Underestimated Too(99)

“You got him for a while? I’m going to take a bath.”

“Come here,” Drew coaxed, reaching for me with his hand. I didn’t want to go to him. I wanted him to leave me alone.

Drew pulled me to his lap, and I picked up a truck, spinning the wheels, trying to ignore Drew with a pout.

“Stop being mad at me,” he teased, poking my ribs.

“Stop,” I whined.

“I think it must be that time of month. You’re awfully grouchy.”

“I’m not grouchy. I’m tired of being treated like a teenager. I don’t need you tell me what’s best for me.”

“Morgan, it’s not about that. I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you.”

“You can’t keep me locked up here with you because you worry about me.”

“I know. I’m trying. Give me some time. I’m getting there.”

“Okay, I agreed.” I knew this was hard for Drew. I knew he was trying and would hopefully lose his insecurities and trust me. I wasn’t sure how much more I could handle. I thought I was doing fine. I didn’t think I minded the way he was but in truth, I did. It made me think of life in Maine for the first time in a very long time.

That’s what I reflected on while I soaked in a hot bubble bath, life in Maine. Oh how I missed it. Not so much the cold winters, but the beach, my friends, Starlight, Lauren, and even Dawson. Dawson never treated me this way. I remembered asking his permission one afternoon to go out with Starlight and Lauren to see a movie. He looked at me like I had said the most ridiculous thing in the world. I never asked after that. I actually even taunted with it a couple times after that, like it was a really big deal to tell him I am doing something.

Dawson never cared what I did, or who I did it with. Drew would never be that way. We could hire a hundred Deidra’s and it wouldn’t matter. Drew was always going to want control over me. Was I willing to give it to him? I already had. I just wasn’t sure I was willing to let him keep it.

***

“You’re still mad at me,” Drew accused when I didn’t lay my book down and give him my full attention.

“No I’m not.”

“You are too. If you weren’t, you’d put that book down and pay attention to me.”

Do I know my husband or what?

“I’m at a really good part,” I countered.

“Read it to me.”

“No.”

“Take your panties off and read it to me.”

Stupid vagina.

Stupid vagina and stupid book. I really was at a good part. I would be rereading it again the following day. I have no idea what I was reading, and I wasn’t really thinking about what Drew was doing while I sat between his legs or what his fingers were doing to my pussy. My mind went to the first time Drew had done this. He was pissed about a deal that Derik had lost and was yelling at him in the living area where I was reading.

I sat just like this, between his legs, against his chest, while he reached around me, played with my pussy, and twisted my nipple while I read to him.

“Don’t stop,” Drew warned, just like he had the first time. I tried to keep reading words I couldn’t understand. I was losing. “Don’t come,” Drew also warned in my hair. I was screwed. I was going to come and then I was going to lay across my husband’s lap and take a spanking. I swear my pussy knew it too. Just thinking about it made me want to come.

“Don’t stop, Drew,” I moaned, writhing into his fingers, almost there when he stopped, hearing Nicholas fuss.

“Nicholas is crying.”

Holding his fingers with my hand, I rubbed them around my pulsating nub, myself. I wasn’t about to let him quit. I was right there. Drew rubbed, quicker and harder, letting me release.

“Let me up,” he demanded.

“Uh-uh, wait a minute,” I panted, needing to come down from my high first. “I’ll get him.”

“What is the problem here, little man?” I asked, turning the dim lamp on in Nicholas’s room. “Mommy’s trying to have an adult moment with your daddy. It’s time for you to go to bed.”

I picked him up, checked his dry diaper, and laid him back down with a kiss. I didn’t even have the blanket over him when he rolled over and pulled himself up again, determined he wasn’t going to bed yet. Mommy was determined that he was.

“What are you doing? He’s still crying,” Drew pointed out the fact, laying on his side, stroking his massive erection. Damn.

“He’s fine. He’s fed, bathed, read to, and dry. He’ll give up soon,” I assured him, taking his hardness in my hand.

“He probably wants you to rock him or something.”