TAINT ME, DADDIES

7: A Little Help

MAISIE

They didn't get the message loud and clear.

I was repeatedly added back to the group till I blocked it. When I did that, they switched to their personal numbers to message me, and the messages included lots of thirst traps and explicit messages about what they wanted to do to me.

Ian said I shouldn't bother fighting this when I so clearly want them.

Damon was certain I dreamt about them.

Zahir maintained that I've touched myself while thinking about them.

Their messages were explicit and raw, and sometimes made me wet, but I fought it. I read the messages without replying, and most times I blocked their new numbers without reading them.

But the Vanderbilt brothers don't take no for an answer, and they sure don't give up on whoever they've marked as their prey.

In school, I maintained a strict distance between us, but they always found a way to run into me, both in cafes, walkways, and classes. They never say or do anything, but their gazes lingered long enough for me to understand them loud and clear.

They wanted me, and it was just a matter of time before they claimed me again.

The Christmas frenzy in school did a mild job of distracting me from thinking about them. The whole school was looking forward to the annual five-day Christmas retreat organized by the school, where we'd go to a resort and play all sorts of Christmas games and just have fun before the school closed for the year.

There were already Christmas decorations and carols in schools, and because I was on the planning committee for most of the events, I had little to no time to think about those boys.

But still, they creep into my thoughts now and then. Most times, my p***y clenches and aches at their thoughts, and the pain wouldn't go away until I touched myself and imagined it was the brothers toying with my body.

It was infuriating. But that was the most I was willing to go. I could touch myself to their thoughts behind closed doors, but it'd forever remain a secret, and I'd never allow them to put their hands on me again.

I was hunched over my study desk, going over the last Christmas event before we went for the retreat. I was the main planner, and the number of volunteers to join the team was too low. The participants were even lower. It took sniffing around to find out that the Vanderbilt brothers had also fixed a random event for that same day. And of course, the students gravitated towards them more.

I knew it was a bait to get me to call them, but I wasn't going to. They could resort to whatever tactics that enter their bird brains, and I still wouldn't dance to their tunes. Instead, I was going to find a way to make this work.

My phone vibrated. I ignored it at first, sure that it was them, but when I glanced at it, it was from customer care. I didn't know what customer care it was, but I picked up anyway.

“Well, you picked up.” It was Damon, tone lazy and voice throaty. I pictured him sitting on a sofa, head thrown back against the backrest, spread out on the chair like he owned the damn world.

“Resorting to petty tricks now, I see.”

“We were desperate to hear from you,” Ian added, throwing me off balance because when did the Vanderbilt brothers become so expressive of their emotions? Emotions that feel towards me? Was this some kind of sick prank?

“And since hijacking your Christmas event didn't make you reach out, we figured out that doing that would work.” Zahir completed, and I groaned.

“What part of ‘I don't want you’ don't you understand? We fooled around twice, but that is where it ends.”

The only reply I got was a resounding chuckle.

“Funny? What I said is funny?”

“Why do you keep lying to yourself, little Hawthorne?” Ian’s voice had taken a sinful glint, “I bet you're wet from just hearing our voices.”

I exhaled loudly. He wasn't wrong, but I was never going to admit that to any of them.

“Is that right? Maisie, are you wet for us right now?” Zahir asked in a voice that made me cross my legs.

“Why me? There are hundreds of girls in Elite, and even beyond that, who must be willing to jump into bed with you. So why me?”

“We choose you, little Hawthorne.” Damon replied, “You're right. We can have any girl we want, but you're the one whose sounds we dream of, whose body we want to explore and mark. You're the one we jerk off to, Maisie, so it's you. We want you, and you should know that we're not stopping until you're ours.”

His confession made my head spin. I had to get out of this conversation before I actually succumbed again.

“It's a good thing I don't want you guys, and those two times were definitely a mistake.”

I cut the call before any of them could reply. They called again almost immediately. I ignored it, but I was already hot and bothered.

Was the confession too? Did they really want me? That doesn't even matter. I don't care what they want or do not want. I just don't want to have anything to do with them.

A couple of minutes later, my phone vibrated again. It was a text.

We sent a little help (gift) to your house, addressed to your mother, but it's really for you. Trust me, you don't want her to see what came in for her innocent daughter.

My blood ran cold as I thought of all the things they could send. The audio recording? A video this time around? I jerked up in fright and tried to dial the number when I remembered the doorbell had rung a while ago, and I had heard one of the maids call for Mom after she answered it.

I dropped my phone and ran out of the room.

By the time I got downstairs, I was panting and shaking. Mom was in the dining room, fussing over a package. There was a pair of scissors in her hand, and she was tearing at the tapes.

“Mom, it's mine.”

“But it's addressed to me,” she turned the delivery details to me so I could see that it was really her name. My heart pounded wildly. I don't know what they have in there, but whatever it was, Mom and Dad would eat me alive.

“Yes, I… I used your name. I'm sorry.” I reached out and tried to pick up the box, but she kept it out of my reach. She looked up at me, eyes me wearily.

“You look tense,” she observed, and I tried to comport myself, “is it something I shouldn't see? If it isn't, then why use my name?”

“Mom, it was just a mistake. It's some Christmas decorations and lights for my room.”

“It's a solid object in there, darling,” she raised the box and shook it, and by the sound it made, it was a solid, big object. It couldn't be a flash drive or a CD.

It was something else.

We sent a little help to your house.

Help? If that thing in there was a little help to me, then it could be… my eyes widened, and my mouth dropped open.

“Now, I have to see what you have in there, Maisie Hawthorne.”