Dubious

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Dubious Page 24

by Charmaine Pauls


  “By far.”

  I lean an elbow on the counter and check out the board with the rates for neutering and vaccinations. “My housekeeper buys it for my cat. I don’t know the brand, but I thought I’d get the same.”

  Her eyes flare for the briefest of seconds before she narrows them. “Your housekeeper is a clever girl.”

  “She sure is, but she should’ve told me she’s paying for the food out of her own pocket.”

  “Maybe she couldn’t, because she knows you don’t care much for your cat.”

  The lady with the Doberman is watching us, her head bobbing between the vet and me.

  “It’s true. I don’t care for the hair that he sheds in my house or the fact that he tears my curtains to pieces, but my housekeeper seems to like him, so here’s the deal. I’ll open an account and send a driver once a month to collect the food.” I point at the large breed dog food of the same brand. “You can throw in a couple of bags of that, as well.”

  It almost looks as if she’s going to refuse me, but the state of her waiting room tells me she needs the business. After a moment of measuring me, she says, “I’ll take down your details.”

  She writes my address and phone number down in a book. In this day and age, nobody uses a book, not even my most unsophisticated loan sharks. She has a patient waiting, and me taking a chunk of her consultation time. What she needs is a computer and an assistant. No wonder she’s operating in a run-down building, charging fees lower than the going rate.

  I tap my fingers on the countertop as she scribbles down my order. “You should go electronic.”

  She lifts her head to give me a cutting look. “I’ll upgrade when I can afford it.”

  I don’t blame her for hating me. What makes her different than the rest of the world? In any event, I’m not out to win anyone’s love. I can forget about getting information on Valentina’s emotional state of late from this woman. She won’t give me a glass of water if I’m dying.

  She slams the book closed. “Are we done?”

  I let the sunglasses fall back over my eyes. “For now.”

  Saluting her, I take the food and walk to the door. The Doberman whines as I pass her owner who leans as far away from me as she can without falling out of her chair.

  * * *

  Valentina

  This lasagna can’t flop. I’m so engrossed in letting the white sauce thicken without forming lumps that I don’t notice Rhett until he’s right next to me. Startled, I drop the whisk. It bounces on the stovetop, rolls off the edge, and hits the ground. It’s the first time he’s set foot in the kitchen since I arrived. He bends down to retrieve the whisk and rinses it under the tap before handing it back to me.

  “Thank you.” I use my left hand to stir the sauce.

  He motions at the bandage on my thumb. “How’s the hand?”

  “Good, thank you.”

  He gives a wry smile. “I didn’t get a chance to apologize for driving you to the Joburg Gen. If I had any idea the place was that bad, I would’ve gone directly to the clinic.”

  “You did what I asked.”

  “I wasn’t thinking straight. I saw the blood and kind of blanked out.”

  I can’t help but smile. “You? Seriously?”

  He lifts his palms in a gesture of surrender. “It wasn’t the blood as much as it was you. I thought Gabriel was going to kill me.”

  “For what?”

  “It happened on my shift.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Wouldn’t have mattered. I was the messenger.”

  I stop stirring to look at him. “I’m sorry if I got you into trouble.”

  He grins. “Not as much trouble as you got yourself into. No more kitchen accidents, okay?”

  “I’ll do my best.” I return my attention to the sauce.

  He leans on the counter and crosses his ankles. “I was thinking of getting you a puppy.”

  “A puppy?”

  “I already cleared it with Gabriel.” He shifts his weight around. “I can get you one of those fluffy dogs women like. A Maltese Poodle or something.”

  “I don’t want a dog.”

  He looks disappointed. “Why not?”

  “I’ve lost enough. I don’t want to care about another dog.”

  He uncrosses his ankles and crosses his arms, not meeting my eyes.

  When he doesn’t speak, but doesn’t leave either, I remove the sauce from the heat, and turn to face him squarely. “Why did you shoot Puff, Rhett?”

  His chest expands, as if he’s taking a breath, and when he lifts his gaze again, he regards me with a level stare. “I didn’t want to leave the dog to fend for himself on the streets.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve seen enough of dogs to know that mongrel wasn’t going to make it on his own. Leaving him would’ve meant a drawn-out, cruel death of starvation.”

  “Leaving him?”

  His voice takes on a quiet tone. “When we broke into your flat that morning, it was with explicit orders.”

  The blood drains from my head, leaving me with a fuzzy feeling. Rhett was certain we weren’t going to get out alive, neither Charlie nor me. Oh, my God. Gabriel wasn’t there just for Charlie. He was going to kill us both. I put the information away in the back of my mind to deal with later. Alone.

  “I don’t know why Gabriel changed his mind, but I can assure you, it’s never happened before.”

  My laugh is forced. “My mother used to say I have a guardian angel. Maybe she was right.”

  “If it’ll make you feel better, Gabriel fucked me up good for killing your dog.”

  “That day you came out of the gym with a broken nose.”

  “Yep. Look, I’ll sleep a whole lot better if you’ll let me get you that dog.”

  The look he gives me is so remorseful that my compassion wins over my vengeance over Puff. Logically, I understand why he did it. It doesn’t make it right or better, but I’m not in a position to deny anyone redemption. I’m still chasing after absolution for what happened to Charlie. Wiping my hands on my apron, I consider his proposal. Another living being will only make me more vulnerable than what I already am, because that’s what caring for someone or something does.

  “I don’t want a dog. I want you to train me.”

  He looks at me like I lost my mind. “What?”

  “Teach me self-defense. We can practice in the gym.”

  “Gabriel will kill me.”

  “Not if he doesn’t know. We can do it when he’s out.”

  “It’s a crazy idea, Valentina.”

  “Is it? Have you ever stood helpless while men took the money you busted your ass for? Have you ever been held down and violated, unable to do a goddamn thing about it?”

  He averts his eyes, unable to hold mine.

  “Please, Rhett. I’m not going to use it against anyone in this house. I’m not stupid. I just don’t want to feel helpless any longer.”

  He swallows. “Ask me anything else. If Gabriel finds out––”

  “He won’t, not unless you tell him.”

  He looks at me again, a war waging in his eyes. Finally, it’s his guilt that wins out. “Fine, but not a word to anyone, not even Quincy.”

  “All right.”

  He straightens from the counter, but his shoulders sag. “I’ll let you know when the coast is clear.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Consider us even.” There’s a hint of apprehension and even fear in his expression as he walks from the room.

  * * *

  Gabriel

  The report from Anton only confirms what I already know. No one knows anything about Valentina’s rape. I drop the pen on my desk and rub my tired eyes. I’m not surprised Marvin didn’t go to the police. His family was shamed. The way he would’ve dealt with the crime was to avenge his daughter’s stolen innocence by killing the man responsible. Since he died in the same year she was assaulted, I’m not sure he got around to it. Is that
why Lambert abandoned his promised fiancée? Because she was spoiled goods? Find the bastard who raped her I will, but for now I have a bigger priority––Magda’s threat.

  Never underestimate Magda. I know what she’s capable of better than anyone. If I don’t kill Valentina, she will do it, and as punishment for my disobedience she’ll do it in a way that will hurt me. I’m not shy about my habits. My mother knows I fuck like some people take up a hobby. She knows I’m territorial and the most possessive bastard on the face of the earth. She knows me well enough to understand that the thought of another man’s hands on Valentina will drive me to my knees, especially after what I did to Diogo. Valentina’s death is a place I can’t even go. If Magda has to finish the job for me, Valentina will most likely suffer gang rape followed by a horrendous and slow death of torture. I have to find a way to keep her, but there’s nowhere I can hide her where Magda’s network of business associates won’t find her. And then there’s Charlie. What do I do with him? Where do I keep him safe? I made a deal with Valentina and, knowing how much Charlie means to her, this is one I intend to honor. Every problem has a solution. I just have to look hard enough.

  Seeing that I have precious little time, I should be searching for a way to keep my beautiful toy, not slamming my study door, and stalking the hallway like a crazed man, my steps taking me where they always do, Valentina’s room. It’s late. Magda and Carly have long since gone to bed, but I still keep a watchful eye.

  Just a few minutes. I need a break to clear my mind. Chasing improbable solutions to escape Magda’s promise has sent me in circles like a dog chasing his own tail. I need to hold her, see her, taste her, breathe her, to calm the clawing fear of losing her.

  When I walk into her bedroom, she steps from the bathroom, her hair wet and her body damp. She stops in the doorframe. The bandage is dry. Good. The last thing I want is more worry. I need her too much.

  For a few seconds, we have a stare-down, each one of us waiting for the other to make a move. There are a million things I can do with her. I should punish her for this morning’s obstinance when she gave me the cold shoulder, but I won’t touch her like that when she’s injured. I haven’t yet made up my mind when she closes the distance between us, placing her delicate body in front of mine like a vulnerable white pawn in the path of the black stallion’s hooves. The position is a physical reminder of the difference in power between us. I can throw her on the bed and eat her pussy from the inside out, I can fuck every hole in her body, or kiss her until she can’t breathe. She’s mine to do with as I please. I overcompensated for my looks by becoming a master of physical pleasure. I can’t give her a pretty face, but I can make her scream with orgasms until there’s not a breath of air left in her lungs.

  Her hands reach for my shirt. I’m curious. Is she going to undress me? She grips the edges of the fabric above the first button and yanks them apart. Fuck dammit. There’s a tearing sound and buttons flying everywhere. She goes up on her toes to push the shirt over my shoulders, but the sleeves get stuck on my upper arms. Abandoning her efforts with the shirt, she focuses on my belt instead, her fingers fumbling with the buckle.

  My heart is beating like the hooves of that dark horse she unleashed, and I’m frightened that the beast will crush her when he lets his passion rein free, but I’m too weak to stop her. Finally managing to pull the leather from the loops of my waistband, she folds it double and pushes it into my hand. It’s there in her eyes, what she wants me to do. The brown of her irises is mud-stained and murky, like a dam after a landslide.

  Under normal circumstances, I’d tie her up and give her what she wants, spank her while I fuck her, but it hasn’t been a normal week. When I don’t move, she cups my balls and squeezes them through my pants. Her tongue is hot and wet on my stomach, licking a line of molten lava up my chest. Her small teeth latch onto my nipple. I jerk when she bites. Bloody hell. She lets go to bite into the muscle of my pec, then pulls back to study the marks she left on my skin. Her hands snake around my neck, pulling me down to her lips. The nip she gives my bottom lip draws blood. Her nails dig into my scalp. She kisses me like a mad woman, moaning and rubbing her body against mine.

  As suddenly as she grabbed me, she lets go, falling back onto the bed with open thighs. Her pussy is ripe for me, wet and swollen. I follow as if she’s got me on a tight leash, but before I can straddle her she rolls over and gets up on her knees, offering her ass and pussy. It is a sight so alluring I almost lose my reason. I don’t move my eyes from the clean-shaved triangle between her legs as I kick off my shoes and almost tear the zipper to get out of my pants. I take no more than a second to pull off my socks. Gripping her hips hard, I drag her to the edge of the bed, placing her where I need her.

  “Take me, Gabriel. Take me hard.” I’m about to do exactly that when she says, “Make it hurt. Make it hurt really bad.”

  My lust jerks to a halt. I get off on hurting her, but her pain ultimately brings us both pleasure. I’m using pain to train to her body to need me, but I won’t allow her to use physical pain to escape her feelings. That’s reserved for monsters like me, and I have no intention of turning her into a monster. I need her sweet and innocent. I need her for who she is.

  She looks at me from over her shoulder. “Gabriel.”

  Her cry is a plea while her eyes are filled with fear––fear that I won’t oblige. There aren’t many things I’ll deny her, but this I won’t give.

  “Gabriel!”

  Her tiny hand folds around my shaft. I’m so hard I scarcely feel the pressure of her fingers as she guides me to her asshole. I know how an ass fuck without proper preparation feels for a woman. I made my lovers describe every sensation to me in detail. The fact that she wants this shows me how badly she’s hurting inside.

  “Fuck me already if you’re a man.”

  I know what she’s trying to do. “Provocation isn’t going to work with me, beautiful.”

  Grabbing her around the waist with one arm, I shift her up the mattress. When I go down on my side, I bring her body with me, pressing her back to my chest.

  “Fuck you, Gabriel!”

  She struggles in all earnest, trying to break free, but I trap her in the constraint of my arms.

  “Let me go!”

  I hold her in place and plant the gentlest of kisses in her neck.

  “No! Don’t you dare.”

  I kiss her ear, her hair, and her temple with a soft brush of my lips. “You’re so beautiful, Valentina. Have I ever told you that?”

  Her voice breaks. “Please, don’t.”

  I throw my leg over hers, confining her kicking legs while I push her upper body into the mattress to kiss her spine. Sobs shake her body, but I kiss every vertebra, working my way to the curve of her ass and back up.

  “Not like this,” she cries. “Not gently. Not like you care.”

  I give her all the tenderness I’m capable of, stroking my fingers over her firm ass and between her legs, testing her folds. She’s wet. Always ready for me, just like I trained her. When I direct my cock to her entrance, she starts fighting me again, wiggling her upper body, and kicking with her legs. All I can do is hold her shoulders down with my arms and keep her legs trapped between mine while I enter her slick body, inch by slow inch until she’s taken all of me. She’s so hot and tight she makes me dizzy. With her thighs pressed together the friction is too much. With every stroke, I risk coming like an inexperienced adolescent.

  “I hate you.” Her words are muffled by the pillow, but her body is already rocking with mine. “Why can’t you do it? Why don’t you hurt me?”

  I won’t cut her air, I won’t bury my cock in her ass, and I won’t take my belt to her. It’s my business to understand her needs, and what she needs right now is to be loved.

  “Why didn’t you kill me, Gabriel?”

  I still. “What are you talking about?”

  She turns her face to the side. “Rhett told me.”

  That fucker.

&
nbsp; “That’s why he shot my dog,” she whispers. “We weren’t supposed to make it out alive.”

  I start moving again, trying to still her with our pleasure, but she won’t let it go.

  There are tears in her voice. “Why Gabriel? Tell me, damn you.”

  “Because I wanted you,” I grit out.

  She pushes her ass up against my groin. “Is it this? You needed a fuck?”

  I thrust deeper, making her moan. “You know why.”

  “You spared my life to make me your whore.”

  “Not my whore.” I kiss the soft, golden skin of her shoulder. “My property.”

  “What’s the difference?” she asks bitterly.

  The difference is that property belongs. I find her lips, kissing her like she’s mine, trying to show her that however much I trained her to need me, I need her in equal quantity. This time, she doesn’t resist the gentleness of my touch. She kisses me back, our rhythm slow and revering. I glide my body over hers, the slickness of my sweat-damp skin making the friction smooth. The movement drives my shaft deeper. I feel her on every inch of me. A deep groan tears from my chest.

  Goddammit, this is heaven. My balls pull up into my groin, and sharp needles pierce into the base of my spine. Fuck, not yet. I want to last. I still for a moment to bite back the pleasure. I drag my hands over her hair and down her shoulders, over the soft curves where her breasts are pressed flat against the mattress. She’s soft and resilient and so much woman. I revel in invading her body, making her secrets and feelings mine. I push as deep as I can go, until my cock hits a barrier. A small gasp escapes her lips. I must be pushing against her cervix. Carefully, I ease back and push again. She throws her head back and whimpers, her moans changing from cries of defiance to need. Just a bit deeper and I’d touch the place in her body where miracles happen, where a child can grow from a seed in her womb. The only thing more beautiful than a woman is a pregnant woman. When your seed takes root in her womb and her breasts grow plump with the wonder of new life as her belly expands with your child, you want to love her and fuck her with your child growing between you. Valentina will scare me with the rawness of her beauty as motherhood changes her.

 

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