Underestimated (Underestimated, #1)

“You get off of that chair and help me clear this table. We are not leaving it for Marta,” I demanded. He listened. He made some sort of disapproving growling noise, but he got up and started carrying dishes to the kitchen. I smiled to myself.

Steady now, Morgan. Reel’em in slowly.

I rinsed and handed the dishes for Drew to deposit into the dishwasher. I wiped off the counter once we were done and turned to him staring as I dried my hands.

“I like you in jeans,” I said.

“You do?” he asked with a flirty grin.

“Yeah, I think you’re sexy as hell in jeans.”

He smiled a sexy smile and took a step toward me.

My heart fluttered at his closeness, my hands became clammy, and the emotional desirability was almost unbearable. I grasped his shirt in my hand and leaned into him. He fisted my hair and pulled my head back, forcing me to look at him as he hungrily took my mouth with his.

Whoa Vagina.

I turned my head, beckoning him to take my neck.

He did and ran his hand up my ribs and back. I thought I was going to faint. I needed to be lying down in a bed with my legs wrapped around his waist.

Before I knew what was happening I was naked, standing in the kitchen while his hands explored every part of my body except the one part that was begging for him to touch. He avoided that area as his hands discovered my body. It was a little strange, almost like he had never touched me before and he was trying to entrench my body in his mind.

Drew fiercely turned me and forced me onto the bar. It scared me. He had an aggressive demeanor going on that I wasn’t sure about. I quickly hid my fear and stopped him. I held his hands so that he couldn’t move them on me anymore. He looked up to me.

“Easy, Drew,” I whispered, and just like magic he went from hostile to gentle.

I never even asked. He spread me open in front of him on the bar and ran his tongue up my wet *. I dropped my head and moaned. I think he liked tasting me.

We never got the chance to try out the new toys, and once I was yelling out, and I mean yelling, he pulled me up and down his body. He took me on the kitchen floor, and it was the most glorious love making I had ever had in my life, not that I could really remember any other ones, but still.

“Was our sex life always this good?” I asked, running my nails down his back.

He rose up and looked down at me with a remorseful look. I didn’t understand it. I ran my fingers gently over his bottom lip.

“No. Morgan. It wasn’t always like this,” he softly spoke.

“How was it?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

I didn’t get one. He pulled out of me and lifted me to my feet.

“It doesn’t matter,” he demanded. He was distant.

He let go of my hand and gathered his clothing, leaving me staring after him, alone in the kitchen.

Well. Okay then.

I didn’t want him to leave me. I didn’t want to go to the room upstairs that left me feeling, feeling, I wasn’t sure what it was. I just got a bad sensation in that room, and I hated it. I wanted to go for a walk with him or maybe watch some television with him, and fall asleep in his arms. That wasn’t going to happen, and he had shut me out when he shut his bedroom door behind him.

It was still pretty early, not even nine thirty yet. I ran a tub of water and sank into it, trying to decipher the thoughts running through my mind. I knew I was being watched. I sensed it. I could see Drew sitting on his bed with his laptop staring at me. I didn’t care. I felt hurt, rejected and alone.

I didn’t put on one of the sexy nighties or stringy panties. I pulled on a comfortable t-shirt and a pair of plain cotton panties. I crawled into bed and was surprised at how tired I felt, emotionally drained, more like it. I rolled over to my side and pulled my hair out, sprawling it behind me on my pillow. I was emotionally drained and fell asleep in no time.

I was on a beach. It was cold, and I was dressed in jeans and a hoodie. I was laughing. I was with friends, and we were playing football. Somebody grabbed me around the waist and playfully tackled me to the sand. I loved him.

I felt it. I tried to see his face, but I never could. He kissed me and told me that he loved me. I squirmed away from him and yelled to the strawberry blonde girl to throw me the ball. I knew her. She was my friend. I woke straight up out of bed when I saw Drew there too. He hit me, and dragged me away from my friends and the man that I loved.

I was crying and breathing heavy when Drew was once again right there. He was watching me sleep, something that I was sure he did every night. I once again clung to him, but something was different. He did feel safe as he stroked my hair and calmed me down.

“Come on, come with me,” he finally said, taking my hand.

“Come with you where, Drew?”

“To my bed, maybe it will help with the nightmares.”

Jettie Woodruff's books