Ivy’s pov
"Are you listening, Ivy?"
I blinked, the low hum of the washing machine pulling me back from my spiraling thoughts.
My eyes were all misty as Donna’s face swam into focus. She was looking at me, her head cocked to one side, her white chef hat angled. She had a wooden spoon in her hand. The scent of vanilla and sugar hung in the warm, steamy air of the laundry room.
"Sorry, what?" I mumbled, my gaze dropping back to the spinning drum.
The mix of clothes swirled together in a vortex through the glass of the washing machine while my thoughts kept screaming the one word that I had seen in that text yesterday.
"I saw what you did."
It was a single text from an unknown number and it unnerved me like crazy. Saw what I did? Was it the stuff with Roman by the pool yesterday?
My heart hammered against my ribs, doing a freaking tap dance. I gnawed on my bottom lip, the skin already raw and tender from my constant anxious chewing.
Was it one of the brothers? Malachi? I wouldn’t put it past him to do this. Was this some twisted mind-fuck? Or was it Gideon? I didn’t think he was someone who would blackmail anyone. He seemed more like a commanding man than someone to resort to tricks.
"I said," Donna repeated, her faux accent getting stronger. "I’m trying out a new dessert for the Masters. A peanut butter dessert, want to be my taste tester?"
I shook my head, my stomach churning. "No, thank you. I don’t eat peanuts."
I also am in hot soup, so I have more important things to worry about than freaking peanuts.
"You’re allergic?"
"Not anymore, but I used to be when I was younger. The doctor says I have. I have outgrown it, but I try to stay safe anyway."
Especially after the last crisis I had two years ago. I had even landed in the freaking hospital. I had enough trips to the ER to last me a lifetime.
Donna’s shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "Fine, I’ll go ask the old coot."
I couldn’t help the dry chuckle that left my lips. The old coot was Harry the gardener, and he and Donna were like cat and rat.
She bustled out of the laundry room, leaving me alone with the humming machine and the screaming word in my head.
I saw what you did. I saw what you did.
The machine clicked off, and I tried to focus on the task, pulling a load of dark clothes from the dryer. My hands were shaking so badly I fumbled with the heavy, wet basket, tipping it slightly.
I knelt to stuff the clothes into the front-loading washer, and pushed deeper into the machine to dislodge a bunched-up duvet.
Big mistake. That move had my shoulders pressing against the cold rubber seal of the machine. I wiggled, trying to pull back out of the machine, but I wouldn’t budge.
"Crap!" I cursed into the wet washing machine, wanting to smack myself hard in the face. How could I be so stupid? I tried to wiggle free again, but my shoulders wouldn’t budge past the rim.
Panic shot through me. If no one came for me, I could be stuck here for hours!
"Donna!" I called out, my voice echoing loudly in the washing machine. "Donna, help me! I’m stuck!"
Footsteps approached, entering the room, and relief washed over me so intensely my knees went weak.
"Donna? Thank God," I gasped, my face pressed against the cold metal of the machine. "Help me, I’m stuck."
"Oh, I would love to help you, little Ivy."
Oh hell no!
Chills swept down my spine, my body going rigid. "Fuck off," I snarled, my voice muffled by the machine.
"Now, now, is that any way to ask for help?" he taunted. I could hear him moving closer, his footsteps unnervingly quiet.
"The sight of your ass stuck up in the air like that is actually fucking lovely."
Oh, it was him. It was definitely him at the elevator that night. The way he spoke, that scent and faint smell of smoke that always clung to him, and the freaking bandana- it was him.
"You’re a pervert!" I hissed, struggling uselessly against the machine.
"I’m a pervert who’s about to walk away and leave you here," he replied smoothly.
"You’re wasting time playing around in the machine. We don’t pay you to play around, now do we? My brothers and I might have to look for another housekeeper if you’re incompetent."
I seethed, my teeth grinding so hard I was surprised they didn’t crack. "Fine," I hissed, the word tasting like poison. "Help me."
"That’s not enough," his voice right behind me now, and a shiver slid up my spine.
I squeezed my eyes shut. "Fine. Please help me."
"Hmmm, I don’t want that either."
"THEN WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?" I screamed, my frustration boiling over.
"To fuck you."
The words were so blunt, so crude, I flinched. "You’re kidding."
A gasp slipped from my lips when he suddenly pressed up against me, the hard and thick ridge of his cock pressing against my ass through the fabric of my maid uniform. I wiggled my hips away, cursing him under my breath. He just laughed, a low, dirty sound.
"Doesn’t look like I’m kidding now, does it?" He murmured, running a hand over my lower back before planting both hands on my waist.
"I can get you out, but there’s a price to pay. What’s it going to be? Spend hours stuck in here, or you spread those pretty legs wider."
I bit my bottom lip so hard I tasted blood when he ground his cock against me; the fabric of my panties did little to dull the pressure, zaps of heat going straight to my pussy.
I bit back a moan when he yanked my skirt up, exposing my shamelessly soaked panties. Oh god, I shouldn’t be responding to him.
"Fuck, you’re soaking wet for me," His hand came down, a sharp, stinging slap on my ass. "You can’t deny you want this, baby."
I yelped, wiggling my ass as the sting reverberated through my skin. "Fine!" I bit out, spreading my legs wider, my knees digging into the hard floor of the laundry room.
"Just do your shit and be gone."
"Don’t be like that," he smacked my ass lightly again before the sound of his zipper being dragged down filled the air. "You’ll enjoy it."
"Enjoy what?" I shot back, my voice dripping with scorn. "Your tiny prick?"
As the words left my mouth, his fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties, pulling the damp fabric to the side. Cool air hit my heated pussy, and a thrill shot through me.
Oh god, he would fuck me again. My pussy clenched hard, more juices seeping from my cunt.
"You’re going to eat those words, my little slut. Gonna fuck you so hard you feel me for days."
I was in the process of retorting, of calling him every name in the book, when he rammed his dick into me. Again.