Underestimated (Underestimated, #1)

I bucked my hips and ran my own fingers between my folds, beckoning him to do as he was told. He moved in and licked me once, almost like he wasn’t sure what to do. I took his hair in my hand and kept his head there while he stroked me with his tongue.

“Hmm, yes Drew,” I moaned. It must have been turning him on, and my plan, whatever that was, was working. I came as soon as he inserted two fingers into me. I came hard and clinched his hair in my fist. As soon as I was coherent enough to regulate my breathing I moved him to his back and released his erection into my hand. He still couldn’t speak. I bent to his lips and moaned as I inserted my tongue into his mouth, tasting myself on his lips. He raised his hips and helped me slide him out of his clothes. I ran my hands up his strong pecks as I slid him into me. I rode him hard, as fast and hard as I could. As soon as I called out in agonizing pleasure, he thrust deep, holding my hips into him. He came just as hard. I could feel him convulsing beneath me.

I smiled down to him as he dropped back to the bed. I moved his hand from my hip and kissed his fingertips before removing myself.

“I’m going to shower. I’ll be down to eat with you in a little bit.” I left him lying on my bed staring after me I was sure. I knew, had I turned around he would have been wearing that dazed, confused look that he had when I demanded that he go down on me.

I showered, and while I was rinsing the soap from my hair, I knew that I could see the camera lens around the ring of the shower head. I didn’t stare at it and pretended not to see it. I showered as normal, wrapped myself in a towel and walked out to my room to dress. I opened the closet and pulled a pair of jeans and a knit shirt from the closet. I knew Drew hated me not wearing the designer clothes right at my fingertips. I loved to defy his wishes. I even went a step further and omitted the socks.

I walked down to where he was waiting and smiled with narrowed eyes in a flirtatious manner. I brushed my hands across his broad shoulders and let my fingers dance in the back of his hair before taking my seat beside him.

“What’s gotten into you, and where are your socks?” he asked from the head of the table.

“I didn’t want socks, and what do you mean, what has gotten into me? I don’t remember so if I am acting in a different way than I normally did, you have to tell me what I am doing wrong. I’m just trying to make sense of everything and be your wife. Did I do something wrong?”

I asked, feeding him right out of my hand.

“No, you’ve just never been the um,” he stopped, trying to think of the word, “aggressive, you have never been the aggressive type before.”

I leaned in for a kiss. He hesitated but leaned in and kissed me. “I think I might like being aggressive,” I smiled as Marta brought our food. I wanted to keep him talking. I just didn’t know what to talk about. I didn’t want to ask about anything that would throw up any of his defenses. I was determined to bring him down a few levels. Why? I wasn’t sure yet, but I was working on it.

We ate our salads in silence, looking at each other every now and then. I decided to go for the pity party.

“Drew,” I quietly said his name.

“Hmm?” he replied with food in his mouth, looking over to me.

“What if I never remember? What if I never remember the day we met, or our wedding day, what if I never remember how much we mean to each other?”

“I think you will. Don’t worry about that. I think you are trying too hard. Just let it come on its own.”

“You said that we have been married for almost eight years.”

“Yes. We will be married eight years in June.

Why?”

“June what?” I asked. I really did want to know that.

“June 4th.”

“My birthday is June 4th. That means that we got married the day that I turned eighteen, right?”

He smiled a nervous smile and nodded.

“Where did we meet?”

“I came to your school when you were seventeen and did a seminar on success and donated some money.

You were the prettiest girl in that school,” he smiled. “I told you then that I was going to marry you. I would sneak back there, and we would spend weekends together and as soon as you graduated and turned eighteen I came and took you away.”

“We got married the same day?”

“Yes, but that was all your idea. I had nothing to do with that. I think you wanted to make sure that no one else claimed me.”

“How old are you?” I kept the conversation going.

Some of it I wanted to know and some of it were irrelevant.

“31, what’s with all the questions?”

I took a deep breath and pushed my half eaten salad away. “I don’t know. You just have no idea what it’s like, not to know who you are or where you came from. I remember some things but don’t know why I remember them.

“Like what?” Drew wanted to know.

“Like my birthday. I know when I was born, but not when I got married. I remember books that I have read and songs. You said that I would have never been caught dead dressed like this. Did my personality change too?”

“Your personality did change from what I remember too.”

Jettie Woodruff's books