Three times the outlaw, three times the danger.
I"ll never forget the night they kidnapped me.
Snatched from my bed by three dangerous, demanding, gorgeous outlaws, ready to auction me off to the highest bidder.
Three dominant, possessive, tattooed men who stir something dark in me that I"ve never felt before.
Men who want to make me theirs, who want to take me in ways I"ve only imagined in fantasy – and who want to make that wicked, forbidden fantasy very real. It"s my chance to leave my innocence behind and embrace the darkest, dirtiest part of myself.
If I dare.
But time"s running out, for all of us. And pretty soon, they"re going to have to make a choice between the job they"re sworn to do, and my sweet submission.
Submit, to the three filthy, tempting, and gorgeous stone-cold killers who stole me away"
Taken Three Times is a dark, steamy read involving a mfmm menage romance with three utterly obsessed alpha heroes. This is all about her " no m/m. If you love over-the-top, slightly unrealistic, and wildly dirty romance with plenty of steam, this one"s for you! HEA with NO CHEATING!Books by Author:Madison Faye Books
The smell of musty earth filled my nose as I slowly opened my eyes.
Slowly, groggily, I forced my eyes to open further, making them adjust to the low, almost nonexistent light of the stark, small room. A dusty window, caked in grime and half-covered by newspapers up high on one wall letting in thin tendrils of morning light, and a small threadbare cot I was lying on.
Then I noticed the handcuffs around my wrists connected by a chain to the wall.
Suddenly, I was awake.
Much more awake.
I sat up with a start, instantly wincing as pain knifed through my head. I gingerly brought my manacled hands up and rubbed the side of my head with a wrist as I looked around the room. My mind seemed dulled and slower, as I tried to piece together the only question looming through all of this.
Where the fuck was I"
I groaned as the pain came lancing through my head again, forcing me to lie back and curl up on the cot.
This wasn"t the island resort. This wasn"t the club with the pounding music and the dancing, grinding, sweaty people which was the last thing I remembered.
With a start, I realized one other thing that suddenly made my skin crawl.
"These weren"t even my clothes.
The thought had my heart jumping into my throat as I felt the adrenaline spike. I was wearing a shift of some kind " almost like a hospital gown. A quick, terrifying look told me I was still wearing my underwear " thank God " but it was a small comfort.
Slowly, shivering and still trying wake my brain up, I curled into a ball on the cot.
Where the hell was I and how the hell had I gotten there"
Because the last thing I remembered was the beach"
"How about a little fucking gratitude, Cassandra""
Frank, my stepfather, glared at me across the white-linen table laden with breakfast food.
I scowled right back. Honestly, nothing outside the norm for our exchanges.
"I said how about some fucking gratitude"" He nodded his chin at the phone in my hand, his eyes darkening. "I didn"t take us all down here for a vacation like this so that you could ignore your mother in favor of Snapchat or whatever in God"s name you deem more important right now."
It was the arrogance of the way he talked to me that always set me off. The arrogance and the way he had of twisting words and fact in his favor.
Probably how he got my mother in the first place.
Frank hadn"t brought us down here, my mother had. Well, her money had " the money my actual father left us before he"d passed years before. So for starters, it wasn"t like Frank had shelled out for an expensive island resort like this, goodness knows how much it cost.
Secondly, Frank didn"t give a single shit if I ignored him. But any possible thing he could sniff out and find to drive between my mother and me, he took. It was as if he saw me as some sort of competitor that needed sidelining.
Maybe it was because unlike my mom, I saw right through his smarmy fake-charm bullshit and saw exactly what he was: a grifter. A con man. A phony only after my mother for the insane wealth her first husband had left behind.
Unfortunately, Mom didn"t see that part of him. Mom " aided by her newfound love of 11 a.m. cocktail hour, which was of course a new "Frank" thing " didn"t see that side of him at all.
"I"m not ignoring my mother, Frank," I spat back. "I"m also not twelve, just so we"re clear. So I"m actually on work stuff " for my career. Not snapchat."
"Well no one forced you to come down here and waste your time with us," he grumbled.
I rolled my eyes, ignoring him as I usually tried to as I turned to my mom. She smiled, raising her fourth mimosa of the morning and grinning a loopy grin at me. "We"re on vacation, Cassie! Wasn"t it nice for Frank to treat us""
I gritted my teeth. "He didn"t Mom. You did."
"What"s that dear""
"That"s enough," Frank snapped. He reached over and took my mother"s hand before glaring at me again. "If you had so much work to do, why did you come here""
To be fair, he had a point. Even growing up with money like I had, I"d never wanted frivolity like this. The Caribbean island resort was probably close to ten-grand a night, and I even had my own cabana, which probably doubled that.
People are starving all over the world, and there we were literally eating caviar and sipping champagne for breakfast at some insanely expensive resort in this beautiful, exotic locale.
I mean, don"t get me wrong " the place was beautiful. White sands, crystal-blue water, palm-trees, thatched-roof cabanas with all the modern amenities wealth could buy" Yeah, amazing. The place could have even been pretty romantic.