Taken Three Times by Madison Faye

  Taken Three Times

  Madison Faye


  Taken Three Times

  Author’s Note:

  Mailing List

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19


  Also by Madison Faye

  About the Author

  Mailing List

  Bonus Books!

  Professor: A First Time Novel

  Legal: A First Time Novel

  Taken Three Times

  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?

  Yes please.

  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!

  Author’s Note:

  Warning: This book is dark and steamy (kinda how I like my coffee). It does involve themes such as kidnapping and restraint that may be triggering to some readers, though engine-revving for others. Like all my books though, the HEA is guaranteed, so I promise, if you stick with it, the ending is worth it!

  Please know that this book is a MFMM romance, which is to say, it's all about her - no MM action.

  Oh, and while it might not be Christmas yet, I’ve included two other hot books of mine here as a huge thanks from me to you for reading and for your support! Professor, and Legal both immediately follow Taken Three Times.

  I recommend getting a fan and a cool drink, because things are about to get very hot. Enjoy!

  Copyright © 2016 Madison Faye

  All rights reserved.

  Editing: Sennah Tate

  Cover: White Rabbit Creative

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review purposes.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission.

  This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. It contains extremely sexually explicit and graphic scenes and language which may be considered offensive by some readers. This book is strictly intended for those over the age of 18.

  All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older. All acts of a sexual nature are completely consensual.

  Mailing List

  Join the mailing list, get a **FREE BOOK!**

  Join my mailing list to be the first to know of new releases, free books, special prices, and other author giveaways! And did I mention, you get a FREE BOOK for signing up?

  Click the book above, or copy/paste the following into a browser to join now and start reading!


  Look for the whole catalog, only on Amazon and always FREE with your Kindle Unlimited subscription!


  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.

  “Excuse me?”

  “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.

  Gross, right?

  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.

  That is, if I had romance in my life.

  …I did not, in case that wasn’t clear. Not after my boyfriend of a year — Simon — skipped out on me along with my best friend two months before.

  Yeah, nice friend, right?

  Between that, the crazy amount of work I was taking on at the nonprofit I worked at, and the looming possibility of turning twenty-seven with not a single romantic prospect in my life, I’d said yes to the vacation.

  Even if it did mean putting up with Frank’s childish bullshit.

  “I came down to spend a little time with my mom, Frank,” I said thinly, reaching out and putting a hand over hers. “Right Mom?”

  “What’s that dear?” She smiled at me in that dazed way again — the way she had been for the last few months.

  “We’re going to spend some time together! Maybe go for a hike? Or some tennis, like we used to?”

  “Sounds fantastic, dear!” She laughed — more than necessary — before raising her empty glass to the waitstaff.


  It wasn’t perfect, but it was something. And as much as showy wealth like this always turned me off, being here was a change — one I probably needed if I was being honest with myself.

  Stressed-out me, drunk Mom, asshole stepfather.

  Not exactly the Disney post-card vacation, but it was a start.N


  My sour mood persisted through breakfast, through helping my mom back to her and Frank’s cabana for a “nap”, and through me heading back to mine to try and get some work done.

  I know, in a way, Frank had a point. I was on vacation. I knew it was stupid for me to be sitting on the steps of my cabana typing away on a laptop, even if the view here was incredibly better than my office. But then, with my mom passed out, it’s not like I had much else to do, or anyone to actually be on vacation with.

  I glared at the laptop screen before pulling my eyes up over the top of it and gazing out at the pristine beach.

  Oh screw it.

  I wasn’t admitting that Frank was right, but I did know me sitting there doing work in a place like this was some sort of sacrilege. I snapped the laptop closed, ducked back into my cabana, and started poking around my suitcase for my swimsuit.

  The waves felt amazing — tropical water crashing over me with just enough coolness to chase away the heat of the equatorial sun. I dove into one, coming up for air with a grin on my face and actually feeling more refreshed than I had in a long time.

  Maybe I needed this vacation.

  I padded back up the beach to my towel, mostly dry from the sun by the time I even got there. I looked up the beach towards the resort, spotting my mom and Frank’s cabana on the edge of the sand. I sighed, pulling the towel tight around my waist as I started to head that way. It’d been a few hours now — time to check on Mom after her morning happy hour.

  “Mom? You up?”

  I skipped up the wooden stairs to the luxury-suite cabana and reached for the doorknob.

  “Mom, are you-oh.”

  I froze, stopping short in the doorway at the sight in front of me.

  “Ever heard of knocking, Cassandra?” Frank hissed. He snapped the briefcase shut, shooting a quick glance at the man he’d been talking quietly with when I’d barged in.

  “Sorry, I—”

  “She went to get some lunch,” he growled, narrowing his eyes at me before shooting a quick glance at the other man — a dark-haired guy with an ugly scar running the length of his jaw. He was wearing a full suit, which seemed out of place to the point of absurdity in a beach resort like this, even if it was an insanely expensive one.

  The man turned to me, his eyes slipping up and down my body, making me cringe and shiver in a not-so-nice way. He grinned, and I shivered again as I pulled the towel tighter around my waist and protectively crossed my arms over my bikini top.

  Frank cleared his throat, snapping my attention back to him.

  “I said she want to get some lunch, Cassandra. I’m in the middle of a meeting here.”

  Beyond the weirdness of Frank having a business meeting at a tropical resort, in his cabana, wearing a t-shirt and swim-shorts, with a guy who looked like a James Bond villain, there was the other thing.

  There was what I’d seen in that briefcase before he’d snapped it shut.

  Money. Lots of money, all cash.

  Frank awkwardly passed the briefcase to the man, who took it with a firm nod. “We’ll be in touch.”

  The creepy guy turned back to me, his eyes slipping over me again in a way that made my skin crawl. His lips parted in a slow, predatory, leering grin.

  “Be seeing you, sweetheart.”

  I shivered and stepped quickly to the side as he moved past me and out the door.

  “Knock next time you want to interrupt a business meeting of mine,” Frank grumbled, turning and heading to the bar against the far wall of the suite.

  I narrowed my eyes at his back as he started to pour himself a drink. “What are you up to, Frank?”

  He turned, taking a sip of his drink and glaring at me. “Business.”

  “All cash business?”

  “Leave it,” he snapped icily.

  “Mom know about your business?”

  He turned to me then, his eyes narrowing to slits as he stepped towards me. “I said, leave it.” He took a slow sip from his glass, his eyes locked on me over the rim. “Remind me why you even came along to this?”

  “Because my mom wanted me to, that’s why.”

  “So go bother her,” he muttered, turning away from me.

  “Relax, Frank, it’s only a few more days. You’ll be rid of me soon,” I said with a roll of my eyes.

  “Not soon enough.”

  I snorted. “Excuse me?”

  “I married your mother, Cassandra. Not you.”

  “Oh, you mean you married my mother’s money, right, Frank?”

  He turned, a cold look on his face. “Enjoy the rest of your free vacation, Cassandra.”


  I skipped my mom’s invitation to dinner with her and Frank that night.

  I just couldn’t.

  I’d checked with her at the resort cafe after leaving the awkward run-in with Frank, where she was nibbling at a lunch salad and sipping chardonnay. And I did want to spend time with her, especially in a place like this. With me working in New York for the nonprofit, and her still back in L.A., it wasn’t like we got to spe
nd all that much time together. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to stomach dinner that night, not with Frank there, and not after the weirdness I’d walked in on.

  Instead, I sat on the steps of my cabana again, sipping a gin and tonic I’d poured from the bar in the room,looking out over the moonlit ocean. For the millionth time — especially on nights like this — my thoughts wandered to Simon and Tina.

  That bitch.

  In a way, I knew I’d dodged a bullet. A guy like Simon was always going to leave like that in the end. The warning signs had been there for a long time before he actually had, but I’d ignored them for months. After all, if I ignored them, I could keep myself in the ignorance bubble. Things might not have been perfect, but they were…something.

  I rolled my eyes at myself at the thought. God, how pathetic did that make me sound?

  I took another sip of my drink, when suddenly, I realized I’d been hearing music, even if I wasn’t sure when it’d started. I sat up and glanced towards the thumping beats, further down the beach back by the main resort buildings.


  There, out by the pool area, a whole dance-party of sorts seemed to have sprung up. Strobe lights, an elevated DJ booth, lasers, and pumping electronic dance music. The whole area was packed too. I could even see that from my cabana. Tanned, toned bodies in swimsuits and formalwear alike danced and swirled and moved to the throbbing beats.

  …And there I was, sitting by myself like a total dork, moping about being single.

  Screw it.

  I was on vacation, after all. I was single, in a place like this, and I had two choices. I could sit there drinking and feeling sorry for myself, and grumbling about my situation.

  Or I could go out and do something about it.

No Previous Page Next Page
Should you have any enquiry, please contact us via [email protected]