Page 42 of Vile Pucker

“That’s right, mama. Because you’re not allowed to have anyone else.Lookat anyone else.”

I bent down to my work again, my cheeks burning, only risking little glances past the top of my page as he moved to the bench press again.

One of the new trainers did have a promising bulge in his pockets.

Not like, the kind of package Gabriel wielded like a goddamn weapon in my face, but one that looked like a cellphone.

Everything I needed was in my backpack ready to go. I just had to find some way to escape.

If Gabriel saw me with my hand down any other man’s shorts, he was going to punish me so fucking hard.

Breathing in shallow, panicky pants, I brushed by the trainer as Gabriel set the heavy weights down with a massiveclang.

If he turned at the wrong time. . .

If this guy felt it. . .

But he didn’t, and I quickly dipped my fingers into his shorts, my hands closing with relief on the slick phone, then slipping it behind my back.

The first thing I did was slide it to silent so it wouldn’t ring at an inconvenient time.

Whew. Step one down.

Sliding the phone up my sleeve, I headed toward the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” Gabriel asked.

“To take a piss,” I sniffed.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “Take one of these tests while you’re in there.”

He pulled me inside, then dumped an athletic bag on the sink.

With trepidation, I opened it to find the entire thing stuffed with dozens of pregnancy tests.

“Why do you even want a baby?” I asked desperately.

“Because when you get pregnant, you’ll be tied to me forever. And I want that fucking womb, Lark. It’s mine to fill.”

I shook my head.

“Baby girl, you are going to piss on this test or I’m going to make you.”

He held out a test and I slapped it from his hand.

“I’m not taking that!”

The next thing I knew, he had yanked my long hair with one hand and carried me over to the toilet, pulling up my skirt with the other hand, his fingers ripping impatiently at my belt buckle.

“Piss. Now.”

“I—can’t,” I whimpered.

“Iknowa pregnant mama like you needs to piss. Don’t bullshit me, Lark.”

He pressed on my stomach, fingers digging in right over my bladder.

And damn it, I did need to pee.