Underestimated Part 57

I stood and leaned against the corner of his desk with my arms crossed.

"If you tell me that you are going to stay right here with me, you never have to worry about another woman,"

he promised, looking up to me.

"I don't want you with other women if I don't stay," I a.s.sured him.

"And you think I want you to be with Dawson?"

Okay, he had a point.

"I have no reason to ever cheat on you, Morgan. I love you that much, and you are the hottest little thing that I have ever had between the sheets."

"You're just saying that because of our f.u.c.ked up s.e.x life. Any other woman would run away, screaming."

He picked up my leg and moved my foot between his legs. He ran his hand up my calf and straight to my already throbbing p.u.s.s.y. "I love our f.u.c.ked up s.e.x life,"

he said as his finger dipped inside of me.

f.u.c.king h.e.l.l.

I dropped my foot just as quick as he removed his hand from under my dress when Celeste cleared her throat from the door.

"Sorry to interrupt, Marta let me in," she said with her face as red as mine. She knew what she saw as well as I knew what I felt. That was twice in one day that we had been caught.

"I'm going to talk to Marta. I'll see you later," I told Drew, leaving him to his business. "Leave the door open," I whispered, kissing him just in front of his ear. I didn't look at Celeste as I walked out. I couldn't. I was too embarra.s.sed.

I visited with Marta in the kitchen for a while, and then went to my old room for a needed shower. I thought about talking to Drew about being pregnant, but decided to wait until after the funeral the next day. I wasn't even sure that I really was pregnant. The test said that I wasn't, and I guessed that the morning sickness could have been just a bug or something.

Drew and I ate the evening meal that Marta prepared for us before leaving for the day. We sat at the table and talked. He asked me more about my stay in North Carolina and I talked about Caroline a lot. I did love her like a sister and missed the little s.h.i.t already.

"Morgan, there is a good possibility that Justin will be at the funeral tomorrow," Drew informed me. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. I mean I would be ecstatic if I did get to see him. I wondered if he would even recognize me. He was barely five the last time I saw him. I tried to remember when I was five. I remembered bits and pieces, like kindergarten, and my pet chicken that my dad had killed for supper. I wasn't sure if I would remember someone from when I was five. I barely recognized my cousin Bobby.

Drew and I went to bed pretty early. Of course we didn't go right to sleep, and had the most amazing f.u.c.ked up s.e.x ever. It consisted of the whole nine yards.

Spankings, oral, a.n.a.l, and I had even let him talk me into using one toy that I absolutely hated, the one that sent an electrical current to my c.l.i.t, causing an immediate o.r.g.a.s.m right before it stopped. It wasn't as bad as I had remembered. At least I knew that I would come, eventually.

Chapter 24.

The next morning, Drew and I had another round of s.e.x. No. It wasn't s.e.x at all. He made slow pa.s.sionate love to me while exploring my soul with his penetrating gaze into my eyes. It was great, unbelievable, and right on target with what I needed at the time.

I sat up, deciding whether or not I felt sick. I didn't. I pulled on a shirt and slid into my panties. As soon as my feet were planted on the plush carpet, I felt it and ran to the bathroom with my hand over my mouth.

f.u.c.king, son of a b.i.t.c.h.

I turned to look at Drew between my bouts of heaving into the toilet. He was staring at me with a bewildered look. He knew.

I looked at him through the mirror as I brushed away the nasty taste in my mouth. The tooth paste smell almost had me running back to the toilet. Drew never spoke. I swear he was in shock. I couldn't help it at the time. He didn't have to speak. I had to lie back down.

I brushed past him and sprawled across the bed with a groan.

"Morgan?" he questioned, sitting on the bed with me.

"Yes, Drew. I am pretty sure I am."

"Is it mine, Morgan?" he asked.

f.u.c.king, s.h.i.t...s.h.i.t...s.h.i.t...

"I don't know," I told him honestly.

He stood and paced the bedroom, running his fingers through his hair.

"I f.u.c.king knew it," he yelled.

Great...

"What did you know, Drew?" I asked, exasperated, already.

"I knew you f.u.c.ked him. You don't f.u.c.king care anymore about me now than you did before you ever left here."

d.a.m.n, he was p.i.s.sed. I sat up. I was on the verge of being p.i.s.sed myself.

"Really, Drew? You're going to go there?"

"Where the f.u.c.k would you like for me to go, Morgan?"

"To h.e.l.l right now," I yelled. "What the h.e.l.l, Drew? You don't get that right. You f.u.c.king raped me, beat the h.e.l.l out of me, humiliated me, and I be G.o.d d.a.m.ned if you are going to stand here and f.u.c.king judge me for falling in love with another man. f.u.c.k you!" I screamed.

Drew grabbed me by both of my arms.

"I have f.u.c.king apologized for the things that I did ten times over. I have been trying everything that I know to do, to make you realize how much I f.u.c.king love you. You don't have the right. You throw that s.h.i.t up to me every time you get p.i.s.sed off."

"I'm scared, Drew," I spit out. He had a cold dark glaze in his eyes. I was scared. I wanted him to let me go, and stop screaming in my face.

He let me go, and stormed out. He locked himself in his office until it was time to go.

We were both dressed in black and rode the backseat in total silence. He stared out the window, resting his chin on his fist. I didn't say a word. I didn't know what to say. I could understand him being upset, and I was trying to be mature about it and not just say f.u.c.k it and run away back to my mom's.

I walked to the coffin with my hand in Drew's. Mr.

Callaway looked good. I thought his face looked a little sunken in, but overall he looked to be at peace.

"There aren't many people here," I whispered to Drew, looking at the empty chairs.

"Mr. Callaway wasn't the most liked man," he replied. I thought that it was sad, but could understand it. I had seen how he talked down on Drew the few times that I had seen them together. I looked around for Justin. I never saw him. His parents must not have been too fond of him either.

I almost felt like there should have been more said at the funeral, but there really wasn't. It was a simple funeral with very few people. There wasn't even a graveside service per Mr. Callaway's request.

Drew opened my door and held my wrist before I could slide in. "I'm sorry, Morgan. I'm trying my best to comprehend that my wife may be carrying another man's child," he said. I could understand that. I touched his cheek and smiled, letting him know that I understood.

"Can't you pin point the time frame. I can't stand not knowing," Drew said on the drive back to the house.

f.u.c.k...

"No, Drew. I can't do that. I was with you three times in the two days that you were in Maine, and I was with him three times the following day."

Drew shook his head. He was angry again. I would be too, I guess.

I looked down at my phone and saw that I had a missed call from Dawson.

What the f.u.c.k? Neither of them had called the whole time I was at my moms. Not once did either of them call to see how I was, and now they both decide to pop back into my life at the same time.

Drew sent Marta home as soon as we were back.

He went into his office and I followed, removing my heels. I watched as he typed in the search.

"Can you have a paternity test while being pregnant?"

"Drew, I'm not even a hundred percent sure that I am pregnant," I protested.

"You're a week late, you have been sick for the past two mornings, but feel better shortly after. You are tired, and hungry. I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure you're pregnant."

"There!" he said, excited.

You could have a paternity test while being pregnant. I didn't know that fact.

"Yeah, read the rest. The court system needs to be involved before a physician will even do it. It's not safe for the baby," I said pointing to the article that he was reading.

"In rare cases," he pointed out. "How far along do you think you are? We have to do it before the 14th week."

"Drew, will you stop."

"No, Morgan. If we can do this, we are. I am not spending the next nine months waiting to see if this is my kid. I can't. I will end up hating you over it. How far along do you think you are?"

"Not very, six weeks maybe," I answered. I wasn't doing this before the baby. It was right there in plain English. There was a chance that it could harm the fetus.

Drew wasn't listening to me. He was on the phone calling his judge friend. The one that forced me to marry him, I was sure. I listened while he explained the situation, and of course the crooked judge agreed to sign whatever he needed to have signed.

He called Judith Bishop next, the gynecologist that used to come and give me my birth control shot every three months.

"She'll be here in about an hour," Drew exclaimed. I wanted to run away. He was going over my head and doing whatever Drew wanted to do. It p.i.s.sed me off.

"Maybe, you could ask what I think before you go making plans for me," I stated with an angry tone.

"It doesn't f.u.c.king matter what you think," he said just as angry. Okay, this was the Drew that I hated. This was the Drew that disregarded my feelings. I was secretly wishing that the baby turned out to be Dawson's. Dawson would never treat me this way.

I stormed out of his office, and up to my own room.

I wanted to call my mom, but I didn't because I knew that Drew had probably already turned his computer to my room. He was more than likely watching me through the cameras, and he could hear every word that I said.

I took my funeral clothes off and pulled on a comfortable pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I lay across the bed, staring up at the ceiling for probably twenty minutes or so in the same position.

My cellphone rang, and after it had quit I text my mother and told her that I would call her back. It rang again a few minutes later. It was Dawson. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted Dawson. I needed Dawson. I wasn't sure what to do. I knew, or I had a pretty good suspicion that Drew would hear every word I said. He hadn't called in weeks if I ignored him he might think that I didn't want to talk to him. I did.

f.u.c.k Drew...

"Hi," I answered, sitting up and crossing my legs.

"Hey, beautiful," he softly spoke. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath at the sound of his voice. I missed him. I wanted to be in his arms. And no, it wasn't because I was mad at Drew. I really missed him. I hadn't heard from him in almost a month.

"How are you?" I asked.

"Good, besides the fact that I miss you like crazy,"

he replied. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," I lied. I was never going to be okay.

Every time I thought I was making progress, life decided to throw another curve ball.

"You don't sound okay. Where are you?"

"Vegas."

"Oh," he said with a hurt tone.

"I just got here yesterday. Mr. Callaway pa.s.sed away, and I had to come here for the funeral. I'm leaving tomorrow." I hoped Drew heard that.

"Please tell me that you are coming home to me,"

he begged.

"I am coming there," I said.

"But not home to me, right?"

"I didn't say that."

"Are you any closer to deciding what you want than you were before you left?"

I snorted. f.u.c.k no, I wasn't, and I had just gone and made things ten times more complicated.