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“To be kidnapped,” Jenna Marks whispered to her friend. She glanced about to make sure no one in the coffee shop had heard her confession. There was no one nearby but a gorgeous guy looking at his computer and sipping a latte, but he had in his headphones so she was sure he hadn’t heard.
“Kidnapped? That’s your secret fantasy?” Mira asked. “Seems kinda…”
“And, you know,” Jenna interrupted. “Um, forced.”
“Raped?”
“No! God, no. I mean, well, geez…it’s a fantasy. In the fantasy, he’d make sure that I wanted him and I got off. But you know. It’s that helpless to a stranger fantasy. Loads of women have it.”
“Loads?”
“Just because you haven’t doesn’t mean it’s not true,” Jenna retorted, feeling a bit self-conscious. Idly, she toyed with a strand of the auburn hair that had fallen over her collarbone. She looked over at the guy again to be sure he wasn’t listening. Under the brim of his red baseball cap, his green eyes stared intently on his PC. The hat, covering short dark hair, seemed in opposition to his button-down white shirt, but appeared in perfect unison to the muscles the cotton barely contained. Thankfully, he seemed wholly oblivious to the conversation beside him.
Lord, what had possessed her to be truthful when Mira had asked about her secret fantasy? She hadn’t played truth or dare as a teenager, and this grown up version at twenty-eight was making her queasy. Wishing she’d kept her mouth shut, she stirred a packet-worth of Splenda into her otherwise black coffee. Her stomach rolled at the idea of another coffee, and she thought perhaps she should have something to eat instead, but she didn’t have time to get real food—the coffee shop only had pastries.
She sighed and took a sip of the steaming drink. Mira shouldn’t be shocked by her confession. The girl indulged in one outlandish escapade after another. Still, Jenna realized now, she should have told her to mind her own business.
“Don’t you have some sort of secret wish?” Jenna asked, hoping to shift attention from herself.
Mira’s cheeks colored.
Mira blushing? She must have one doozy of a fantasy.
“Spill it,” Jenna urged.
Her friend shook her head. “I’ve, uh, done everything I might fantasize about. Nothing like getting kidnapped.” She glanced at her watch. “Oops! Gotta go or I’m gonna be late. Thursday night. So much to do. I’ll call you tomorrow and give you all the steamy details of Craig and his big…truck?”
“Yeah, sure.”
It was just like Mira to weasel out of telling her fantasy. Jenna shook her head. Didn’t matter. Mira would forget this in three point two seconds, and Jenna would go home to her battery-operated marauder and pretend he was a masked stranger making her come.
* * * *
Rob Colvin forced himself not to stare open-mouthed at the beautiful woman at the table next to his. He’d seen her in here before, and every time, she mesmerized him with her cascade of dark auburn hair and wickedly sparkling blue eyes. She was a little too thin for his tastes, but that could be remedied with some pizza and cheesecake.
Whenever he saw her, his cock went into overdrive. She was hardly the Barbie doll clone many men looked for, but she was the epitome of his dreams. And to hear the secret fantasy she’d just laid out for her friend… Oh man.
As owner of a local alternative lifestyle club, The Dungeon, he rarely approached women. When he did, they either falsely simpered all over him or ran in terror. So many of the females he encountered were either scared of his way of life or enamored with a brief walk on the wild side. That wouldn’t do. He didn’t want a lifestyle slave, just someone who would be submissive to him when he started a scene—someone who would always be his slave in the bedroom.
His cock thrust against the fly of his jeans, and he shifted in his chair, hoping to adjust some of the pressure. Hearing Little Miss Wet Dream reveal her fantasy sent his imagination and his need for her racing wild.
If she wanted that fantasy, he was exactly the man to deliver it. But would she like the rest of what he’d introduce her to? Leaning back in his seat, he watched as she rose from her table. Her skinny hips swayed as she moved to dispose of her cup then left the building. From his club, he knew women, and this one definitely needed another fifteen to twenty pounds on her.
Kidnapping her would be tricky and risky. He certainly didn’t want to do fifteen to thirty in prison. The risk didn’t deter him much. He’d seen the look in her eyes when she’d confessed her secret wish to her friend. The desire within her was deep and profound. She really craved this.
If it turned out she didn’t want him, he’d return her to her own bed, untouched and none the worse for the wear. If she did want him…
Well, then she’d be his. In all ways. He’d cuff her to his bed and make her scream with delight. He’d learned early on that his pleasure was in direct relation to that of his submissive. And the sweet beauty who’d just left was definitely a sub. No question about that. No woman who was a Domme would want to be kidnapped and seductively “forced”.
He watched her pull her Tracker out of the parking spot then roll toward the street. She lived in the same complex his brother, Braydon, did and parked in the garage beneath the building. He knew from talking to Braydon that the residents had repeatedly asked for security cameras to be installed in the parking area, but they hadn’t been.
Chloroform was out of the question. It could be dicey, and he certainly didn’t want her hurt. His business had a kidnapping service. The Doms who oversaw it could help him with a safe way to knock her out. Rob would just get it from them.
Closing down his computer, he began a mental list of the things he’d need for the weekend.
* * * *
The next night, Jenna leaned her forehead against the steering wheel of her Tracker after she’d pulled it into her customary spot in the shadowy garage. What an awful day.
Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong. Fridays in the pediatric office were always a zoo, but this one had had something special in the air—and it wasn’t just the flu. She’d been smacked by a toddler, wet on by an infant and had been screamed at by various children who didn’t want shots. She’d narrowly missed having vomit on her shoes, the new records clerk couldn’t find half of the patient files and Jenna had been running non-stop since nine a.m. The doctor in charge had been on a tear today, growling at all the staff. That was just one more reason Jenna considered applying at other offices.
She’d stopped at the gym on the way home, had worked out some of her tensions and, having showered, at least felt fresh. Maybe she’d whip up a salad upstairs in her apartment then lounge in front of the TV for a few hours, getting lost in a few of her favorite romantic comedies. Maybe she’d skip the salad and just collapse on the couch.
Heaving an exhausted sigh, she opened the Tracker’s door then stepped out onto the cement. Life shouldn’t weigh so heavily on her. Didn’t she have a good job in a crappy economy, friends, a place to live… She had everything really except family or a man, but at least one of those would come with time. Wouldn’t it?
She’d just opened the back door of her vehicle when two huge arms wrapped around her from behind. Her heart rushed into her throat, her pulse flying so fast she barely heard anything but the blood racing past her ears. A large hand covered her mouth, and warm breath swept over her temple.
Pure terror gripped her, making her entire body shudder as she struggled against the enormous man holding her. His arm squeezed tight, but it was her panic that had her seeing black spots. Oh God, had she brought this on by speaking her wish aloud?
“Hush, little one,” he murmured, his voice deep and composed.
The smooth words calmed her slightly. He didn’t sound like a raving lunatic, but what did a lunatic sound like?
“I’m won’t harm you,” he continued. “I know your secret fantasy, and I’m here to give it to you.”
How could he know her fantasy? Had Mira told someone? Was this guy one of her friends, and he’d been sent as a pity fuck? It couldn’t be the guy from the coffee shop yesterday. He couldn’t have heard, and he’d shown no reaction to her words. No, this had to be Mira’s doing and that meant he was safe.
“I’ve watched you and wanted you for a long time, and now that I know what you want… This is your one chance. Nod yes, and I’ll take it from here. Or shake your head no, and I’ll leave you in your car.”
He was giving her a choice? This was definitely a Mira setup. Her breath shuddered into her lungs as she took shaky breaths through her mouth. Her stomach fluttered as she realized she could get what she wanted yet be safe.
Please don’t be a mistake!
Slowly, she nodded her head, her nerves flying wild as the implications of her choice hit her. This was stupid! What was she thinking? She’d be completely under his control.
“Good choice, baby,” he murmured in that smooth velvet voice.
“Who are you?” she mumbled beneath his hand.
She felt him chuckle then he kissed her behind the ear. A tremble wove through her, this time tinged by forbidden longing.
Her captor’s mouth moved to her lobe, nipping before traveling upward to whisper to her. “Who am I? For the rest of the weekend, you can call me Master.” The arm around her middle moved up then he pinched her hard nipple. His voice grew harsher, raking across her and raising goose bumps on her flesh. “And I’ll call you slave.”
His hand lifted from her mouth, but before she could react, a sweet-smelling cloth covered it. Fruitlessly, she struggled, her gulps between screams drawing in more of the inhalant.
Slowly, the world blurred, then went dark. | 
