Their Shy Submissive (Pleasure Island Book 3) Read online

  THEIR SHY SUBMISSIVE

  PLEASURE ISLAND BOOK 3

  ANYA SUMMERS

  BLUSHING BOOKS

  Contents

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Anya Summers

  EBook Offer

  Blushing Books Newsletter

  Blushing Books

  ©2017 by Blushing Books® and Anya Summers

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blushing Books®,

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  Anya Summers

  Their Shy Submissive

  EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-280-1

  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

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  CHAPTER 1

  “P leasure Island front desk, this is Yvette, how may I help you?” Yvette said for the umpteenth time in the last hour, and her day had barely begun. Most of the guests visiting the island tended to get a late start. Which was fine by Yvette; it gave her mornings that were peaceful, for the most part. When you manned the registration desk at a hotel and resort, there was constant activity. Typically, her mornings were chock full of calls from potential guests wanting to schedule a visit.

  New guests to the island didn’t arrive until ten at the earliest each day. One of the boat captains, Shep, Deke, or Derek, would make the first ferry run of the morning at eight—although today, there had been a guest who needed to depart rather early to catch a flight, and they had accommodated his request. It was about an hour’s journey from the island to Nassau to pick up guests and anything else they might need. Then they would return. So Yvette had plenty of time to herself which she only had to share with the occasional early morning guest. She could smell the heavenly biscuits Mrs. Davos liked to cook each day. The yeasty, buttermilk scent filled the lobby. They were the best; Mrs. Davos added a little honey and cinnamon to the batter, and they just melted in your mouth.

  Yvette loved it: the fast pace, the need to think quite literally on her feet to accommodate a guest, management, or maintenance, while battling weather conditions, ill patrons, and even the occasional death—which they, thankfully, had not had on the island so far. At the hotel she’d worked in in Florida, however, finding a deceased guest in a room had been a more common occurrence than one might expect.

  So far that day, she had scheduled departures on the ferries for four couples, made two dozen reservations, directed an applicant who had arrived on the early ferry up to Master Jared’s office, filled an office supply order, ordered supplies for the maids, and had spoken with the pool staff. It was barely nine in the morning.

  Master Jared—the owner of Pleasure Island, a BDSM themed resort for those in the lifestyle—strode into the lobby, his white tank top plastered to his sinuous physique. Yvette didn’t know a submissive who didn’t have the hots for Jared. He was about as sexy as a man had a right to be. If she weren’t so defective when it came to social interactions with men, and Doms in particular, she would have already cast her net for him. As it was, she had the proverbial foot in mouth disease when it came to men she was attracted to. So much so that she almost forgot she had messages for Jared.

  “Master J,” Yvette said, stopping him as he walked past the glossy black front desk that was her domain.

  “What can I do for you, Yvette lass?” Master Jared said. His voice always carried a hint of Scots brogue. His intense stare made her want to fidget with her pinstripe navy skirt and double check that she was put together appropriately. And that accent made her want to squirm. Yvette didn’t know what it was about his accent, but it was a panty-melter.

  She forced herself to redirect her focus to the tasks before her, otherwise Yvette would say something she would regret later—and to her boss, the man who paid her to live at the resort, free from her family’s censure, where she could be who she was. The last thing she wanted to do was muck it up by blurting out, ‘Hey, Master J, I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’re the master of multiple orgasms, and I’d like to take a test drive.’

  If she were alone, she’d beat her head against the wall. Yvette had
to get a grip. He wasn’t interested in her, and instead, she said, “Your appointment, the interview, is waiting in your office for you.”

  “Already?” he asked. He was panting, his breathing heavy from his morning run. She envied the damn sweat coating his ultra-fine form. She’d watched him run along the beach a few times. All the subs on the island had; because their boss was a prime grade A hunk of Dom, whom they liked to watch for the sheer pleasure of masculinity at its finest. There was no harm in looking, and when the specimen was this magnificent, it was damn near a requirement.

  “Yes, Sir. She caught Deke’s boat over,” Yvette explained further, and typed something into her computer. If her hands were busy, she wouldn’t say something stupid and reckless that would cost her her job—or more.

  “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll see to the interview in a bit.” He gave her a small nod with a grin.

  When the man smiled, he transformed from merely handsome to drop dead gorgeous. It caused her brain to go blank. Yvette shivered and glanced away, spying her note. “Oh, and I almost forgot, Jeff wanted you to stop by surveillance.”

  Jared saluted her and gave her another grin. Heat suffused her body and she returned his smile.

  “I will do that on my way. See you at the club this evening.” His accent was thick and his voice dripping with innuendo.

  Yvette couldn’t contain the shiver as it raced along her spine. “Yes, Master J,” she replied. Excitement flooded her veins.

  Did he want to do a scene with her tonight? As much as there was a part of her that knew screwing the boss or any of the other employees on the island was a relatively dumb idea, she’d have to be stupid to turn Jared down. She’d heard about his legendary skills. She hadn’t seen them on the island first-hand, but Sherry had definitely been filling all of their ears with his prowess.

  She watched him leave, his presence filling the marble lobby. Jared was one impressive Dom, and any sub who caught his eye was a lucky girl indeed. Yvette wanted to pinch herself as he left the lobby. Had that really happened the way she thought? Then the phone rang, spoiling the fantasy building in her mind, and she went back to work.

  With a sigh filling her voice, she picked up the black receiver and said, “Front desk, this is Yvette, how may I be of service?”

  “Yvette, it’s Shep. Do I have any more passengers for this morning’s ferry run?” His voice sounded like brandy and cigars, and curled pleasurably inside her chest. Master Shep always made her want to fan herself, like her skin was three sizes too small and suddenly the temperature rocketed past a hundred. It resonated inside her as if he was specifically calibrated to charge her gaskets.

  Dammit. He wasn’t interested. Get over it, already. Jeesh. Jared had shown interest, and that was a first since Yvette had arrived on the island. She couldn’t hold out hope that Shep would notice her.

  “Let me check for you, Sir,” she murmured into the mouthpiece.

  Without setting the phone down, she scanned the itinerary of passengers scheduled to depart that day. The list that registration had sent Shep last evening had not changed. Most guests weren’t scheduled to depart until the afternoon. “No, Sir, I don’t have anyone else listed for this morning. Your afternoon trips are booked solid, though.”

  “Thanks, I will get underway then.” His baritone resonated and she wished he would invite her. And for more than just a trip to Nassau. As much as she loved Jared’s brogue, Shep’s voice was on another level; it stirred her in elemental ways even she didn’t fully understand.

  “Bon voyage, Sir,” Yvette said, wanting to disconnect the call before she did something inherently idiotic and propositioned him.

  “Call me if you need anything.” Shep disconnected the line. He was always so abrupt.

  And as much as she thought Master Jared was the bees knees, there was something about Master Shep. It was fundamental. He stimulated her with his forthright gazes, but he’d never asked her to do a scene with him at the club. Shep was a bit of a package deal with his partner in crime, the sinfully sexy Master Deke. Yvette could barely imagine having one Dom wanting her, two was a fantasy best left alone. The last thing she wanted or needed in her life was more disappointment. She didn’t need to give life the crow bar to accomplish the job.

  She shrugged, trying to pretend it didn’t matter that she had been on the island for three months and still had not had one Dom truly take an interest in her. Instead of examining the whys and wherefores of her ineptitude as a submissive, she immersed herself in her work that day. She didn’t want to trust the hope swimming in her chest, but as the day progressed, it grew.

  At last she might finally have a Dom interested in her.

  YVETTE TOOK her time getting ready for the club. It wasn’t every day that a Master showed any interest in her. Granted, she’d been too scared to wear her employee cuffs since arriving on the island. It was her own fault, she had let her insecurities control her actions. She applied the finishing touches on her make-up. It was a shame, really, that when it came to actually interacting with a Dom, she was about as shy as one could be. That had always been her MO—not just with Doms, but crowds of people in general. As a little girl, she had been so painfully shy she had never even looked up at people, and knew them by their knees alone.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to do a scene with a Dom or get to know one. God, did she ever. Her deepest wish was to find the one Dom whom she could belong to, metaphorical warts and all. It had been so long since she had been touched that she wondered if, when a Dom finally did pry her legs open, there would be a plume of dust. She had always been socially awkward as a child and had never really grown out of it. Yvette had forced herself to be better, and she was, but then the anxiety would rear its ugly head at times, tending to cripple her already awkward social interactions. As much as she loved being a submissive, she wasn’t forward.

  It didn’t help that her mother, as well meaning as she was, had called yesterday. Again. It had been another attempt to try and convince Yvette to come home and stop what her mother considered an act of rebellion on her part.

  As much as she wished it didn’t hurt, her mother’s unwillingness to accept Yvette as she was, instead of how she wanted her to be, had left scars on her psyche.

  Yvette had painstakingly made her outward appearance look like she had her act together. She had perfected the ability to walk into a crowded room and conceal that, on the inside, she’d rather be anywhere else. In reality, Yvette far preferred small, one-on-one gatherings, or just being at home alone.

  The problem was, a girl couldn’t meet a Dom sitting in her favorite comfy chair and reading. If there was a magical fairy that could drop one in her lap, then Yvette would wish for it. As it was, she was forced to go out and be social. She could do it for work, because that was her job. She was paid to do it, and here, she was paid well.

  Yvette liked it on the island. She liked her place. The small, one-bedroom apartment with its hardwood floors and Spanish style influences suited her well, although she did hope that her large four-poster bed would get more of a workout than it had so far. She did long to have a cat, though, someone who wouldn’t care that she didn’t do well in crowds, and who would cuddle with her. It was something she had considered asking Master J about too many times to count but she’d always chicken out. Maybe if he engaged in a scene with her tonight, she’d feel more comfortable asking him for what she wanted.

  For the club that night, she’d chosen an outfit that offered easy access for an enterprising Dom. She wore a leather bustier, with a front zipper that displayed her rather ample, double D cleavage. Black, thigh high stockings, with a black leather garter, black thong, and an itty bitty red plaid skirt that left nothing to the imagination, completed the ensemble.

  She styled her hair into one long, sleek black ponytail trailing down to her mid-back. If there was one thing she had been blessed with, it was great hair. It was midnight black, thick, and she could style it however she wanted.
And it was one of her deepest hopes that, arranged this way, it would entice a certain Master to pull on it.

  Her stomach tied itself in knots as she donned her stilettos and headed out her door. Her apartment was on the first floor, but due to the way Master Jared had designed the island residences, she still had a full flight of stairs to contend with. Yvette didn’t mind. She had a stunning view of the Gulf of Mexico right outside her front door. There was a barbeque area and a sand volleyball area nearby, and on the opposite side of the apartment building there was a state-of-the-art fitness center. All the employees had their own golf cart assigned to them, to ferry them around the island. Yvette was no exception and she climbed into hers. She’d hung a pair of fluffy pink cuffs from the rearview mirror to help distinguish hers from everyone else’s vehicle.

  As the motor started, she was supremely thankful for the convenience. There was no way she would hike in heels in the humidity and heat through the interior island jungle. Even though there was a lighted path, she wasn’t much of an outdoor girl. Her skin tended to burn to awful shades of pink and red, so she avoided long spells out in the sun. But that didn’t mean the island didn’t have its charm and appeal. She loved it there.

  And it would be even better if she could find a Dom who wanted her. Maybe one who would treat her well and wouldn’t tell her she was defective. Yvette parked her cart in the employee section. Shutting off the motor, she curled her hands into fists to try to stop their trembling. The white employee cuffs with the island symbol emblazoned upon them in red stood out even against her pale skin. She gulped in a few deep breaths.