Underestimated u-1

by Jettie Woodruff

  “Drew?” I quietly spoke.

  “Hmm,” he murmured.

  “Where is your dad?”

  “I don’t know. I never knew him. He took off when my mother got pregnant.”

  “You know if your mother would have married my real dad, you would be my step brother.”

  Drew snorted. “I guess. I never thought about it, but they never married, so it’s not incest if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Where did you grow up?”

  “What’s with all the questions?”

  “I don’t know. I just feel like there is only one part of you that I really know.”

  “I grew up in Vegas. My mother worked for your dad. She ran the store on the strip, you know the one that I used to take you to when I wanted to pretend you were my wife for the night?”

  “Yeah, and then you would take the rings back after whatever function we were attending, take me home and…”

  “Stop it. Morgan,” Drew said with an angry tone, cutting me off. “I know what I did, and I don’t want you to remind me. Go to sleep.”

  I let it go at that. It was obvious that he wasn’t touching me, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted him to anymore. I waited until I knew for sure that Drew had fallen asleep and slid from beneath his arm.

  I quietly opened the door to the deck and walked out. I didn’t understand my life, I mean come on, this doesn’t happen. What the hell was I supposed to do with a multimillion dollar company? There are two things that I wished would have happened so that I wasn’t in the place that I was. I wished that I had never gotten on that plane and left my safe little life in Misty Bay. Then again, I wished I would have never remembered who I was.

  I thought about Dawson as I listened to the waves crashing below. I had been on the deck for at least twenty minutes. Drew was sound asleep. Dawson would have been out there by now. Did he really care more than Drew? I got my answer when I jumped as the door opened.

  “You okay?” Drew asked, taking my hand and pulling me to him as he leaned against the banister.

  “Yeah, just a lot on my mind,” I said as my arms mechanically went around his neck.

  “Anything I can do?” He asked, pulling me tight around the waist.

  “Not unless you can make up my mind for me.”

  “You’re in luck. I can do that. Choose me,” he teased, sort of.

  I smiled and kissed him. I took his hand and led him back to bed. He still didn’t touch me, and I was beginning to think that I would starve from lack of sex. I would have, had it been possible. He whispered that he loved me before dozing off again.

  “Drew.”

  “Hmm,” he moaned, with closed eyes.

  “Why are you not touching me?”

  He snickered. I already told you why. I want you to know that I want you without the sex.”

  “You want me without sex?”

  “No. I want the sex too. I want you to know that I love you, and it’s not just about sex.”

  “I believe you, but I still want sex, like now.” There I said it. I was either getting laid, or I wasn’t, but at least he knew that I wanted it.

  “What am I going to do with you,” Drew laughed.

  “You know exactly what you can do with me.”

  “If I do, will you promise me that you won’t have sex with Dawson?”

  Fuck…

  “Forget it Drew, just go to sleep,” I said, rolling away from him. He rolled with me.

  “I take that as no,” he rasped in my hair.

  I couldn’t help it. His cock was too close. I could feel it on my ass. I ignored his last statement and rubbed my ass against him.

  “I’m beginning to think that somebody needs their ass beat,” he softly spoke, licking my ear.

  Fuck yeah, that’s exactly what I needed. I did it again, egging him on. He rolled me over more so that I was flat on my stomach. He pushed the covers off, exposing my silk covered ass.

  “Do you want me to spank you, Morgan?”

  His sexy low tone had changed. He wasn’t playfully asking anymore. He was being serious. He really wanted to know if I wanted him to spank me. I was a fucked up excuse for a human being. I did want it.

  “Yes,” I said with closed eyes, feeling my pussy throb and my panties become moist.

  He slid my panties down and rubbed my backside as I waited for the first blow. I didn’t care how fucked up I was, and I didn’t care how society felt about our sexual cravings. I liked it. It turned me on like nothing else. I would worry about how I was supposed to be the next day. Right then all I cared about was getting Drew inside of me.

  The sting from Drew’s thick hand was instantly rubbed away.

  Jesus vagina, calm the hell down, I’m working on it.

  After the next sting, I raised my leg a little. Drew took the hint well, and once he had rubbed he soreness from the third blow he dipped his finger inside of me. I thought I was going to come off the bed.

  “You’re always so fucking wet, Morgan,” he huskily said, sinking his fingers again. I moaned. Shit, did I moan. I flipped my leg over him so that I was lying on my back. My hips arched into his fingers all on their own accord. I had nothing to do with it. It was all my backstabbing pussy. It had a mind of its own, and made my mouth say words that I never even thought about. Like.

  “Lick it.”

  Shit. Where the hell did that come from?

  “Spread your legs,” Drew replied to my outburst.

  I did.

  “More.”

  I did, and Holy Geez Louise. I was going to come. I was going to come fast. His tongue sliding up me was unbearable. He stopped a couple of times with his mouth but kept his fingers busy so that he could come to my mouth. His tongue would dive into my parted lips, forcing me to taste myself on him and then back to pleasing my core.

  Drew thrust his middle finger as deep as he could when I called out. No, when I yelled out. Two of his other fingers, I wasn’t sure which ones, penetrated my clit while another one penetrated my puckered nub in back. I knew that he could feel every last one of the convulsions from my wall contracting around his finger.

  “Are you good?” he asked once I was able to release the sheet, squeezed tightly in my two fists. I opened one eye to see the proud grin on his face.

  “No. I need you inside of me,” I assured him that I was not done. Not even close.

  “I need inside of your mouth,” he countered.

  “Then I suggest that you get out of those shorts.”

  He did. He lay back with his hands over his head. I took his steel rod into my hand, and then sank it balls deep into my throat. I devoured him. It had to be the most erotic blowjob in history. I know it was a bad time to be thinking about what was going on, but I did. I wondered if maybe I was more in lust with Drew then in love. He kind of ruined me in that department. I already knew how Dawson felt about my immoral, kinky shit. He would never in a million years spank me. It wasn’t normal, not that I didn’t enjoy making love to him. I did. It’s just, I don’t know. Sex with Drew was so intense, strong and powerful. It was the kind of sex that left you thinking about it for hours.

  “Sit on me, Morgan,” Drew demanded once he knew that he couldn’t handle another second of my torturous mouth.

  I slid onto him, and his head went back as his eyes closed with a moan. I slowly moved up and down on him, gradually picking up speed. I rocked my hips, frantically back and forth on his shaft, feeling myself reaching my peak once again. Drew waited until I was right there, and flipped me off of him, onto my stomach. He pulled my leg over his thigh, dipping his hardness into me a couple of times before pulling it out. I didn’t want him to remove himself. I wanted to come again. I needed to come again.

  “Can I?” he asked as I felt the tip of him penetrating my ass.

  “Yes,” I moaned. God yes.

  I squeezed my eyes closed, waiting for my body to relax and let him in.

  “Do you have any KY?” he asked.

>   “No. I don’t really need that here,” I admitted. Dawson would have never done what he was doing to me.

  I felt him move in a little more, and then a little more until my muscles had relaxed and he was easily taking me from behind. He rubbed my throbbing clit as he thrust in and out of me until we were both spent, moaning in loud, breathy, whimpers.

  “Now will you go to sleep?” Drew asked. I laughed. Okay, maybe I did love him for other than sex reasons.

  “I’m making coffee! Get your lazy bones out of bed,” I heard, opening my eyes.

  Shit. Lauren.

  I slid from under Drew’s arm and wrapped the robe hanging from my door around me. I quietly opened and closed the door and went to the kitchen.

  “Good morning, I thought for sure I would wake up to a police car in your driveway. He didn’t stay?”

  I sat on the barstool and ran my fingers through my hair.

  “No, Dawson didn’t stay, but,” I didn’t get it out when Drew opened my bedroom door wearing nothing but his jeans and walked toward the bathroom.

  He didn’t speak and only nodded.

  “Holy fuck, Ry. Who the hell is that?”

  “That would be Drew. He showed up here yesterday afternoon.”

  “You didn’t tell me he looked like that,” Lauren exclaimed.

  I snickered. Talk about awkward.

  Drew came out of the bathroom and started back toward the bedroom.

  “Come here. I want you to meet my best friend,” I called to him.

  “Can I get a shirt?” he asked.

  “You don’t have to,” Lauren giggled. He snickered and continued to get his shirt.

  “You idiot,” I scolded Lauren.

  “You can’t beat a girl for trying,” she smiled.

  “Lauren, this is Drew,” I said, introducing my husband who calls me Morgan to my friend who knew me by Riley.

  The three of us went out to the deck and had coffee. I was surprised at Lauren and Drew, hitting it off like they had. Then again, Lauren could make friends with the devil himself. She was just that bubbly. They were talking diamonds of all things. Lauren had traded a horse for a ring years before and wanted to know if he could tell her what it was worth, if anything. Of course he said yes, and she planned to bring it over later.

  Lauren left after about an hour, leaving Drew and I alone on the deck, overlooking the breathtaking, morning ocean.

  “It’s very tranquil here,” he said, looking out to the endless sea.

  “Yes, a lot more so than the desert,” I replied.

  “We don’t have to live there, Morgan,” he said with a serious expression.

  I snorted. “Where would we live?”

  “Where ever you want,” he assured me.

  I didn’t reply. I didn’t want to think about that at the time.

  “Do you want to mow or change the oil first?” I asked instead.

  “I’m pretty sure I have no clue how to do either,” he admitted.

  “You’re such a girl,” I teased.

  “Are you calling me a pussy again?

  I laughed. “Yes, but I was trying to be nice about it.”

  Chapter 21

  Drew and I dressed and walked out to the back yard to retrieve the mower. The yard really wasn’t that bad. Dawson had kept up on it throughout the summer. I primed the pump by pushing the little ball three times and had to explain to Drew why I did it.

  “Where’s the key?” He wanted to know. I couldn’t help it. I laughed, really laughed. He couldn’t be that domesticated. No man was that ignorant.

  “That’s it. We’re not friends anymore,” he determined and started walking away.

  “I’m sorry. Come back. I promise not to laugh at you for the rest of the day.”

  He wrapped his arm around my back and kissed me. “If you do, I am going to bend you over my knee and beat your sexy little ass,” he promised.

  Okay, maybe I would laugh at him again.

  “Pull the handle,” I explained, pointing to the T-handle cord.

  He pulled it gently and nothing happened. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing again.

  “You’re asking for it,” he warned.

  “Pull it like you mean it,” I coached, and held the handle to engage the blades. He did, it started right up. He grinned like he had just passed a milestone or something. I know most women would have been turned off by his lack of manly mechanic ability, but I wasn’t. I thought it was cute.

  “You’re ready,” I called over the loud motor. “Just go in straight rows, up and back,” I explained.

  I watched as he made his first swipe. He had the biggest smile as he turned and mowed the next strip toward me.

  “This is kind of fun,” he said, stopping to kiss me.

  “Pull back on the handle and lift the front wheels when you turn,” I told him, still wrapped in one of his arms.

  “Why?” he asked. That’s when I noticed Dawson parked across the road, standing by his cruiser with Lauren, both looking right at us.

  I self-consciously stepped away from Drew. “So that you get a clean straight line without the curves,” I explained. He didn’t catch my sudden retreat and did what I told him to do.

  I smiled over at Dawson. He sort of smiled back. He was hurt, and it was killing him to see me with Drew. Lauren just had a pitiful look. She didn’t like the hell that I was putting Dawson through.

  I retrieved the weed eater from the shed and started doing the trimming while Drew mowed my yard. I wanted to walk across the road and go to Dawson, but I couldn’t, not at the time. I wouldn’t know what to say anyway.

  Drew and I spent an hour on the yard, and then he helped me pull weeds from the flower bed, which surprised me. I was sure he had never in his life pulled a weed. I looked up to see Dawson backing out of Lauren’s driveway. He had his hand on his chin, staring right at me.

  Drew helped me carry the car ramps to the driveway next. I really didn’t need them and wouldn’t have even bothered had he been a little more mechanically inclined. I placed the ramps in front of both tires. He was afraid of running over them, so I had to pull the car up.

  “I cannot believe that I am lying under a car in the gravel,” he said.

  Our heads were side by side, and our feet hung out the front of the car. I thought it was extremely sexy for some reason.

  “What do we do now?” he asked, moving his lips to mine. He must have thought that it was pretty hot too. He kissed me for at least three minutes.

  “Are we changing the oil or are we going to get it on?” I asked, ready to say the hell with the oil.

  He smiled on my lips. “I’m changing the oil. Tell me what to do.”

  “This is the drain plug,” I pointed. “You have to take it out and let the old oil drain into the pan.” I had to tell him to back up before he got a face full of oil.

  We stood by the car and waited for it to drain.

  “Your friend left,” he said, looking over to Lauren’s.

  “You noticed that?”

  “Yes. I noticed, and I don’t like the way he looks at you,” he admitted.

  “Will you buy me a new car so that I can drive to find my mother?” I asked, totally circumventing his comment.

  He laughed. “No. I would rather you fly. I will get you a private flight.”

  “I don’t want to fly. I want to drive. I drove all the way from Vegas to here in this car,” I explained. I did want to drive. I wanted the alone time to think, and try to figure out what road I should take in my fucked up life.

  “I don’t like it, but, you don’t need me to buy you a car. You have enough money to buy every car on the lot. I will go with you though. I’m definitely not letting you drive this thing.”

  “This has been the best car I have ever owned,” I assured him.

  He laughed again. “How many cars have you owned, Mrs. Kelley?” he asked with a kiss.

  I didn’t answer. It didn’t need an answer. It only needed my ton
gue, dancing with his.

  “I never imagined an oil change could make me wet,” I said to his lips.

  He took a step back. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

  I laughed. “Why?”

  “Because it makes me want to slide my fingers inside of those skimpy little shorts, and find out for myself.”

  “Jesus, Drew. You can’t say stuff like that,” I demanded, using the same words.

  He smiled. “Okay, that’s enough foreplay. Let’s get back to the oil change. What do I do now?”

  I took the wrench for the filter and explained that we had to change the filter. He got it off, and was damn proud of himself for the small task of removing the old and securing the new filter. He backed the car off of the ramps, and I showed him where to add the new oil. He closed the hood, and we put the ramps away.

  “Now can we go look for more of those jewels?” he asked.

  “I’m kind of hungry. Can we eat first?”

  “I guess so,” he whined.

  We ate toasted cheese sandwiches with a jar of Starlight’s homemade tomato soup. Nobody made tomato soup like Starlight. It was the best soup in the world, and I am not exaggerating when I say that either.

  Drew and I walked down the rocky path toward the beach. I really hoped that he found a piece of sea glass. He was really excited about it, although I wasn’t too optimistic that he would. It didn’t get washed up very often.

  I told him everything that John had told me about looking for it. We squatted at a gravel pile and carefully moved rocks looking for the dull glass. We had walked for quite a while, scavenging through the little rocks. He found a piece of shiny green glass with sharp edges. He was super excited. I hated to burst his bubble, but I had to.

  “Yes!” he exclaimed wiping the dirt and grime away with sea water.

  “That’s junk Drew,” I explained. “Throw it back and maybe someday it won’t be.”

  “What do you mean is junk? It’s pretty,” he assured me.

  “It’s nothing but a broken bottle. It hasn’t been ground or polished by sand and rock, and it doesn’t have any erosion form the salt water.”