Bri had no idea how much her life would change when she moves to the Love's Bayou plantation she inherited.
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After her best friend talks her into turning the place into a BDSM club, Bri decides to keep her identity as the owner hidden when she meets and hires her Master/Manager and his brother.
Threats to her life force her under their protection, in lieu of protective custody. Her abusive past causes her to distrust all men and believe love is a fairy tale. The brothers in their kind and loving efforts show Bri, that not all men are the same and love does exist.
While under their protection, Bri is introduced to the joys of a menage a trois, and experiences heights of ecstasy, the pleasure of pain, and genuine love and caring.
She finds her life evolving in ways she never imagined, as she tries to run from her feelings and those trying to harm her.
She had only traveled about fifty yards when she felt the inescapable niggling that someone was watching her. A crunching sound could be heard a few yards into the forest. She stopped and, listening, only hearing the scurrying of a squirrel in a tree, so she kept on. A minute, maybe two, later she heard the same noise. This was definitely a two-legged noise!
Not having her cell and being alone on foot, she contemplated how long it would take to arrive at her home. The club being closer than her home, she turned and started back.
Moving only a few steps toward the club, she heard another crunch not far behind. Looking around and not seeing anything, she still had that feeling she was being watched. Her feet began moving a little faster now. Another crunch brought her head around, but she could not see anything in the rapid nightfall. Her steps eating up the drive, she didnít see the hole in the road when her foot landed in it awkwardly, twisting her ankle. Pain shot through her, causing her eyes to burn and making her fall to her knees, gravel digging into her flesh.
She desperately scrambled to right herself, whilst peril washed over her. Before she could get to her feet, a foot slammed down on her back grinding her into the dirt, the force of the blow emptying her lungs. Sucking in precious air, gathering enough to let out a scream, she couldnít believe this was happening. Applying weight on her back to make his point.
Next her assailantís hand grabbed the tie of her top, at her nape, jerking her to her feet. Before she knew it his fingers were poking painfully into her bicep. Cold steel touched her side, as trepidation set in, and Bri thought, ďOh God. Iím going to die!Ē
Twisting her head around to see her assailant, she couldnít tell who he was, with the ski mask covering his face. He didnít speak a word. As she struggled to pull away, his grip tightened and the steel of the barrel pressed into her side, painfully reminding her who was in control.
Towing his captive towards the copse of trees, he wanted his prize secluded from prying eyes.
Bri knew she had to do something to get away and do it fast; her chances of escape were becoming slimmer by the minute. Scared, hurt, and weak, but not giving up, but instead finding deep inside her that basic survival instinct. She twisted her body away from his right hand; the one that held the gun.
His hold on her eased just a little. This was her chance; and she hobbled on the painful ankle to the left, adjusting her position. As he attempted to regain his hold on her arm, she pointed her foot. With all the strength she could muster, her battered leg wobbled, supporting her weight. Ignoring the pain, and rearing her good leg back, she struck swiftly. As she connected with her target, he let out a scream and crumpled, and her arm slipped from his grasp.
As he fell to the ground, he reached out to her so she could not escape. His only purchase was her skirt, bunched in his hand, and he pulled her back so he could regain his hold on her; but flimsy material tore away from her body, allowing her to stagger back.
Her foot stepped on the gun that had fallen from his grip, and she scrambled to kick it away as she willed herself to start moving back to the club. Pain radiated through her ankle. Mentally pushing through the pain, half running, half-stumbling, her banged up ankle dragged the ground as she moved.
The loud sound rang out as the gun discharged. She screamed again and turning her head, she could see him starting to rise. Adrenaline coursing through her body kept her moving.