Dubious: The Loan Shark Duet (Book 1) Read online

He studies my breasts with new interest, taking both into his hands. “They’re bigger.” He jiggles them, making me groan with the discomfort. “And heavier.” His hands move down my sides to my hips, and over my swollen stomach. “When’s your period due?”

  “Tomorrow.” I shake a little when I say it. After that, the birth control will be effective, and nothing will prevent him from taking the final step.

  He eases up then, setting my body free. “Maybe the water will do you good.”

  It does. We swim a few laps and just drift around without talking. By the time we get out, my skin is wrinkled. Gabriel fetches towels from the pool house and covers me with one on a deckchair. For a few blissful moments, I forget my circumstances and simply enjoy the rays of the setting sun on my face. I’ve never been alone with him in the house. There’s less tension when no one else is around.

  When it starts to get cool, he carries me inside and lies me down on my bed. Like every night he came to my room, he makes me come. He’s gentle, avoiding my sore breasts and swollen abdomen. Afterward, he lets me take him in my mouth and stays with me for another hour.

  Does he hold other women like this? Does he go out to fuck someone after he’s been with me? I’ve never seen another female in the house except for the woman in his study, but that doesn’t mean he’s celibate. Maybe he entertains his women elsewhere to protect Carly. For all I know, he has a girlfriend. Maybe it’s the woman I saw. Maybe he’s fucking her brains out every night after he leaves my room. Our silence is no longer amiable.

  I can’t help myself from asking, “Are you sleeping with someone?”

  His chest vibrates against my back with a chuckle. “Does it matter?”

  If the ache in my ribs is anything to go by, yes, it does, but I’d die before admitting it. “Just wondering.” Hell, I don’t even sound convincing to myself.

  “Her name is Helga.”

  Humph. It’s like he punches the wind out of me with a fist in the stomach. I wanted to know, and now I regret asking. I especially don’t want to know her name. Pain lances at me from all directions, rendering me vulnerable. Jealousy mounts in my chest.

  “She’s the woman you saw in my study. That’s what you’re really asking, isn’t it?”

  Now that it’s out, I may as well go the full nine yards and let myself hurt thoroughly. Maybe the ache will dampen my need for Gabriel. “Did you sleep with her?”

  “Yes.” After a moment, he continues, “But I haven’t fucked her since you arrived.”

  Something gives in my torso, like an elastic band that snaps. Stupidly, I feel like crying. Correction, I feel like bawling. Damn PMS. “It doesn’t matter.”

  His laugh is knowing. “Of course not.”

  “Why haven’t you slept with her?” I hold my breath for something I can’t name.

  “I don’t want to.”

  But he may. Gabriel is the kind of man who takes what he wants, not by force, but by making your own body betray you, by stealing your will and breaking every one of your good intentions, leaving you with a hole only he can fill. Where I’m aching now, only his cock can fill the empty feeling. It’s twisted. He made me want him––need him––like I need water, while he can walk away on a whim, whenever he doesn’t want me. There’ll come a day I’ll be the next Helga, a day he won’t come to my room to make me come, just because he doesn’t want to any longer. He’s an asshole, and I hate myself for being affected.

  “You’re quiet,” he muses. “If you’re tired, I’ll let you sleep.”

  Longing for solitude so I can curl into a ball, I let the lie spill from my lips. “That’ll be kind.”

  My heart drops when his weight lifts from the mattress. With a chaste kiss on my forehead, he walks from my room. Finally, I have the solitude I demanded, but I’m utterly and miserably lonely.

  * * *

  On Monday morning, Magda awaits me in the kitchen with shocking news. Marie had a stroke.

  “You’ll take over the menu planning,” she says, “and the cooking. Run it past me to approve.” She points at the computer in the corner. “You’ll find the budget and supermarkets that deliver on the system.”

  “Will she be all right?”

  “I don’t know. Her daughter will let me know. It’s mighty inconvenient, though, seeing we have a formal business dinner at the house on Friday. Oh, you’ll have to see to the catering and serving. I’ll email the menu to the kitchen computer. I’m only expecting two or three guests.” She writes a code on the message pad. “Here’s the password.”

  She’s halfway to the door before I find the courage to speak. “I’m not sure I can manage.”

  She twirls around to narrow her eyes at me. “Do you have a problem?”

  “The cleaning and cooking…it’s a lot for one person. It’s not that I’m not willing, but it’s a big house. I don’t want to neglect one or the other.”

  “Then make sure you don’t.” Her lips thin into a smile. “Your life depends on it.”

  I stare at her back as she leaves the kitchen. I hate the haughty clack of her heels as much as I detest the traffic cone color of her lipstick. She may look down on me because I’m poor and treat me like a slave because she owns nine years of my life, but when those nine years are over, I’ll never take an order from her again. I’ll take Charlie and move to another town, a city where the Louws don’t rule. Allowing the intention to strengthen my resolve, I switch on the computer and wait for it to boot up so I can place the grocery order for the day.

  * * *

  Monday and Tuesday pass in a blur. I wangle some sort of schedule, vacuuming only every second day and ironing later at night. By Tuesday evening, we get an update from Marie’s daughter, stating that she won’t be back at work for at least six months. Since I don’t know Marie’s recipes, I don’t have a choice but to change the menu. What I know is more my late mother’s Mediterranean style. I find a small, local producer of fresh produce, which turns out not only to be organic, but also cheaper. The fruit and vegetables aren’t pretty, but they’re tasty. I also order less cleaning products. I can wash a floor just as well with a bit of vinegar in water than with an expensive product that smells like a summer orchard, but has been tested on animals. The result is a thirty-percent saving on the weekly grocery bill.

  The new work pace is strenuous. On top of that, my period arrived right on time. I’ve always suffered from a heavy flow that leaves me feeling weak. I order an iron supplement with my personal deliveries to boost me for the big night on Friday. The last thing I want is to fail my first dinner party test when my life depends on it.

  Despite my period, Gabriel still comes to me at night, but instead of bringing me to the earthshattering climaxes I got used to, he fondles my body with backrubs and massages. It’s strange and out of character for him, not that he’s predictable. The more Magda pushes me, the kinder Gabriel acts toward me, which infuriates Magda. It’s a vicious circle between the two of them, and I’m caught in the middle.

  Carly is cool but not completely unfriendly since she got to go out on her date. Sebastian is allowed to visit her at home with her grandmother or father’s supervision, but as Gabriel is always out during the day, it’s mostly Magda who keeps an eye on the lovebirds.

  On Wednesday, Carly is alone by the pool. When I pick up her towel to put it in the wash, I notice she left her iPad outside again, something she does often. I take it with the intention to put it away in the house, but as I reach the sliding doors, Quincy’s voice stops me.

  “Hey, Val. Look, Bruno’s all better.”

  Bruno runs on a leash with Quincy, the limp gone. The dog barks and wags his tail furiously when I approach. Leaving the iPad on the wall, I go down on my haunches and get a sloppy dog kiss.

  I laugh, wiping my face with the back of my hand. “Glad to see you’re back in shape, boy.”

  “Thanks, again.”

  “I’m glad I could help.” I straighten and glance over my shoulder at the house. “I better
get back. Lots to do.”

  “Yeah.” He looks uncomfortable. “Are you coping?”

  “Sure.”

  “Valentina,” Magda says from the door, her condescending stare resting on Quincy and me as if she caught us making out or something, “if you’ve finished socializing, we need to talk about Friday’s menu.”

  “Bye, Bruno.” I stroke his back and smile at Quincy in greeting.

  His eyes are hard as he directs them to the door where Magda waits with her hands on her hips, but I don’t give it further thought as I hurry inside.

  * * *

  It’s not until the following morning when Carly makes a ruckus at breakfast about her missing iPad that I remember leaving it outside.

  Magda summons me to the dining room. At first, I’m in the dark when Carly points a finger at me and exclaims, “She took it. It was there last night, and now it’s gone.”

  “Did you take Carly’s iPad?” Magda asks. “Don’t bother lying, because I’ll be going through your room myself.”

  My insides freeze, remembering where I left it. They go even colder when I look at Gabriel. He’s regarding me with a frown. He believes I stole it? Hurt lances into my heart. Why does it matter what he thinks?

  “Well?” Magda asks with a flick of her penciled eyebrow.

  “I meant to bring it in last night, but I got distracted and forgot it on the wall.”

  “Distracted with Quincy,” Magda says snidely.

  A thunderous expression darkens Gabriel’s face. Of the three people in the room, right now, I’m most scared of him.

  “I’ll go get it,” I offer quickly, but Carly’s already on her feet, heading for the door.

  Magda folds her hands on the table and gives me a single instruction. “Stay.”

  I stand quietly in the uncomfortable silence until Carly’s screaming filters through the backdoor. Everything inside of me tightens further.

  “It’s ruined!” Carly shouts, running into the room with the iPad. It’s dripping with water.

  Gabriel’s tone is flat. “On which wall did you leave it, Valentina?”

  “The one by the pool!” Carly shoots daggers at me with her eyes.

  “The sprinklers reach there at night,” Gabriel says almost distantly.

  “This is your fault,” Carly continues in hysterics. “Do you realize how many photos I had on here? Not to mention my homework!”

  “Carly.” Gabriel’s quiet but hard voice instantly shuts her up. “Let that be a lesson well learned for leaving your iPad outside. It’s not the first time. It was bound to happen.”

  “Dad!”

  He holds up a hand, giving her a dark look. “Let me finish. You can recover your homework and photos from iCloud.”

  “I didn’t activate it!”

  Gabriel’s tone is uncompromising. Not a flicker of sympathy warms his eyes. “Lesson number two, well learned. From now on, you’ll make a backup like I told you.” He turns to me, suddenly looking tired. “I’ll deal with you after breakfast.”

  “You’ll replace Carly’s iPad,” Magda says. “It’ll teach you to be less forgetful in future.” She shakes her napkin out on her lap. “Now, I want to eat in peace. Quiet all of you.”

  Carly flops down in her seat, her face red.

  I’m shaky as I return to the kitchen, cursing myself for my negligence. I can’t afford to replace the iPad, not without making more debt.

  It doesn’t take long for Gabriel to come find me. The words I dreaded most leave his lips. “Go to the gym after you’ve cleared the table.”

  Going down to the basement is like a walk to the gallows. He’s already waiting inside, his tie removed and his shirtsleeves rolled back.

  “Close the door,” he says quietly.

  I push until I hear the click, but I don’t have the courage to turn and face him.

  “Come here.”

  I bite my nail as I gather enough strength to obey, one step at a time.

  When I stop in front of him, he pulls my hand from my mouth. “Undress.”

  My eyes lift to his. I don’t mean to beg, but it slips out anyway. “Please.”

  He doesn’t bat an eye. There’s no compassion, no mercy. “Undress.”

  As I pull off my shoes, dress, and underwear, he watches me like a hawk. By now, I’m used to his scrutinizing stare, and it’s less embarrassing than during those first few times, but not less frightening. Once I’m naked, he taps a finger on his lips, studying my face. Finally, he drops his arm, as if he’s made his decision, and points at the floor. “On your back.”

  I swallow as I lie down on my back, watching him fetch a bar with a set of handcuffs secured on each end.

  “What are you doing?” I ask as he locks my wrists on either end.

  He gathers my panties and bundles them into my mouth. “Sorry, beautiful, but I’m not in the mood for dialogue right now.”

  I mumble a protest when he locks my ankles to my wrists, spreading me open on the bar. He pushes the bar back until it touches the mat, raising my arms above my head and my legs with them. Flat on my back, my ass and pussy are exposed in the most vulnerable way. My hamstrings are on fire. I shift in an effort to relieve the uncomfortable stretch when he fetches an object from the torture shelf.

  He returns with a wooden paddle. I shake my head, pleading with my eyes, but he grips the bar and lifts a few times, giving me brief reprieve from the position before he pushes down flat and starts paddling my ass. The first whack on my ass cheek comes as a shock. I scream behind the bundle of fabric in my mouth, even if the sting heats my skin without hurting. The second lash makes me jerk, but when I realize he’s caressing my skin rather than inflicting pain, I almost relax. He works his way from left to right on the fleshy part of my ass until my nerve endings are on fire and my clit is a pulsing nub of ache. My vagina feels swollen. The need for release is severe. When I’m no longer begging with my eyes for him to stop, I’m begging him to let me feel the paddle where I crave it most. Only after every inch of my skin is humming with electric sparks does he finally bring the paddle down right in the middle of my pussy, covering my opening and clit. With the tampon inside me, it feels full. And good. I grind up, desperate for more, but he changes to a slower and gentler rhythm, teasing me mercilessly with a few too-soft taps on my swollen parts.

  Just when I think I can’t take more, he pulls the underwear from my mouth and says, “Beg.”

  I don’t hesitate. “Please, Gabriel.”

  “Please what?”

  “Please, please fuck me.”

  He goes still. There’s a mixture of shock and disbelief on his face, which is slowly replaced with satisfaction. Heat darkens his eyes. His jaw tightens as he looks down at my sex.

  “Please.”

  His chest is rising and falling rapidly, his breathing as harsh as mine. There’s only the sound of our pants in the room. Then he exhales with a long, shaky breath. He pushes the paddle down on my clit and starts massaging with circular movements. Everything clenches as I come violent with a spasm that shatters my respiration. I’m out of air by the time he frees the constraints and drags me to my knees. In his haste to undo his pants, his fingers fumble with the button. I grab the waistband and pull it down his hips to help, not bothering with the zip. His cock juts at me, the tip close to my lips. I devour him like a crazy, starving woman, sucking and licking until he grabs my hair for leverage. He clenches his ass with a primal roar and a curse as he empties himself in my mouth. I swallow as best as I can, trying to breathe through my nose. I don’t want him to pull out. I want him in me forever.

  After a moment, he grips my face in the vice of his giant hands and eases out of my mouth. He uses my hair to wipe himself clean, an act I find strangely and savagely satisfying. Pulling me to my feet, he shoves his tongue between my lips, tasting himself on my mouth. He nips and sucks, bites and laves. I’m aware of nothing but the heated skin of my ass and the wetness of his mouth as he steals my reason. His taste is addict
ive. I don’t know for how long he kisses me before he pushes me away with a gentle shove.

  “Get dressed,” he says in a hoarse voice. “And leave.”

  Confused by the change in his behavior, I obey wordlessly, empty and dissatisfied despite the orgasm I just had. At the door, his words make me pause.

  He grits out every syllable like he has to push it from his throat. “Put on a pretty dress, tonight. You’re going on a date.”

  * * *

  Gabriel

  When I asked her to beg, I expected her to beg for release. Instead, she begged me to fuck her.

  She’s ready.

  I both rejoice and shiver in dread, because the first time won’t be with me. No matter how much I want to take her virginity, I made a promise to myself, and I never break my promises. This time I may be pushed to my limits to keep this promise, but I already have a plan.

  Magda waits in my study when I get back from the gym. I grit my teeth as I stroll past her.

  “Did you do it?”

  I know what she means, but I ask anyway, “Do what?”

  “Punish her.”

  “Yes.” I sit down and open my laptop.

  “How?”

  “Appropriately.”

  Carly learned a valuable lesson. There was nothing to punish Valentina for. I’m a sick bastard for using the situation to feed my own lust.

  Magda doesn’t budge. “How?”

  I shoot her an incredulous look. “You want the juicy details?”

  “What is it about her that’s got you thinking with your dick instead of your head?”

  “Don’t insult me, and your reference to my dick is highly inappropriate.”

  Her eyes, the same watery blue as mine, turn dark with anger. She slaps her palms on my desk, bringing us at eye level. “You’re just like your goddamn father.”

  Keeping my voice calm and my gaze indifferent, I say, “If you can’t speak without repeating yourself, and you have nothing new to say, please get out of my office so I can focus on the business of running your business.”