Underestimated (19 page)

wasn’t expecting that, at all. The lighted sign above the

store read, ‘Callaway Jewels.’ I had seen the commercial

a million times and never knew. I knew that this was not

his only store, and the commercial made it clear that there

were twelve others throughout the country along with three

in Europe.

“Drew?” I said, questioning what I was doing

there. A man in a white tuxedo reached for my hand.

“You need to go pick out your wedding rings. I

can’t take you to a party as my wife without rings.” He

actually smiled happily at me.

“I need your help,” I assured him.

“Why?” he asked annoyed.

“How do I know what to get? How much money

should I spend? I don’t know how to do this, Drew. Come

with me, please,” I begged.

He laughed. “Don’t worry about the money. Pick

out what you want. I have to make a call. Carson is here to

help you.”

I took the man’s white gloved hand, and he led me

to the lit case of rings.

“You can pick anything from this case,” he

instructed.

I didn’t want to pick from that case. I knew that I

was being shown the most expensive pieces in the store.

They were all so beautiful and I had a hard time deciding.

I wanted them all. I could only remember owning one ring

my entire life. My grandma Joyce had ordered it from

Avon for me. I felt bad for leaving it behind when I was

taken away from my home. I didn’t wear it much because

it had left a black ring around my finger when I did, but I

cherished it because it was a gift from my grandma.

I chose a stunning, boasted with a six-carat

shimmering pink diamond ring, complete with three

baguette white diamonds set in platinum and rose gold. I

stared at the ring constantly as we drove to our

destination. Drew noticed my joy and commented.

“You like that?” he asked.

“I love it. It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever

owned. Can I ask how much it’s worth?” I asked. None of

the prices were on any of the rings, and I was sure that

elegant jewelry stores like his didn’t place the price on

their jewels.

“Thirty five thousand,” he replied. I gasped.

Holly Shit….

I thought that I did exceptionally well at the

banquet. I stayed close by Drew, and mostly only smiled

when he would introduce me to his acquaintances. I

wouldn’t have called them friends. I was sure that Drew

wasn’t capable of having a friend. Even the guy, Derik that

seemed to be his sidekick and was with him all the time

seemed to be annoyed with him more than anything.

Drew was more attentive toward me that night than

he ever had been. His hand constantly rested on the small

of my back, and he held my hand. I was sure that it was all

for show, but nonetheless it did make me feel special for a

little while.

I actually felt like I was envied by the women

standing around watching as Drew waltzed me across the

dance floor. I was flattered when he raised his eyebrows

at my flawless elegant ballroom dancing.

I did what I was told to do. I stood by his side with

my glass of wine and looked pretty.

I did notice a man in a wheelchair that constantly

stared at us. He looked sickly and was being escorted by a

much younger lady that I was sure was his nurse or

caretaker. I turned to Drew, just in case the guy could read

lips.

“Drew, why does that man keep staring at me?” I

asked. “Who is he?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a tone that

told me that he didn’t want me to know, or it was none of

my business.

I let it go, but shortly after, the man was wheeled

over to us. I had never seen Drew suck up to anyone

before. He was kissing this man’s ass like nothing I had

ever seen.

“This is my beautiful wife, Morgan,” he said,

introducing me, but failed to disclose the man in the

wheelchairs name.

He took my hand and ran his hand over my pink

diamond. “I’m Randal Callaway,” he said, not letting go

of my hand.

I felt uncomfortable and wondered about the name

again. Our home said Callaway estates. The jewelry store

said Callaway Jewels, and now his name was Callaway.

Maybe Drew really didn’t own any of it. Maybe he was a

relative. Maybe he was just the CEO. I wished that I could

ask Drew about the name, but knew that he would tell me

that it didn’t concern me.

“Leave us, Drew,” the man said looking up, finally

letting go of my hand.

“I am not sure that is such a good idea, sir. Morgan

isn’t used to being around this many people. She’s a little

uncomfortable,” Drew tried.

“Walk away, son,” the man demanded with a stern

expression, and just like a little whipped pup, Drew

retreated with his tail between his legs. I was in awe that

somebody actually put the narcissist ass in his place.

“Sit with me,” the man said, taking my hand again

and leading me to an elegant set of chairs in a corner.

I sat, and he held both my hands in his. I was

confused and wanted to know who he was. I didn’t ask.

Drew was giving me a death stare, and I wasn’t about to

say anything without being asked first.

“How do you like the estate?” he asked.

“I love it there.” I replied. I did love the estate. I

just wished I didn’t have to share it with Drew. I wanted

to ask him why his name was on the stone wall, so bad,

but didn’t dare.

“Good. So you are happy?”

Fuck no…

“Very,” I lied.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me,

Morgan,” he smiled. “Is there anything that you need?” he

asked, and again I was confused as to why he cared. He

acted as though he knew me or something.

“No, sir, Drew gives me more than I need,” I

explained. I did have everything that I needed, minus the

essential emotional care.

I mostly listened, and he talked, knowing that

Drew was staring daggers at me. I didn’t know what I was

supposed to do. Did he want me to refuse to talk to the

man? I didn’t even know what his interest in me was, let

alone who the hell he was. He gave me a card and

explained that his cellphone number was on there and to

call him if I ever needed anything.

I thanked him, and his caretaker wheeled him

away.

Drew was angry, and I could tell. We left shortly

after that. He tapped his foot nervously on the floorboard

of the limousine.

“Drew, did I do something wrong?” I finally

asked. He turned and angrily glared at me.

“You are joking, right?” he asked.

What the fuck…?

“I thought that I did everything that you asked me to

do. What did I do?” I asked, and had a feeling that it had

something to do with Mr. Callaway.

“What did he say to you?” He asked with an angry

tone.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Not much of anything.

He admired my ring, asked me if I was happy, if I had

everything that I needed, and he gave me his card and said

that if I ever needed anything that I could call him anytime.

Who is he, Drew?”

Drew put his hand out, and I knew that he wanted

the card. I unsnapped my little handbag and handed to him.

He wadded it up in his hand and tossed it to the floor. He

held his hand out again, and I didn’t know what he wanted.

I didn’t have anything else. Did he want me to take his

hand?

“What?” I asked.

“The rings,” he said.

Fucking dick head…

I should have known that it was just for show, but

a little part of me wanted to believe that he wanted me and

that the rings were a symbol of that. I slid the rings from

my finger, and he dropped them in his shirt pocket. He still

didn’t tell me who the man was, and I was a little taken

aback at how he seemed to cower to the older man.

The driver didn’t drive us home, and we went to a

penthouse in downtown Las Vegas. I knew that it wasn’t

going to be a pleasant romantic evening, and I was in for a

night of hell. That was an understatement. I froze as he led

me to the bedroom. The bed was draped with a red velvet

cover and had black straps with soft red collars at all four

post. There was a table with different sex toys laid out,

and I knew that they were all for me.

“The next time somebody asks
me to leave you

alone with them, and you hear me say that I don’t think that

it is a good idea, you need to agree and ask me to stay,” he

said in a low warning tone as he circled me and kissed my

bare chest.

“You should have clarified that before we got

there. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. I don’t

even know who the guy is,” I tried to explain and took an

angry blow from the back of his hand.

“You shouldn’t be so stupid,” he accused. “Don’t

you ever talk to someone without my presence again. Do

you understand, Morgan?”

“Yes, Drew,” I answered, holding my face.

“My father is none of your fucking business.

Nothing I do is any of your business. Do I make myself

perfectly clear?”

Father
?

“Yes, Drew,” I answered again. He seemed to

think that I gave a half of an ounce about what he did. I

didn’t, and I didn’t want to know him, his father, or what

he did. I just wanted out of that room, and was terrified

that he was going to hurt me.

“Take your clothes off and lay on the bed,” he

demanded and left the room.

The first thing that I did was walk to the glass

doors. I didn’t care that I was somewhere high in the sky. I

would jump. It would have been better than living and

being married to that monster. The doors were locked and

wouldn’t budge, of course. That was my luck. I didn’t

know how much time I had before he came back, so I did

the only thing that could do. I undressed and lay on the

bed, close to the edge with my feet crossed, trying to

cover my naked body as long as he would allow it.

He returned a few minutes later with a drink in his

hand. “Hmm,” he moaned, staring at my naked body. He

caressed my breast and pinched my nipple.

“Do you want spanked first or would you rather I

fuck your pussy?” he asked, gesturing his hand along the

table of tools that he would use on me. The sick bastard

was going to make me decide. He was going to do both, so

it didn’t really matter in my book.

“Spank me,” I answered.

“You like it when I spank you, don’t you,

Morgan?” he asked as he ran his fingers up my sex,

sipping his drink.

Stupid, deserter, vagina.

“Answer me,” he demanded, lifting my leg so that

he could get a better view.

“Yes. Drew,” I answered in a whisper.

He pulled an ice cube from his drink and held it

over me. “Spread your legs. You like spreading your legs,

that’s why your pussy is always so wet. Did you know

that, Morgan? Did you know that you get so wet because

you love the things that I do to you?” he asked. I flinched a

little at the ice-cold droplet of water on my clit as I pulled

both of my legs higher.

I hated what he did, but was he right? Was that

why I always got so wet when he did the things that he

did? Maybe I was as sick as him.

I could feel the bed becoming wet as the water

droplets ran from my clit to my opening, and onto the bed.

I was almost numb from the cold by the time the ice cube

was gone. Drew sat his cup down, and my heart started to

beat a little faster, anticipating what was about to come.

He undressed and sat on the side of the bed. He

was already harder than iron, and it stood at attention

when he scooted back, making room for me on his lap. He

looked over at me and moved his hand, letting me know

what I needed to do.

I pulled myself up and lay across his lap. I could

feel his shaft on my hip as he thrust it into me a little,

needing the contact. He rubbed his hand over my bottom a

couple of times and moaned.

“You may be a stupid hillbilly and not good for

much, but sure am glad I have you around for this,” he

said, and I grimaced at the first blow to my bare cheeks.

He spanked me more and longer than he ever had, and I