Dubious

by Charmaine Pauls

  “This move is child’s play, perky tits. You’ve got a far way to go before you can handle my worst.”

  “Okay, short dick.” I hold out my hand for him to help me up.

  He only laughs at the diminutive name. When he’s halfway in the motion of pulling me up, I yank hard, using the momentum to bring him down to the floor. He does a graceful shoulder roll and flips his leg over me, pinning me face down on the mat.

  He chuckles. “You’ve got spirit, I’ll give you that, perky tits.”

  “Fuck you, short dick.”

  “Wanna see? You’ll take back your words.”

  “No thanks. Kicking you in the balls when your pants are around your ankles won’t be fair play.”

  He laughs again. “Yep, you’re funny.” He gets to his feet and pulls me up by my arm. “We’ll start with some basic defense moves, and when you’ve gotten the hang of them, I’ll teach you how to use an attacker’s strength to beat him.”

  The minute I’m up, I kick at his feet like he did with me, but he catches my leg, holding me captive.

  “You’re a quick learner, and you’ve got more courage than brains, but let me do the teaching. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  I hop around on one foot to keep my balance. “It’ll take a bit more than that.”

  “As I said, more courage than brains. You’re small. You’ve got to learn to fight clever.”

  “Okay.”

  He releases me. “Ready?”

  For the next hour, he drills me. By the time he calls it a day, I’m sweating.

  “You better have a shower. Gabriel will be home soon.”

  “I want to learn to use a gun, too.”

  He props his hands on his hips and regards me from under his eyebrows. “Valentina.”

  “It’s a big, bad world out there. I won’t live here forever.”

  After a moment, he sighs and shakes his head. “In for a penny, in for a pound.”

  I’m happy with my progress. Finally, I’m getting out of my vulnerable bubble. There’s just enough time to shower before Gabriel enters my room.

  He walks up and stops flush against my back. “How was your weekend?”

  “Good.”

  He pushes my hair aside and kisses my neck. “We’re having a dinner party at home on Tuesday. It’ll be a late night.”

  “Okay. Do you have a menu in mind?”

  “Magda will brief you. It’s important to her.” He doesn’t need to say more. He wants me on my best behavior. “Don’t forget your checkup tomorrow.”

  I dress the wound religiously, but it’s still red and puffy.

  He puts his arms around my waist and pulls my back against his chest. “Bend over and put your hands on the wall.”

  His tone is clipped, like when he’s desperate and can’t wait. My body grows deliciously warm and wet. I bend my back and brace myself on the wall. He lifts my skirt up over my waist and jerks my panties down. The metal clang of his belt sounds in the room, followed by the scratchy pull of his zipper. His cock pushes against my folds. Without warning he plunges forward, impaling me in one, hard thrust. My back arches from the friction.

  “Fuck, Valentina.” He holds still, either to give my body time to stretch around his too large penis or to get a hold on his control.

  “Take me as you want,” I pant, unable to keep still for much longer.

  “Oh, I will.”

  Gripping my hips between his palms, he pulls out almost all the way and slams back in. Pleasure ripples through my womb. He wastes no time in working me up to a climax, fucking me hard. When I come, it’s explosive, but so is his release. He grunts and keeps going until his cock is too soft to stay inside me. Only when his shaft slips out does he go on his knees and suck my clit into his mouth. It’s impossible to come again so soon, but he’s relentless. He has his teeth on my clit and his fingers in my pussy and ass. Our sounds mingle until there’s only the unique blend of our moans in the room. He makes me come again in his mouth, driving me to the edge of pleasure. My legs can’t carry my weight. When I collapse, he catches me around the waist and carries me to bed. He holds me until it’s dark outside, and then he fucks me on my back and on my hands and knees until my throat is hoarse from screaming. My body is depleted. I can’t give him any more, but I want more from him. I’m insatiable, and he’s to blame.

  My heart aches with something I can’t name when he leaves me. I lie in the dark until I can’t suffer it any longer. There’s only one thing to do. I sneak through the dark house to his room. He’s standing in the doorframe, waiting, as if he expected me. Jumping into his arms, I cling to him. I’m a stranger to myself, not understanding this woman who can’t breathe without her captor. He wraps his arms around my ass to hold me up and kisses me long and sweet. Gently, he lies me down on the bed, pulling me to his chest. Only then, safe and happy, do I fall into an exhausted sleep.

  * * *

  The doctor’s appointment is at four the following day. As I get ready, Gabriel calls me on the internal intercom and summons me to his room. If we don’t leave soon we’ll be late. Why does he want to see me now? Before I can knock, he opens the door. I freeze with my hand midway in the air. A disposable sheet is laid out on the daybed, and a gurney with monitors and scanners stands next to it. The same doctor from before, Samuel Engelbrecht, waits in the room. I look at Gabriel for answers, but he says nothing. He only pulls me inside and closes the door.

  “Undress and lie down,” the doctor says.

  I assumed I was going to see the doctor who operated on me at the clinic, and what Gabriel’s doctor demands doesn’t make sense. “You need me to undress to examine my finger?”

  Gabriel takes my hand. “After what you told me, I want to make sure you’re all right. You could’ve suffered internal injuries you’re not aware of.”

  A blush works its way up my neck, warming my cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to stress you.”

  I pull my hand from his. “This isn’t necessary.”

  His eyes turn hard. “Get your clothes off, or I’ll take them off for you.”

  I’m so humiliated I don’t know where to look. I don’t doubt for a minute Gabriel will execute his threat. Angry tears burn in my eyes as I turn my back on them and pull off my trainers, uniform, and underwear. Draping my clothes over the armrest of the chair, I lie down on the daybed.

  The doctor approaches with a probe. “Bend your legs.”

  I do so grudgingly, avoiding Gabriel’s eyes. The doctor pulls a condom over the probe, lubricates it with gel, and inserts it gently in my vagina. The scanner beeps to life. He says nothing as he examines me. He only gives Gabriel a nod when he pulls the probe free. My abdomen is next. I am not sure what he’s looking for, and I can’t imagine why Gabriel wants to know if the rape damaged my body. After the ultrasound, the doctor takes my blood pressure and weighs me. It’s when he brings a needle to my arm that I start protesting again.

  “What’s that?”

  Gabriel takes my wrist, brushing his thumb over my pulse. “It’s a vitamin boost.”

  “I don’t need it.”

  “I told you already, your health is my responsibility.”

  There’s a note of steel in his voice. He’ll hold me down if he has to. I don’t have a choice but to accept the injection and whatever is in it.

  With the injection done, the doctor lets me get dressed and makes me sit on the bed to examine my finger. His face is blank, but he stares at the wound for a long time.

  “I’m going to prescribe a stronger antibiotic. I want to see you every day.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “A small infection,” he says, as if talking to a child. “You’ve got to keep it still. Don’t use the hand.”

  I bandaged it tightly when I wrestled with Rhett, and we were careful. I’m also cautious with the housework.

  The doctor looks at Gabriel. “Any chance you can keep her still for a couple of weeks?”r />
  The set of Gabriel’s jaw is enough to give us the answer. Magda will never let him.

  “Well, then.” The doctor starts gathering his equipment. “Tomorrow same time?”

  “Yes,” Gabriel says.

  When he’s gone, I gather the courage to confront Gabriel. “Why?”

  “Don’t make me repeat answers I already gave you.”

  “Isn’t he going to take his apparatus?” I motion at the gurney with the monitors.

  “It’ll stay here for a while.”

  “What are you doing, Gabriel?”

  He cups my cheek. “Looking after you.”

  When he pulls my head to his chest, I can’t resist. I can only melt against him, letting his erratic heartbeat seduce me into thinking he actually cares about more than my body.

  * * *

  From the careful menu planning it’s obvious that Tuesday night’s dinner is important to Magda. She chooses a caviar mousse starter followed by salmon and spinach crumble with sweet pastries for dessert. I pay special attention to the cooking, ensuring I do nothing to jeopardize our deal. I twist my hair into a neat bun in the nape of my neck and scrub my nails, which are stained orange from the curry I often cook with. The mousse has just set when Magda rings the bell for me to serve. Balancing a tray on one hand, I push the swing door to the dining room open with my shoulder. Looking up, I freeze on the spot. The man sitting opposite Gabriel is the one from Rosebank, the one with the Ferrari. Next to him sits a pretty redhead with freckles on her nose.

  “Valentina!” Michael jumps to his feet and holds the door for me to pass.

  Gabriel goes rigid. Magda’s mouth turns down, her Pit Bull eyes drooping in the corners.

  “You know each other?” Gabriel asks, his ice blue eyes narrowed on me.

  “We met on Sunday.” Michael takes his seat again. “She wouldn’t give me her number.” He takes the redhead’s hand and smiles. “Seems the fairy godmother of fate is still doing her job.”

  “Valentina isn’t available,” Gabriel replies coldly. He turns to me. “Where exactly did you meet?”

  I clear my throat. “In Rosebank.”

  “What were you doing there?”

  What I do with my free time is none of his business, and his jealous attitude is unwarranted and unreasonable, but Magda can still put a bullet in my head for back chatting or dropping a spoon, so I answer obediently. “I went to El Torro to buy the chorizo.”

  “I went to El Torro to pick up a bottle of Magda’s favorite wine,” Michael says. “You see? Divine intervention.”

  “She’s below your class,” Magda says. “We picked her up in Berea.”

  I walk around the table, serving the people who talk about me as if I’m not in the room. I want to dump the mousse on their laps. Charlie. Think about Charlie.

  “I don’t care where she’s from,” the woman says. “We’re not snobbish that way.”

  She has a rock of a diamond on her ring finger. She must be Michael’s wife. Are they into threesomes? I can’t get out of the room fast enough. In the kitchen, I inhale and exhale to control my anger. I’m sick of being looked at as a piece of meat.

  For the rest of the dinner, the stress mounts every time I step into the dining room. Michael gawks openly while his wife pays me compliments on my physical appearance. Magda is red in the face with annoyance. The one who scares me most is Gabriel. He’s quiet. Quiet is never good.

  By the time I serve the pastries in the lounge, my stomach aches with tension. My hope of escaping is squashed when Gabriel calls me back as I’m about to exit.

  “Valentina.” There’s authority in his voice. “Come here.”

  Four sets of eyes are watching me. Magda sits on a single chair at the short side of the coffee table. Her stare is both scornful and hopeful. She hopes I’ll disobey. The consequences should be fun to watch. Michael looks on with open curiosity while his wife has a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. My gaze locks with Gabriel’s. In silent instruction, he takes a cushion from the armchair and throws it on the floor next to his feet. I don’t have a choice. I walk over to him, the tightness in my stomach growing with every step. As I’ve done so many times before, I sit down next to him. A smile of approval warms his face. He looks at me as if he sees no one else. He cups my cheek and tilts my head to rest on his thigh. Then our brief, private moment is over. Gabriel continues his conversation in a businesslike manner while playing absently with my hair.

  Magda looks like a puffed-up dragon about to spit fire. Michael and his wife are obviously used to this kind of behavior. My posture on the floor while Gabriel pets me doesn’t take up more of their attention, except for the occasional envious glance Michael shoots Gabriel.

  While they’re discussing a lease contract for new business premises, Gabriel feeds me sips of champagne. When the tray with sweet pastries is passed around, he takes his time to study the selection and chooses a mille-feuille that he pops into my mouth. His thumb lingers on my tongue. After I’ve chewed and swallowed, he wipes the icing from the corner of my mouth before licking his finger clean, giving the action his full attention. There’s a smile in his eyes as he looks down at me. Again, we’re sharing a moment the other three people in the room aren’t part of.

  After the dessert, he swaps the champagne for whiskey. I’m not a big drinker. Already buzzing from the champagne, I shake my head when he presses the glass to my lips, but his fingers tighten in my hair, pulling back to arch my neck. He takes a drink from the glass and brings his mouth down to mine. I only understand his intention when he spears my lips with his tongue, forcing them open, and feeds me the whiskey straight from his mouth. I gulp and swallow in shocked surprise. He keeps my head in place to drag his tongue over my bottom lip, licking it clean. Only then does he let go of my hair. My face is ablaze with embarrassment. If Mr. and Mrs. Michael find it shocking, they don’t show it. Only Magda shifts around on her seat. When Gabriel brings the glass to my lips the second time, I open without argument. Being force-fed in front of his mother and friends isn’t an experience I’d like to repeat. It’s as if Gabriel is making a point by demonstrating his ownership of me.

  At the end of the evening, and three glasses of champagne and a whiskey later, I’ve gone from a buzz to feeling tipsy. I’m aware of what’s happening around me, but I’m seeing double, and my nose is numb. I’m also extremely lethargic. I’m grateful when Michael gets to his feet and announces their departure.

  He saunters over to us. “May I kiss the lady, Gabriel?”

  Gabriel puts a broad hand on my shoulder. “You may not.”

  He makes a face of mock disappointment. “I understand. I would act the same if she was mine. You make me long for a sub again.”

  “She’s not a sub,” Magda bites out. “She’s property.”

  Michael sighs, barely sparing Magda a glance. His eyes find mine. “Even better.”

  His wife crosses the floor to lean her head on Michael’s shoulder. “If you ever grow tired of her, Gabriel, let us know. I’ll be happy to offer her a position.”

  “That won’t happen,” Gabriel says through thin lips. “She’s too valuable to me.”

  “You mean her debt is too high,” Magda corrects, her glare communicating something with Gabriel I don’t understand.

  Michael pats Gabriel’s shoulder. “Well, goodnight my good man. Next time dinner is at our place.” He looks at me. “You should bring your…”

  Property. Toy. Four hundred thousand rand-asset.

  “Maid,” Magda says.

  Gabriel gets to his feet. “I’ll walk you out.” He addresses me with a single command. “Stay.”

  While Gabriel and Magda see their guests off, I remain as Gabriel ordered. My head is spinning, and I’m not in the mood for punishment tonight. When they return, Gabriel’s shoulders are tense, and Magda’s mouth is pulled into a hard line.

  “Goodnight, Magda,” he says pointedly.

  Magda isn’t that easily dismissed. “You
embarrassed me. I won’t tolerate this kind of behavior in front of our guests.”

  Gabriel smirks. “They didn’t seem embarrassed to me.”

  “I’ll remind you this is my house.”

  “You insisted we live here.”

  “For security reasons. There are a hundred or more people who’d have your head on a plate.”

  “Agreed. It’s easier protecting us all under one roof. That doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do. As you said yourself, I’m not twelve any longer.”

  Her nostrils flare. “Are you dealing with what we talked about?”

  “I am.”

  “How long?”

  “Soon.”

  She regards him for a moment in silence. I’m half relieved when she stalks from the room. The other half of me tenses now that I’m alone with Gabriel. His mood is dark. Is he going to punish me? He offers me a hand and pulls me to my feet. My legs are stiff from sitting in the same position for hours, and I stumble, crushing into his chest.

  “Sorry,” I mumble. Oh, God. My tongue is slurring.

  He sets me on my feet with his hands on my hips, testing my balance before he lets go. When I manage to stand without falling over, he steps aside and points at the door. Interpreting it as my cue to leave, I take a few steps, but I have to hold onto the furniture to walk straight. I don’t make it to the sofa before his hands stop me. With one arm around my shoulders and the other under my knees, he scoops me up and carries me to the stairs.

  “The kitchen,” I protest, pointing in the opposite direction.

  His chest rumbles with his deep voice. “The kitchen can wait.”

  In front of his bedroom, he fumbles with his doorknob. When the door swings open, he carries me inside and kicks it shut. The medical equipment is still there. I vaguely wonder when the doctor is going to send for it.

  Lying me down on the bed, he undresses me and then himself. His body is hard and rough, the broken lines and deep scars adding to his masculine, forbidden beauty. He climbs over me, pinning my arms above my head. The alcohol loosens my inhibitions. This is not a good idea. I may do and say things I’ll regret in the morning.