Victoria The Billionaires Maid

I kept my eyes closed and knew exactly whose voice it was, and when. Kenzie and I had been at a park back in Houston. She used to like to be out in nature, so I had made sure to do a lot of outdoorsy things with her. Sometimes, we did nothing more than throw a blanket onto the ground and sit under one of those magnificent oak trees near the school.

The first time she had muttered those words, I had been telling her how worried I was about telling my father where I wanted to play football. She’d been so attentive, and listened to me discuss the pros and cons. She’d always been an objective and calming influence on me.

“Hay to a farmer?”I’d asked, and she’d giggled.Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

“I have Midwestern roots,” she’d finally answered. “Besides, I would think you’d know a thing or two about farms in Texas.”

Our worlds were so completely different. I was born into a very wealthy family and the closest I came to a farm was the horse barn at the edge of our massive property. I was never much of a rider myself, but my mother was. She was an equestrian, and had even won numerous awards and medals in her youth. She’d tried to pass down her love of it to her sons, but I hadn’t been interested. I enjoyed sports and adventure.

“So, I take it you aren’t a cowboy?” she’d also asked.

I had rolled her underneath me, then lightly kissed her lips. She was a virgin, so I had done all the right things and said all the right words to keep her hanging on. “No, unless you count Halloween costumes over the years. Would you like to see me in a hat and pair of boots?”

She’d shaken her head, then pulled my mouth back to hers. Looking back, there’d been a warmth that emanated from her, but I had thrown it all away for bragging rights. I still didn’t know what it’d been that I felt for her, but there was something there beside the usual sexual lust.

You’re a bad boy, Jonas. The voice now echoed through my head, but it hadn’t been Kenzie’s. It was a female’s, and as I tried to recall whose it was, another sound pierced the memory before it disappeared.

I opened my eyes and rolled onto my back. I ran my hand through my hair. It was getting long, and I was in desperate need of a cut. I had a barber in the city, and after tomorrow’s meeting, I planned to book an appointment.

I was tired of just sitting here in the room, but I didn’t feel like mingling with anyone. After the shit had gone down in high school with Kenzie, I had withdrawn from friends and activities that I often enjoyed, including sex. It seemed no matter how many years passed, I seemed to be repeating history once more. I got up and walked to the mini fridge. I needed to stop thinking about the fight we had before she stormed out. I had every right to be mad at her this time. She was the one who’d broken into my room, then she had the nerve to accuse others of doing the same thing she had done.

“I need you to know that me doing what I did with you last night wasn’t some ploy to try to influence your decision,”she’d told me the morning after. She’d looked and sounded so sincere. I hadn’t even thought she was capable of something like that, but did I actually know her any more? Did I ever actually know her to begin with?

That question had me pacing back and forth until I finally stopped in front of the wet bar. Grabbing a small bottle of whiskey, I opened it and swallowed the contents inside in one swig. I then tossed it into the garbage can, completely missing it altogether.

“I lost the love and respect of my parents and siblings… I was labeled crazy and sent to a psychiatric ward for over a year, where instead of walking down the aisle and accepting my diploma, I was being poked and prodded, and force-fed medicine.”

That was also something she’d told me, and as her words repeated themselves over in my head, I hung mine in shame.

I was patting myself on the back for declining party invitations and refraining from sex for a few weeks while her entire life was in shambles. After a short amount of time, I had picked back up where I’d left off as if nothing had ever happened. As if we’d never happened. And after I moved to California, I had tried to pretend she had never been in my life to begin with. It had almost worked until she’d shown up at the hotel in Manhattan.

“We’re grown adults and all of that is in the past.”Kenzie had said it so convincingly, but hearing the anguish in her voice the day I caught her in my room relayed something much different.

“I was actually hoping we could start over.”

Kenzie had never meant to start over. She had tried playing me, but for what? The contract. As she found out, sleeping with me didn’t guarantee her a thing. In the end, it was all for nothing if that had truly been her plan.

The girls are going to see your cock and they’re going to say and do all kinds of things to get it, came the same voice from earlier.

I had no idea whose it was, and after slamming back another shot bottle of whiskey, I returned to bed. I had to be hallucinating. It wouldn’t be the first time. Once or twice, I’d remember similar types of things, but when at my uncle’s cabin in the New York mountains. It was one of my favorite places to go, and I often spent the entire summer there. Logan did, too. Then, all of a sudden, he refused to go.

I closed my eyes again after leaning back against the mound of pillows. My hand was resting on my chest as I tried to recall what had happened. It wasn’t long before it drifted lower. Before I even realized what I was doing, my hand was on my cock and I was stroking it.

“You’re going to make some woman very happy with this one day.” That voice. As I stroked myself harder, I tried to recall it. I knew what she’d been referring to, but when and why? “You get so hard, and you stay that way, too. If Allen was like you, then I wouldn’t be here.”

Allen. That was my uncle which meant that… Carolina.

I kept my eyes closed, and now focused in on the blonde. She had a huge fucking rack, and an ass so firm that you could bounce a quarter off of it. She was ten years younger than him, and my father often called her a gold digger. She’d always been very nice to me and my brother, and as I tried to think back to those summer trips, things became much clearer.

It was no longer my own hand stroking my cock, but hers. I remember the coolness of her wedding ring. At the time, it had felt wrong, but I had never remembered any of it happening, and I had no idea why I was now. Her mouth would then replace her hand, and I allowed the newly recovered memory to play.

“You taste so good,” she’d tell me as she lapped at my cock. I was maybe about thirteen, and with my youth, I had very little self-control.

As if I was standing there beside my younger self, I would watch myself come in her mouth. She’d then rise up and disgust filled the current me as I watched her wipe her lips afterward. Her nails. They were always some shade of purple, which was something I once asked her about.

“It’s my favorite color, and you should always surround yourself with your favorite things,” had been her response.

“I’ve missed you, Jonas,” she’d tell me each year when I would return. Now, I knew why. My step aunt had been molesting me, and that might’ve been why Logan eventually refused to go. Did she seduce him, too? Or drug him? As I tried refocusing on those trips, a crack sounded in the air and a blistering stripe of fire raced across my thigh.

I dropped my hand from my cock and thrust the blanket off of me. There was nothing there that I could see, but the pain had been so intense it couldn’t have just been in my dreams.

“You’re a bad boy, Jonas. I’m going to have to punish you now,” she’d say.