Three Strikes (Desire Island 3)

Chapter 1

She’d wanted him from the moment she’d laid eyes on him. Tonight, at last, was her chance.

Master Ryan smiled down at her from the stage, laugh lines radiating from those vivid blue eyes, his sun-streaked blond hair falling rakishly over his forehead. His muscular, bare torso was smooth and tan above long legs encased in black leather.

Abbie mounted the side steps in a daze, still stunned she’d won the sexiest, most intense Dom on the island. Her mouth was dry, her heart beating high in her throat as she moved across the stage to collect her prize.

“Congratulations, Abbie,” Mistress Ella said as Abbie handed her the play money—triple the regulation amount. “Your bid wasn’t quite within the rules.” A hint of a smile hovered over her lips. “But then, rules are sometimes made to be broken.”

Abbie flushed, fully aware she’d had an unfair advantage during the bidding, but too invested in winning the man of her dreams, at least for one evening, to care.

“You know the rules of play during auction night,” Mistress Ella continued. “But just to reiterate—as the winner, you have the right to set the terms of the scene, though always respecting your partner’s limits. I’m not sure Master Ryan has a safeword,” she added, amusement making her dark eyes twinkle. “You can work that out between you.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Abbie said, the full realization of what she’d done thundering through her.

Slave auctions were held twice a week in the main dungeon on Desire Island. These reverse auctions—where participating Doms took the stage—were rare and highly anticipated events. This was the first time Master Ryan—owner of the resort along with Mistress Ella, as well as Abbie’s boss—had put himself on the auction block. Not surprisingly, the bidding had been fierce.

Abbie had had her eye on the guy since she’d arrived on the island over a year before, but he was a lot more than just hot male eye candy. What had started as a simple crush had evolved into a deep, constant attraction as she got to know him better.

He was friendly and supportive of staff and had an easy way with the guests. But it was his care, compassion and masterful firmness with the trainees that had deepened her respect and fueled her fantasies of one day belonging to him. If he’d ever given her an opening—some tiny indication that he thought of her as more than a colleague—she would have leaped at the chance to prove herself.

There had been a moment here and there when she’d thought a spark had passed between them, but she hadn’t had the nerve to pursue any possible connection. Instead, she lived for the moments when he would ask her to serve as a demo slave while training someone new. She cherished the rare occasions when they’d shared a casual scene during dungeon party nights, but those were few and far between. Master Ryan was very much in demand and he tended to spread the wealth.

“Be gentle with me, Mistress,” he smilingly teased now as she approached him.

Abbie tried to come up with a witty comeback, but her mind was blank as a sheet of paper. She managed to smile back. At least, she hoped whatever her face was doing approximated a smile. There were whoops and scattered applause as she led the island heartthrob from the stage.

The BDSM dungeon was packed—pheromones, lust and yearning palpable in the air as whips cracked and submissives moaned. Abbie looked around for her cousin, Kendra, as they moved through the crowd. She spied her standing near the back of the large room with her lover, Dylan. They were with Skylar, one of Abbie’s closest friends, and her Dom, Master Caelan.

You got this, Kendra mouthed as their eyes met.

Man, I hope so, Abbie telegraphed silently back.

“Where are we going, Mistress?” Master Ryan asked, the amusement still in his tone. This was all a game to him, of course. That was all it was supposed to be—a few hours of negotiated play, a way for guests to break the ice and staff to have some casual fun.

Abbie swallowed hard, screwing up her courage to ask—no—to tell him what she wanted. “I’m going to take you to my room,” she informed him, pleased her voice sounded reasonably steady. “That way we can focus on our scene without distractions.”

Without all the other women on the island trying to hit on you, she thought but did not add.

He regarded her for a long moment, his eyes moving over her face as if he were memorizing her features. It wasn’t a typical request. Auction play usually took place in the main dungeon or one of the private fetish rooms. By asking him back to her room, she was already taking things in a decidedly more personal direction.

She met his gaze, willing herself not to blush. What if he refused? She held her breath, channeling all her energies into a silent but heartfelt entreaty. Say yes. Say yes. Say yes.