Underestimated Part 49

"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 pa.s.sed 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 h.e.l.l that I was putting Dawson through.

I retrieved the weed eater from the shed and started doing the tr.i.m.m.i.n.g 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 s.e.xy 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 h.e.l.l 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 circ.u.mventing 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 f.u.c.ked 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 a.s.sured 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 tongue, 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 d.a.m.n 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. n.o.body 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 gla.s.s.

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 gla.s.s. We had walked for quite a while, scavenging through the little rocks. He found a piece of shiny green gla.s.s 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 a.s.sured 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."

He pouted with a long face and threw it back to the sea as hard as he could.

I was beginning to lose hope when we searched our seventh pile of graveling sand. I saw the black gla.s.s.

My heart even started to pick up a few extra beats. I knew that the black gla.s.s was the rarest of all to find. I didn't want to point it out. I wanted him to find it. He was just too excited about it.

My sneaker tapped, nervously, waiting for him to see what I was seeing. Black gla.s.s was so hard to find because it looked so much like a normal pebble. This piece however showed the frosting from time and condition. I almost pointed it out when he picked it up and brushed his thumb across it.

"How about this?" he asked, looking up to me.

I feigned ignorance and took it from his hand.

"Yes. Do you have any idea what you just found?" I asked.

He stood, curious as I held it to the sun.

"What is it?" he asked.

I handed it back. "Hold it to the sun and you will see that it's not actually black at all."

"It's purple," he said. "Do you know what it's from?"

"My guess is an old medicine bottle, at least a hundred years old." I explained how they were made with iron slag. Because of no refrigeration back then, they made the bottles stronger and more resistant to shattering and the harsh conditions of centuries past kept its contents from going bad.

"I found a rare piece?" he asked with a boyish grin.

"The rarest," I a.s.sured him. "That piece may have even come all the way from Italy."

"Wow. Really?" he asked, looking at his treasure through the sun again.

"Yup," I smiled at his excitement.

"I'm going to have a necklace made out of it."

"Are we done hunting sea gla.s.s?" I asked. We had been there for almost three hours. I was hot and needed something to drink.

"Yeah, but I kind of wanted to climb that rock," he said, pointing to the peak, where the sea only let you cross at a certain time of the day.

"You're joking," I said, hoping that he was.

"No. Come on," he said, placing his new treasure safely in his pocket, pulling my hand.

"Drew, we can't climb that rock. One of us is going to get hurt."

"I'm a doctor," he said, ignoring me.

I didn't laugh. This was not just a little rock. This was a cliff. There was no way we were going to make it to the top without breaking our neck.

I complained the whole walk back, protesting his mission. He won.

Drew made me go first, and I slowly and carefully chose where to put my fingers and toes. This was ridiculous. This was the type of rock that you wore harnesses and had security ropes for when you fell. We were going to fall. I was sure of it. There was no doubt in my mind. Maybe that was the plan. If I fell to my death rock climbing with my husband, he would inherit all of my fortunes. I started to panic, wondering if I was climbing my way to my death.

"Morgan?" Drew said, grunting from behind me, pulling himself higher up the sea cliff.

"What," I answered, pulling myself up the complex elevation.

"Thank you for this. This has been the best couple days of my life."

Okay, maybe he wasn't planning on murdering me.

I smiled as I continued against my will to make my way to the top.

We finally made it, and my seldom used muscles quivered. Rock climbing was hard work. I couldn't believe it when we finally sat on the edge of the cliff. We were high, really high. Our feet dangled over the dangerous cliff. It was absolutely breathtaking.

"How are we getting down?" Drew asked with a laugh.

"We're not going down," I a.s.sured him. "We are going up." There was no way I was climbing back down.

He laughed. "Take your shorts off so that I can f.u.c.k you up here."

My first thought should have been no f.u.c.king way, but it wasn't. I looked around. There was absolutely no way anyone could see us up there, except maybe the sail boat, if they had binoculars.

"Drew?" I said in a question.

"What?" he mimicked my tone. "I will do all the work. You just get naked and lay back."

"You're serious?" I asked.

He unb.u.t.toned his jeans and removed his half-staff c.o.c.k. "Take your shorts off, Morgan," he demanded, stroking himself and letting me know that he was more than serious.

Of course I did just that. What the h.e.l.l else was I supposed to do? My v.a.g.i.n.a always seemed to be working against me.

I slid out of my shorts, hooking my panties with them and laid back. Drew stroked himself up my wet p.u.s.s.y a couple of times before sliding into me.

f.u.c.k...

The sound of the waves below us, the sea salt breeze and the heat from the sun while Drew made love to me on top of the world was something that I am sure I will never experience again for the rest of my life. Drew took his time and made slow pa.s.sionate love to me. He brought me to bliss not once but twice before he plunged deep into me, releasing himself.

He stayed inside of me for as long as I could stand the rock digging into my lower back.

"I love you, Morgan," he said, staring down at me.

"I love you too, Drew," I a.s.sured him. I did love him. I knew that I did. The problem was, I loved Dawson too. "You have to get up," I finally said.

"I don't want to," he admitted with a smile.

"I don't want you to either, but you see the thing is, I have this rock digging into my back and it hurts like h.e.l.l."

He laughed and slid out of me. I pulled on my shorts, and he pulled me to my feet. We walked on up the cliff, through the woods and a clearing that led to my road.