As soon as I heard the door close I grabbed my phone.
“What is your fucking problem?” I asked, angrily as soon as I heard Drew’s voice.
“I can’t sleep,” he replied. I laughed. What else was there to do? It was funny. It was a funny sick fucking joke.
“Why?” I asked, pulling on my panties and a nightshirt.
“Because I haven’t talked to you today. I need to hear your voice. Were you in bed already? Why didn’t you answer?”
“Which of the ten times are you referring to?” I asked, eluding the question.
“All of them. Is he there?”
“No. Drew, he’s not here. You ran him off.”
“Good. Did I run him off in time?”
“You’re such a dick.”
“And you are avoiding my questions. Did you sleep with him?” he asked, bluntly.
“No. Drew. I did not, thanks to you. Now I am going to have to take care of it myself.”
“You know there was a time that I would have spanked you for that.”
Are you serious? Stupid fucking vagina.
I didn’t reply. I couldn’t reply. I wanted him there doing just that. What the hell was wrong with me?
“You want that, don’t you, Morgan?” he asked in that dominating tone. I have no idea what was conspiring in me, but my core throbbed like mad at the tone of his voice.
“Yes,” I rasped a breathy reply.
“Come for me, baby.”
My fingers had already found their way through the elastic of my panties, and I let the stupid bastard talk me through one hell of an orgasm. It was settled. I was surely losing my mind. I should have been put into a straitjacket and locked up.
Chapter 20
I called Dawson the next day and apologized again. I invited him over for supper and of course he accepted. That was just how Dawson was. He wasn’t going to make me feel bad for my issues, and I loved him for that.
I had my salad chilling in the refrigerator. I had gone into town earlier to buy fresh vegetables from the local fruit market. My homemade spaghetti sauce was simmering on the stove, and I had just gotten a shower. I did my hair, makeup and spritzed just a dab of perfume. I pulled on my nice fitting jeans and wore a white, v neck shirt that showed my midriff. I looked hot, I decided, looking into the mirror behind my bedroom door. I smiled a big smile when I heard the knock. I was determined to have a good night with Dawson, and keep Drew in Las Vegas where he belonged.
Holy fuck…
He too was wearing nice fitting jeans that hung low on his hips, a tight knit shirt with the sexy as hell pecks peeking out from the three unbuttoned buttons on his chest. The only problem was, it wasn’t Dawson. Drew stood at my door with a sexy smile and a dozen red roses.
Shit…
I was speechless. Dawson was going to be there any second. What the hell was he doing here?
“Drew?” was all that I could manage to get out in my shocked state. I looked over him toward the road searching for Dawson’s police cruiser that would be in my drive at any time.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said, holding out the flowers.
I took them and ushered him inside not wanting Dawson to see him on my porch, not that he wasn’t going pass the fancy black car backing out of my drive.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, not leaving the door. I had to intercept Dawson.
“Is that any way to greet your husband?” he asked, and had me in his arms in a split second.
Son of a bitch…
“You could have warned me. I have company coming for supper.”
“Do you want me to leave,” he asked, kissing my forehead. Did I?
I didn’t have time to answer his nor my question when I heard the car pulling into the gravel drive.
“If I told you not to leave this house, would you listen?” I asked, shoving the roses back into his arms.
Dawson saw me coming and slid his hands into his jean pockets as he leaned against his car. I heard the door behind me open and close. “Of course not,” I said turning to Drew on the porch.
“I guess I’m eating at Millie’s tonight,” Dawson said with a defeated smile.
“I’m sorry, Daw. I didn’t know he was going to show up here.”
“I’m fighting a losing battle here, Ry,” he stated, looking down at me.
“No, you’re not. I just need some time, Dawson.
Don’t give up on us just yet, please,” I begged. I didn’t want to lose Dawson. Why couldn’t I just have him for everyday life and Drew at bedtime?”
Dawson leaned in and kissed the same spot that Drew had just kissed on my head. “Call me later and let me know that you’re okay,” he said.
“He’s not going to hurt me, Dawson,” I assured him.
“Call me,” he demanded and got in his car and backed out.
“Your audacity is ridiculous,” I called to Drew, leaned against the post with his arms crossed. I swear he had sex appeal dripping off of his contoured body.
“What? I had to see what I was up against,” he pleaded his case.
“What do you want?” I asked, taking the stones beneath my bare feet a little easier than I had when I walked out.