Read Underestimated Too Online
Authors: Jettie Woodruff
Underestimated Too
Copyright © 2014 by Jettie
Woodruff
Published by Jettie Woodruff
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including
electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author, except in
the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This
book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments,
organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of
authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All characters, dead or alive, are a
figment of the author’s imagination, and all incidents and dialogue are drawn
from the author’s mind and are not to be interpreted as real.
Dedication
& Acknowledgements
This
book is dedicated to everyone behind the scenes. I’m going to try my best not
to leave anyone out, but if I do, know that I appreciate you all the same.
To
Julie Kerr for all your hard work and critiquing for me.
To
Soraya Naomi for not killing me during the editing process.
For
all my girls who make me smile on a daily basis and pimp me to their friends
and blogs: Megan Galt, Amy Bull, Lisa Kane, Rebecca Marie, Allyson Sinclair,
Rachael Orman, Mary The Bomb Beth, Danielle Chakon, Jennifer Hagen, Erin
Mcfarland, Amanda Littlefield, Aleatha Romig, Vikki Ryan, Natalie Townson,
Alicia Taylor, Sue Ward, Crystal Barr, Cherra Wammock, Barbara Jo Johnson, and
for all of the bloggers that support me. I’m sure I am missing someone, but I
could write a book with just names of people who have helped me during this
journey.
To
all my dirty girls. Thanks, you girlies rock.
“Daddy’s coming. See daddy?” I asked, bouncing
Nicholas in my arms. I couldn’t believe he was six months old already. He was
such a little man, sporting his own little personality, and his daddy was part
of that personality. He kicked his legs and arms excitedly as soon as he saw
Drew enter the door. He was even more excited on days like this, when Drew had been
gone for three days. Mommy was pretty excited to see him too.
“Marta,” I called. “Take him upstairs.”
“Morgan, please come upstairs. Wait until he calms
down,” Marta begged, taking Nicholas from me.
“I’m fine. Just go upstairs with Nicky, please.”
My excitement quickly turned into dread. I crossed
my arms and watched as Drew screamed and yelled at Celeste. Celeste, unlike me,
gave it right back. I mean I did sometimes, I guess, but not when he was like
this. It was best I calmly let him rant until it was over.
“Where’s Nicholas?” Drew yelled, slamming the door
behind him.
He’s not mad at you, Morgan. It’s work.
He’s just stressed.
“Marta just took him up for a nap. He was getting
fussy. I missed you.” I tried appeasing him by wrapping my arms around his
neck.
He moved them. “Did you cut your hair?”
“A little. Do you like it?”
“No, why didn’t you ask me first?”
“Drew. Stop. You’re just trying to start a fight.”
“I’m trying to start a fight because I think my wife
should ask before going off and cutting her hair?”
“It’s not even an inch for Christ’s sake. Do you ask
me permission before you get a haircut? You’re being ridiculous.”
“I don’t tell you what I am doing because I don’t
need to. You do not, nor will you ever, wear the pants in this family. You got
that, Morgan?” Drew yelled, slamming me against the closed door. I held his
stare until he grabbed my hair, waiting for an answer.
“Yes, Drew.”
“Go!” he ordered, nodding towards his office.
This was not how I’d planned his homecoming. I knew
where I was going, and I knew why. This wasn’t my first rodeo, and I was sure
it wouldn’t be my last. I could have protested and made it worse. I didn’t do
that; it was easier this way.
“You do this shit because you want me to punish you,
don’t you, Morgan?” Drew asked, closing the door and locking it. He didn’t need
to lock the door. He knew no one would come in. He did it as form of
manipulation, like a threat. I didn’t care if the door was locked. He was going
to do what he did regardless of the door being locked.
I didn’t answer. I only stood there with my arms
crossed, fighting my own demons. Part of me was already aroused and the other
part wanted to be defiant, tell him where to go and show him I didn’t have to
listen to him.
“Answer me!” he yelled just as I caught the back of
his knuckles with my cheekbone. Drew slammed me to his desk and rubbed my ass.
“You always do this. You always have to go and fucking defy me. I think you
like this, Morgan. I think you love it when I bend you over this desk and spank
you like a bad little girl. You like it. That’s why you do it, isn’t it,
Morgan?”
“Yes, Drew,” I answered, closing my eyes, breathing
quick erratic breaths as he unbuttoned my shorts.
“That’s why your pussy is so wet. Can you feel how
wet your pussy is? Your pussy is so fucking wet, Morgan,” he whispered to the
back of my hair as he slid my shorts down my hips. I stepped out of them and
gasped from the contact of his flat hand against my ass. I moaned when he
rubbed the sting out and dipped his middle finger inside me before the second
blow.
The dull pain that I’d felt just below my right eye
was replaced with pleasure between my legs. I was wet. I don’t know why. I
don’t know why I would be turned on by this. This was sick, repulsive, and
twisted. Would things always be this way? Could Maranda fix us? I doubted it.
She probably wouldn’t even be around after this week. That’s what Drew did. As
soon as our new therapist wanted to dig deeper into his past, he fired them. I
couldn’t see Maranda getting any further with him than the last four had.
I took five stinging blows to my bare ass before
Drew released himself deep inside me. The friction of him, sliding in and out
of me was amazing. I wanted to come in three seconds. Drew hissed, pulling my
hips towards his, thrashing in and out of me.
“Can you reach the drawer?” he murmured. I leaned
forward, opened the desk drawer, and handed the bottle and a condom back to
him.
“Ahhh fuck, baby,” he moaned, sliding into my ass. I
moaned too when he reached around to massage my pulsating clitoris. “You want
come, don’t you, baby?”
“Oh god, yes. Hmmm, right there, Drew,” I moaned,
dropping my head, spiraling out of control at the twisted hands of my husband.
“Turn around,” Drew rasped in a husky tone, the
husky tone that drove me crazy.
Falling to my knees, I waited for the condom to come
off and parted my lips. Drew moaned, coating my lips with his come. “Hmmm fuck,
Morgan. Yeah, baby, swallow me. Hmmm, that’s it,” he hissed, sliding to the
back of my throat.
Sucking him clean, I looked up to his half smile and
sad eyes. Sometimes I wished he’d just talk to me; tell me what was on his
mind. He wouldn’t. I’d tried too many times, always getting the same response. It
was his job to take care of me and Nicky, and I didn’t need to worry about him.
“Drew, don’t. I’m fine,” I said, looking up as Drew
brushed the palm of his thumb across my bruising cheek.
“Goddamnit, Morgan. Come here.”
I stood, wrapping my arms around his neck. He pulled
me close, burying his face in my hair.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.”
“I’m fine. Stop. Let’s go see your son. We were
standing at the window waiting when you came home.”
“I thought you said he was napping.”
Shit. I hated it when I made him feel guilty. It never
helped a thing. It always made it worse. I turned away from him without
answering, retrieved my clothes, and dressed while he stared at me.
“You sent him upstairs when you saw me arguing with
Celeste, didn’t you?”
“You weren’t arguing with Celeste. You need to call
and apologize to her.”
Drew sat on the brown leather sofa and disgustedly
ran his fingers through his hair. I placed my hand over his and begged him to
let it go. It’s what I did. I don’t want to make it sound like this was normal,
or our routine or anything. It wasn’t. Most of the time Drew came home happy,
missing me and Nicky. The times that Drew lost money on a sale, or when
business was down, or something happened at work that upset him were the times
things ended like this.
Whatever. It was over. He’d be sorry and be the best
husband and father a woman could ask for—until the next time anyway.
“Go see Nicky. I’ll be up in a minute.”
I jumped when Drew stood and put his fist through
the wall, literally through the wall. “You’ll be up in a minute because you
need to go get ice, right?”
“Drew. Damn it. Will you stop? Let it go. Please,” I
begged, exasperated. This was the worst part of his temper. I would rather deal
with the temper than the guilt that followed it.
“I’m sorry, Morgan. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not mad at you. I’m fine. I forgive you. It’s
Friday, you have two days of no work, just me and your spoiled little boy.”
“He is not spoiled.”
I breathed a sigh of relief at the smile on his
face. “He is so spoiled. He thinks you have to be with him every second. As
soon as I walk out of the room, he screams.”
“He just doesn’t want you to leave him. I don’t want
you to leave me either,” Drew sadly spoke, kissing my bruised cheek.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise me?”
“I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”
Drew went up to see Nicholas, and I walked to the
kitchen for an icepack. I could already feel it swelling and could see the
puffiness below my eye.
“Don’t Marta. It’s none of your business,” I said,
turning to see the look on Marta’s face; it was telling me how stupid I was.
Maybe I was. I don’t know, regardless it was none of her business.
“I’m not saying a word. I don’t need to. You know
exactly what you’re doing.”
“You do know that Drew hears everything you say. He
can rewind every camera in this house,” I warned.
Marta shrugged her shoulders and took the icepack
from me. “Is he going to fire me for sticking up for you? Telling you how you deserve
better? Is that what you’re afraid of?” she asked, placing the blue gel over my
eye.
