I don’t want to. I don’t want it to end.” I didn’t want it to end, either, but her moans, her thrashing body beneath me, and the way her pussy contracted around my cock was more than I could control. This was happening. I moved my thumb between us and circled her clit hard, ramming it into her with every thrust of my cock. Her back arched, her head tilted with her eyes, and her arms fell to her sides. After four quick pumps, I dove deep inside her and stiffened while my load filled her pussy. Fuck…
“Good morning. Do you want to have a holiday fling with me?” Drew asked, kissing me on the neck.
I turned from my SpongeBob pancake and frowned at him with a smile. “Good morning. Sure,” I cautioned. “Put some pants on, Nicole is on her way over here.”
“Where are my pants? Why is she coming here? We’ve got to be at the barn at ten anyway.”
“You mean the pants in your closet? What kind of question is that? A holiday fling?”
This really had nothing to do with anything but me. I wasn’t accepting help from Nicole because of anything to do with Drew, my marriage, or whether or not we were going to make it. It had to do with me, and what I had done the last time I met Blain for it. I would never tell Drew that. He would divorce me and I wouldn’t blame him. Nobody needed to know that part. I was ashamed enough.
“You need another shirt,” Drew said, walking away in blue tight boxer briefs. Hmm. Damn.
“Why?” I asked, looking down for a stain.
Drew turned and touched his neck. “There’s a little something on your neck.”
“Drew, I’ll kill you,” I exclaimed, going to the little half bath off the kitchen. Sure enough, there it was, a nice size strawberry hickey. Ugh.
Nicole couldn’t have come a second sooner. Little things that never bothered me before made me want to pull my hair out now. Tadpole wiped his sticky fingers down his pajama shirt and I snapped at him. Who cared? I was going to change him anyway. Nicolas took Dasher outside without a coat after I just told him not to, and Drew left his stupid shavings all over the sink—again!
“It’s not going to do any good like this,” I whined to Nicole.
“Sorry, no more dollar bills up your nose. You signed a release form. I’m making the rules. Take it or leave it,” Nicole offered, handing me the one pill. The one pill I was supposed to swallow with water and wait for ten minutes to feel half the effect. I changed my mind at that moment. I didn’t like her so much after all.
On the contrary, I did have a very good day. I was proud of Drew for how involved he was with all of this. I understood why when I sat through the workshop with Drew in some cold community center. This was why Drew was so adamant about the school. This place was cold, dark, and not very welcoming at all. I was skeptical about the whole thing. How could a man that couldn’t look you in the eye teach a class?
John was one of those awe people you meet once in a life time. He was just so different than anyone I’d ever met in my life and John was an amazing teacher. I learned more in those two hours than I learned on all the research I’d done online. John was extremely funny. Because of his expressionless face and his monotone voice, it took me a couple times to get his humor. I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. I laughed when the rest of the group laughed.
“I was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome in nineteen eighty four. Nineteen eighty four is an interesting year because it’s five years before nineteen ninety,” John explained to the small group. They all laughed, including Drew. What? That was meant to be funny? “Nineteen ninety is the year I like to call the Autism baby boom,” he explained, giving us the scoop on autism history. I listened closely to this man telling about the rise in autism in the late nineties.
John described his beliefs on what he thought caused the surge. Preservatives in processed foods, something that happened during pregnancy, the environment, and maybe even genetics. I felt Drew’s body tense beside me and without even looking, I knew he was blaming himself again. I dropped my hand over his lap and held the tips of his fingers. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.
“Autism is a disorder where you think differently, you act differently, you feel differently, you behave differently, and your body is made differently. And because of those differences, you struggle in everyday life. I’m a true believer that many forms of autism can be treated with the right developmental training. I’m going to teach you how to teach your child to cope with the things that make him different,” John went on in the same dramatic, very clear, descriptive tone. It never changed. No emotion whatsoever.
We left to join the boys two hours later. Nicole and Stacy were making us do some sort of stocking decorating as a group. It was nearly two in the afternoon and I wasn’t feeling the festivities of Christmasville.
Nicole was just placing the red socks in front of the nine kids when we entered with John. She knew as soon as she saw me. She winked at me and continued with her stupid tradition. It wasn’t until after the pill that I finally enjoyed myself and the decorating with messy glitter and glue. Tadpole was overzealous about the presents he was going to get in his stocking. Nicholas really didn’t care about it, he was busy teaching Kim Kardashian to sit. And then he decided the dog needed one, too. He got excited about decorating that one. Boys…
“Now go home and put it buy your tree, it’s beautiful,” Nicole said, squatting a couple feet from Nicholas. Did she do that because she knew he didn’t like to be close to anyone but Drew and me? It was like she talked to him like Drew and I did, how we’d learned throughout the years that we had to be at his level to get his attention. It had nothing to do with him being a disrespectful little brat. He really couldn’t help it.
“We don’t have a tree,” Nicholas said, shifting his eyes quickly from hers.
“Where is your tree? This is December already,” Nicole asked unbelieving.
“Drew did you see the tree from the movers?” I asked. I guess I never really thought about it. Our tree was always gorgeous, but not because we decorated it. We had someone to handle that part.
“Please don’t tell me you have a plastic tree,” Stacy frowned, cocking her hip one way and her head the other.
“Yes, it’s a beautiful white tree with fiber optic lights,” I explained. It was beautiful. I loved that tree.
“Drew, you take her over to Esker’s as soon as you leave here and you get a tree. A real tree,” Stacy ordered. Oh, hell no. I wasn’t putting a real tree in the house with messy sap and pine needles. I already had a dog I didn’t want. “He’s set up in the parking lot of the grocery store. I suggest you get out to his tree farm next year and tag your own.”
“Maybe we will next year. This year we have one, right D
rew?”
“I’ll look in the garage. I don’t remember seeing it.”
“I want a real tree like that,” Nicholas informed, sitting next to me and wiping blue glitter down his shirt. I was going to be so sick of Christmas by the time this was over. I could feel it in my bones. Center Station took the Christmas thing a little too serious. Murdering a live tree didn’t seem like the family thing to do to me.
“We’ll see,” I said to shut him up.
“It’s in a bucket, then we can plant it in the dirt,” Nicholas explained, patting his gluing project with his hand. I hated glitter.
Needless to say, we were buying a Christmas tree two hours later. The next day we made ornaments, the next day after that we made popcorn garland. The day after that we had our workshop with John and then made gingerbread man ornaments. We opened our contest paraphernalia and planned our tree-decorating tactic. I mostly listened while my competitive husband and Nicholas decided how our hour time limit needed to be spent.
“Come on Tadpole. Let’s go make some dinner,” I coaxed. He was over it, too. I caught him midair when he flipped over the couch like a sumo wrestler. How he even knew what that was, was beyond me. It wasn’t like he had free access to YouTube, but he picked things up pretty quickly. And I swear the kid didn’t forget anything, especially bad words.
The week was good, I was happy for the most part. It wasn’t that. It was the vitamins and all the juice I had to consume. I was sick of high protein and green leafy vegetables, and I was irritable. I just wanted to do one line and I hated Drew for giving what he had to Nicole. I didn’t care if she was a licensed drug counselor, she sucked and this pushing back every day an hour was bullshit.
I placed a couple chicken breasts in pan of water and snarled my nose at the fish. “Watch this pan so that it doesn’t boil over, Drew. I’m going to bathe Tad. “Nicky, your dog doesn’t have any water,” I added, following Tadpole and the dinosaur up the stairs. We were climbing a tree to a waterfall. I swear that boy’s imagination never stopped.
“I’ll be right back, buddy,” I said, shutting the water off with my trembling hands.
I stepped right around the corner and slid down the wall. My hands covered my face and I tried the breathing technique Nicole taught me. Nothing was working. I just needed it to stop.
“Baby?” Drew, questioned, placing his hand on my knee and squatting to my level. “What’s wrong?”
“I need a fucking line. That’s what’s wrong.”
“What can I do? Do you want a glass of juice?”
“Yeah, Drew. That’ll do it. You’re supposed to be watching my chicken.”
“I’ll take care of the boys. Go soak in your tub,” Drew coaxed, pulling me to my feet. He stopped me and held my hands. “You’re okay, you’ve got this,” he quietly spoke to my lips. “I’ve got Tad, you can go.”
I turned and walked down the hall to our room. Pacing back and forth a couple times, I tried like hell to get a grip on things. It was so strong. I didn’t want anything out of life at that moment, nothing but the high feeling I needed. Fuck. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t handle it. Not like this. She wasn’t doing it right. Nicole didn’t know how to do this. I needed medications or something.
In a state of panic, I opened the closet and tossed boxes. Finding the one marked Morgan’s purses, I searched through every one. Come on. Come on. There had to be one. I started on the bathroom next. I hid them in different places, there had to be one. Just one. That’s all I needed. I flipped the medicine cabinet, searching for anything that would take it away.
“Morgan?” Drew said from the door, interrupting the only task that needed done. The only one that mattered.
“Leave me alone,” I demanded without a glance. There had to be a fucking pill in this goddamn house.
“Morgan,” he coaxed, walking behind me. I jerked away when he tried to hold my arms from behind.
“Don’t fucking touch me. You can’t leave Tad alone in the tub. Leave me alone.”
“He’s watching cartoons downstairs. What can I do to help? Let me be here for you, baby.”
“You can get me the fuck out of this stupid fucking Hallmark movie!” I screamed angrily. “You think dragging me to the coldest fucking place on the planet where I have to deal with snow is going to help anything? I don’t want to decorate a fucking Christmas tree. I don’t want to sew popcorn into garland. I hate this fucking place and I hate these fucking people.
“You’re so fucking stupid, Drew. You have no clue, you think bringing us here to fucking Mayberry Christmas with some idiot that thinks he knows how to handle my child is going to fix anything? You can’t fucking fix anything. It’s too fucking broken.”
I yelled, feeling so much anger toward Drew. Everything that I held inside me all these months came boiling to the surface and I shot him with real bullets, wounding him with every hit. Drew didn’t say a word. He stood back with both hands in the air while I trashed the bathroom.
“Mommy?” Nicholas questioned frightened from the door, holding that stupid dog. He was scared and I hated the terrified look I put in his eyes. I couldn’t help it. It was so strong, I had no filter.
“Get out,” I quietly said to Drew. I didn’t need a fucking babysitter. If Drew wouldn’t have been so stupid, he would know to go take care of Nicholas, not me. It was his fault Nicholas was witnessing this. The change in my demeanor didn’t come from me acting like a wife and a mother. It came from the spotting of the little pill tucked away in the corner inside a pocket of my Tory Burch hand bag.
I’m not really sure what happened after that. The only thing I could see was Nicholas. He was watching everything unfold. Even if I don’t remember it, I know he watched the whole show. I remember Drew trying to take the purse from me, I remember jerking it away from him, and I remember hearing the glass shatter. That’s it. I didn’t remember anything after that.
The next thing I remembered after crashing through the fancy glass shower door was being restrained. I tried to move my arms, but the cuffs around my wrists wouldn’t let me. I tried to move my legs and got the same result. My ankles were held down by restraints pinning me to the bed. What the hell was going on?
“You’re okay, I’m right here, love,” the familiar voice of Drew spoke beside me. I started crying for whatever reason. Like I knew this was it. This was the rock bottom I’d heard talk of throughout my life. I felt like a destitute when Drew wrapped my restrained body in his arms. I couldn’t even hug him back. I was stuck to the bed. That’s when I noticed the bandages up both my arms. Jesus what the hell happened?
Oh my god! Nicky!
“Drew! Where’s Nicky?” The thought of my scared son watching me lose every marble I had flooded my mind. What have I done?
“He’s okay. Nicole came to the house. They were going to make Christmas cookies,” Drew smiled lightheartedly, trying to make me feel better. It didn’t work. I failed at life, I failed at being a mother, and I failed Drew.
“I want to go to him. I need to go to him, Drew,” I begged, feeling the cuts on my right arm when I tried to move.
“No, not right now. He’s fine, I promise. Let’s just get you better first.”
“I’m not staying here. I can’t stay here. Where am I?”
“In the hospital, they’re going to keep you here for a few days. They’re more equipped here to help you deal with your withdrawals.”
“I’m not staying here, Drew. I have to go home with the boys. I’ve never spent a night away from them. I’m not staying here. Why am I tied to the bed? Get these off of me,” I complained, working against the restraints. I couldn’t move.
“They were only trying to keep you from hurting yourself or anyone else. You’re okay, the doctor will be in shortly. You kicked one of the paramedics in the face and one in the chest.”
“I came here in a squad?” Jesus, what the hell did I do? “Oh my god, Drew. Nicky. Nicky was there,” I exclaimed again. The realization hit me over
and over. Fuck.
“He’s fine,” Drew promised. Why I picked that moment to see Drew, I’m not sure. Drew looked older. Fine lines appeared in the corner of his worried eyes and faint lines crossed his forehead. We both turned to a female doctor with a bright smile. I wondered if Drew did that for me. I never used male doctors. I’ve never told Drew, but it went clear back to the day we married. The vision of Drew spreading my virgin legs for the doctor to make sure I was a virgin was still very vivid.
I could replay every single second—
I was a child, eighteen years old to the day. “This nice man is going to examine you a little, Morgan,” my dad explained.
Examine me? What the fuck?
Drew closed the door behind him when my dad stepped out.
“I need you to undress from the waist down,” the man said, and just like that, I was in instant panic mode. I wasn’t about to take my jeans off in front of either one of them, let alone let him touch me.
My eyes shot to Drew, standing there in his fancy suit and tie, smirking.
“Why?” I managed to ask.
“We just want to make sure that you’re not damaged.”
“I’m not,” I all but yelled.
“Take your pants off, Morgan,” Drew said with dark eyes that scared the hell out of me.
I didn’t know what to do, knowing it was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not.
After not moving and staring at the two of them in shock, Drew finally squatted to my face, placing both of his hands on my knees. “We have a plane waiting on us, Morgan.” He smiled.
“I don’t want to go with you,” I claimed.
Drew grabbed both my ankles and pulled me flat on my back. I could only stare in total shock, scared to death. He unbuttoned my jeans and slid them off with my panties in one swift move. I crossed my ankles and covered myself with my hands.
“Spread your legs, Morgan,” Drew spoke while the doctor, or whatever he was, removed a light and some sort of silver tool.
An Underestimated Christmas (Underestimated 3) Page 22
