Sydney’s lips pursed and her brow furrowed. After a brief pause, “I certainly hope so.”
She and Jen laughed aloud; they’d said it together. Their laughter ceased suddenly as the plane speed changed and they angled downward. Splashdown was imminent.
“If we don’t get a chance to chat again, Jen, I hope you find what you’re looking for here.”
“Thanks, Sydney. Satisfaction guaranteed is what the brochure said. For 25K, I’m holding them to it.”
* * *
As he waited for Mariah at the bottom of the wide marble staircase in the mansion’s spacious lobby, Dimitri checked his watch. The plane should land within the next quarter hour. If she wasn’t down soon, he’d have to run up and fetch her.
The sound of rustling fabric drew his attention. Looking up, the sight of her in the royal blue dress made his body tighten. Shoulders bared, bountiful breasts pushed up revealing a sexy, although not obscene amount of creamy skin, voluptuous hips swaying, toned calves and trim ankles peeking out through the knee-high slit in her dress as she descended each step on glittering high-heeled sandals. Damn, she made him ache.
Si magari. Yes, if only. If only she were his. If only she would give him her trust and let him show her the way, to vanquish her fears and ease her pain. If only she had come into his life before…
‘If onlys’ reminded him of an old proverb his father used to say: if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. His papa had been a man of action, not a dreamer. Dimitri, however, never bought into that completely. He was a dreamer—an idea man—but he also had the drive and the means to make those dreams come true. Pleasure Bay had started that way, as a dream, but look at it now—unique, successful, and extremely lucrative.
Certainly, part of the reason for its success was the talent of Mariah Charmant. Also a dreamer, she loved the game, although she didn’t play it, not now. Instead, she reveled in the strategy, the planning, the setup, and the matchmaking—the bringing together of two people. She often said it was like connecting pieces of a jigsaw puzzle; some might look right together at a glance—same shape, size, and color—but no matter appearances, only one piece fit perfectly with its true match.
Yes, Mariah was a romantic to the core. She loved the challenge. Constructing a flawless fantasy thrilled her. Watching the cat-and-mouse games between the couples—the pursuit, mastering, and ultimate surrender between the D/s pairs—made her heart race. But even though these were satisfying elements of her job, it was the romance that pumped her up and made it all worthwhile. Although, always for the guests, never for herself.
Having tried to engage her affections for two years, they’d grown close, a friendship of sorts had developed, but he wanted more, he wanted it all; the submission of her glorious body, yes, but he especially wanted to form a personal attachment and capture her heart. He could have easily taken her body, dominated the submissive always seeking to please. He could have stormed the near-impenetrable walls she’d constructed to protect the fragile heart deep inside, but that would have proven him no better than the bastard who had broken her and destroyed her ability to trust in the first place.
No, he couldn’t do that to her, so he’d been patient and proceeded slowly. He’d developed a game plan long ago and had been slowly but surely chipping away at her walls, the goal to rescue and heal the heart within. Looking at her now, he smiled, eagerly anticipating the challenge ahead because he’d decided it was time to begin his siege. He was tired of waiting and planned to use all the tools in his arsenal to conquer her. She wouldn’t know what had hit her.
“Dimitri,” she said as she came to a stop on the first step, her eyes level with his. She was practically bouncing with excitement. “I have a feeling this weekend is going to be spectacular.”
“You say that every weekend, piccola.”
“That’s because we’re on a winning streak.” Her hands came up to straighten his collar. “You look handsome as ever. Have you been waiting long? I’m not late, am I?”
“No, we have time.” His eyes searched her lovely features, flushed with anticipation, her eyes twinkling eagerly. Did she have any idea what she did to him? Taking her slender wrists in his hands, he brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them. As expected, she froze, his touch seeming to entrance her. “You look stunning in royal blue, baby. The color is perfect for you.”
“Thank you, sir,” she breathed unevenly, her eyes fused to where his lips touched her skin. She seemed unaware that she referred to him as ‘sir’ frequently—her innate submissive nature hard for her to suppress. She’d resolved to stay neutral; he’d decided to test that resolve and push her a bit. Flipping her hand over, he brushed his lips against the tender skin of her inner wrist, his tongue flicking over her pulse point.
“Shouldn’t we, uh…” Flustered, her voice was low and quavering, close to a moan. “Shouldn’t we head down to the dock now?”
“In a moment,” he murmured as he inhaled, breathing in her essence. “You smell fantastic. I love your scent.”
“You should.” Short of panting now, she leaned in. “You picked it out for me.”
“Shalimar… mm, like vanilla and incense, it’s exotic and sensual, yet it’s as homey as cookies.” His lips wandered up her arm, toward her neck where he nibbled gently as he spoke. “The smell of cookies makes me hungry, baby.”
“D, we should go.” Her insistence was offset by the press of her body against his, as well as the way she angled her head away, exposing more of her vulnerable neck and throat for his mouth.
“You want me, Mariah. I can feel your pulse racing in your throat.” He kissed her there. “Your nipples are hard and pressing insistently against my chest. I know if I were to slide my hand under this sexy dress, you’d be wet and hot for me too. When are you going to stop fighting this attraction?”
His phone rang, buzzing in his front pocket. The moment lost, Mariah stiffened and pulled away.
“Merda!” She’d been so close. Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out his phone and thumbed on the screen. “What is it?”
“Da plane, boss, da plane.” Brody, on duty in the surveillance center, said jokingly.
“Yeah, after two years that shit never gets old.” Irritated at being interrupted right when he was making progress, Dimitri was unusually brusque as he hung up on the man.
He cupped Mariah’s cheek with his hand, sliding his fingers into her hair and wrapping them around the nape of her neck, pulling her closer. His lips hovered over hers, a hairsbreadth away. “We aren’t done here, piccola, not by a long shot.”
“We talked about this, Dimitri. I’m not ready.”
“It’s been two years, that’s much too long.”
“You don’t understand—”
“I do, baby. I know some bastard did a number on you, but you can’t let him keep taking from you, robbing you of your future. You are a sensual creature, Mariah, but you’re stuck, frozen in place. That’s no way to live, afraid, experiencing life vicariously through others. Open your heart and let me in, bella mia. I promise to give it the utmost care.”
“D.” This came from Vance, who appeared suddenly behind them.
Dimitri stiffened; he hadn’t even heard the door open, so wrapped up was he in the woman in his arms.
“The plane is landing as we speak.”
Staring intently into her eyes, he didn’t break contact while he answered. “We’re coming.”
The door softly closing told them he’d left. That he’d heard.
“Bad timing, baby; you just look so beautiful, the embodiment of temptation that I simply can’t resist.” He kissed her lips softly, before taking a half-step backward, releasing all but her hands. “We’ll talk more about this later.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“Doesn’t matter, it’s happening.” Slipping an arm around her waist, he guided her out the front door and across the sloping lawn to the dock.
* * *
Jennifer stepped from the plane behind the big, handsome guy in the white tux, watching as he fussed with his jacket. He seemed a bit uncomfortable in the heat, but Jen thrived on it. The warm tropical breeze wrapped around her bare shoulders as a medley of different scents tickled her nose: lilac, wisteria, and jasmine. At the top of the steps leading up from the dock, a trio stood waiting to welcome them: two devastatingly attractive men and an equally gorgeous woman. These must be the owners.
One look at the elegant blonde dressed in stunning blue made Jen wish she had picked a more elaborate dress. Her eyes shifted to the sexy man standing next to her. Dressed all in black with his shirt open at the throat, his olive skin, midnight black hair, dark oceanic eyes, and strong build had her guessing he was probably Italian. The tall, strapping man next to him was dressed in a black tux, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. All three of them wore welcoming smiles as they patiently waited for the last passenger to exit the plane.
“Good evening, guests and members,” the man in the middle began. “I am your host, Dimitri De Luca. Please feel free to address me as Dimitri. Sir or Master D works for the BDSM-inclined.” The man’s voice was nearly as sexy as his appearance and although it was faint, she picked up on his accent, definitely Italian. The petite blonde on his arm was a very lucky girl.
“The lovely lady to my right is Mariah Charmant, our guest relations manager, and to my left,” he gestured, “is Vance Lebrock, our chief of security.”
Her eyes swept over Vance again, wondering if he was the man who was going to be keeping a ‘close’ eye on her this weekend. She noticed the way his steely eyes swept over those standing on the dock, deliberately, as if calculating every detail. Suddenly, they paused on her. Feeling as though she had just been caught ogling him, she looked away, pretending to be interested in something, anything else. Her gaze landed on a purple and white butterfly bush offset from the steps.
“We would like to thank you for entrusting us with the honor of making your special fantasies come true and hope that you will enjoy your stay,” the sexy Dimitri continued. Jennifer certainly wouldn’t mind him being her pretend captor, but the possessive arm around the pretty blonde’s waist told her he was already taken.
“I trust that you have all become familiar with your contract and our island rules. You will find copies of each in the guest manual in your rooms. This is for your convenience, as you will be held responsible for knowing and following them. Please review them as necessary. The rules are in place for your safety and that of our other guests; violators will be dealt with promptly and strictly.” His million-dollar smile beamed brightly, but she could hear the underlying, authoritative voice of a dom.
“We are happy to have you here and as a welcome, have prepared a small celebration for you in our outdoor lounge. If there are questions or concerns, please find myself, Mariah, or any one of our well-trained staff who will be available to you in the mansion.” He paused for a moment, taking Mariah’s arm as he concluded, “Business aside, I hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us on Pleasure Bay. Now, if you’ll follow me…”
The sound of the water lapping against the plane behind them followed Jennifer and her fellow passengers up the steps. At the top, the vastness of the estate was finally revealed. Until now, only a small portion had been within view from the dock. It looked so much bigger than it had in the pictures. The sprawling Victorian manor perched high on a grassy point overlooked the bay. Gleaming white in the afternoon sun, the mansion—and the island for that matter—seemed to rise majestically out of the Caribbean, the regal architecture laden with high turrets, porches, and balconies.
She heard Sydney remark on how beautiful it was as they followed their hosts along the white concrete walkway. Sydney had a charming, outgoing personality and soon she and the man next to her were engaged in quiet, although animated conversation, but Jen couldn’t quite make it out.
“Can you believe that staircase?” Jen murmured to the tall brunette in the long red evening gown who walked alongside her. Taking in the wide curving steps and the intricate style of the smooth white banisters, she noticed that it was matched at the far end of the building. It wasn’t just one staircase, but two that fell like twin teardrops from the second story balcony, allowing access from either side of the vast structure.
“Wait until you see the marble staircase inside, now that is truly a work of art.”
“Oh—you’ve been here before?” Jen asked curiously.
“A time or two,” the sleek dark-haired woman replied with a teasing smirk on her lips that told Jen she wasn’t about to offer up any more information. Confidentiality and all that, she presumed.
The soft sound of classical music drifted on the breeze from one of the open upstairs windows as they rounded a corner to the east side of the estate. As they passed, decorative flower gardens and a few tall, wispy tropical trees drew her eyes and gave Jennifer a peaceful feeling. Even if her fantasy didn’t turn out as she hoped it might, this resort was truly something to be admired for its beauty alone.
As they approached the left side of the building, the sound of trickling water drew her attention. She was thrilled to see the grotto from the brochure. Rays from the sun broke through the trees and illuminated the water in the shallow pool, making it sparkle and dance. It was beautiful, but she longed to see the waterfall. After seeing the pictures of it online, her mind had constantly conjured up intimate water scenes featuring her and her fantasy man, their naked bodies intertwined beneath the mist, the skin slick and wet. All of her nerve endings came to life as she imagined it happening for real, causing her nipples to tighten and sending rivulets of moist heat to dampen her panties.
As much as she had told herself to stop thinking about her would-be fantasy man and how he would go about capturing her, she couldn’t. She discreetly surveyed two of the men walking ahead of her, wondering if one of them might be her man. Secretly, she couldn’t help but hope for the guy with the sandy blond hair and big muscles. She could just imagine those huge arms picking her up and carrying her off to one of Dimitri’s castle turrets, like a knight of old. He could subdue her like a misbehaving wench and imprison her in his tower while doing all sorts of naughty things to her. On edge, she couldn’t stop imagining. Everywhere she looked, everyone she saw created a sex scene in her brain.
At the back corner of the manor, Dimitri stopped for a moment to address them. “As you can see,” he said, gesturing to the beach as well as the wooded areas surrounding the manor, “there are several well-marked trails on the island. Some of them lead to your weekend cabanas and bungalows, while others take you for a relaxing walk, where you can admire our beautiful island and all of its tropical wonders. For your safety and convenience, we have installed state-of-the-art solar ground lighting along the trails, which will accommodate those of you who enjoy nighttime strolls. We do ask that you not wander onto trails leading to any guest quarters other than your own.”
With a wave of his hand, their host continued leisurely along the winding walk, allowing the guests to take in all the serene beauty around them. Jennifer was watching the most amazing butterfly she’d ever seen flitting from bush to bush. Its color almost matched that of the bikini she had brought: aqua-plum. She’d been so caught up in watching, she stopped short, nearly bumping into the guy in the pearly white tux.
Looking around to see if anyone had noticed that she’d almost rear-ended the guy, she flushed. The woman in the red gown obviously had. She smiled gently at Jen and leaned in to whisper, “It’s easy to get distracted with all the wonderful scenery, honey.”
Jen saw her eyes shift and linger on the man ahead of them, and she wasn’t sure if the woman was talking about the island scenery or about the man. In either case, caught gawking and acting like a goofy tourist left her feeling a bit embarrassed.
As they were guided along the path behind the manor, they came to a short set of wide opulent limestone steps set into the walkway in order to accommodate
the sloping yard. As they came off the last step, the woman in red casually stepped in front of her, falling into place beside the sandy blond hunk. Now her comment made sense. Truth be told, she’d shown an avid interest in him ever since leaving the dock.
He turned his head as she moved in next to him, giving her a shy smile. Jen watched as she boldly returned it and stepped in closer, placing her hand on his shoulder.
“Katie,” she introduced herself softly. “Gorgeous view, isn’t it?”
“Uh-huh,” he said, nodding, and then looked away, putting a hand in the pocket of his jacket.
Jen thought the guy looked nervous and she noticed the back of his neck was slightly pink. Was he blushing? It was hard to believe a big hunk like him would be flustered over the attentions of a sexy woman. Unless he was… gay? No, Jen didn’t want to believe that. It would exclude him—hands down—as her potential abductor. But judging by his reaction to the ebony-haired woman’s flirting, he didn’t seem her type anyway.
After taking the long scenic trail around the manor, they came to the west side of the property where they encountered yet another short set of steps, which led up to a large outdoor deck. A stunning view of the bay and the sound of Jamaican music welcomed them. The approaching sunset would be a sight to see from the lounge.
The sharp-dressed businessman from the plane smiled at her as she came up the steps. “No matter how many times I visit, the view still amazes me.”
“It’s breathtaking,” she said, returning his smile. “Nothing in the brochure even comes close to doing this place justice.”
Chapter Three
Fire and water—that’s what came to mind when Sydney first saw the Pleasure Bay lounge. Like everything else, it was exceptional. The spacious covered deck extended away from the house and was open on three sides, providing a panoramic view of the sparkling blue Caribbean just a short distance away. Warm and inviting, the main level featured a full bar and dance floor with a live band performing. An eclectic mix of covers, she noticed, as the island reggae tune changed to a slow pop ballad as their group arrived. Two couples were dancing and a few others were seated at the surrounding candlelit pub tables. Steps on all sides led down to a lower level with more tables, these linen draped with a centerpiece of flowers and candles. Interspersed throughout the lower deck were plush-cushioned couches where couples could sit and admire the ocean view, chat, kiss, cuddle, or whatever.
Pleasure Bay Page 5