Richard couldn't believe his luck. He stood on the deck of his pristine sailboat and watched the best event he'd ever seen take place before his eyes.



Delanie didn't even look back as the boat motored away from the dock. The schmuck watching her leave did nothing. He didn't hear the conversation, but their body language said it all. She'd been distant and the guy had been needy. The bitch was heartless. Now was his chance. No way would she get away from him now.



The planning would serve him well. He'd watched her for days before he'd made his move. The only variable he hadn't accounted for was the man on the island with her. That had been his biggest mistake. He'd underestimated Delanie's will to stay alive. She'd thrown him for a loop with her counter attack.



This time he'd be prepared. She needed to be drugged first. He could deal with carrying her down to the boat. Taking her would be different than other times. Previously he had to account for potential witnesses. On Delanie's island there would be no witnesses. She'd be alone.



Richard bit down on his lip, producing blood. He wanted this one. The excitement had him almost jumping for joy. He held it together, making sure to not display any emotion. Anyone watching him would only see a man looking west. They might think he was watching the. It would be difficult for anyone to see that he had his sights trained on the fast boat with two passengers.



Now, time to finish up on the plan. He needed to strike quick. He would go in strong and hit her with the tranquilizer. His sailboat would take longer than the cigarette boat she used to return to the island, but this would give her time to start feeling like she had a chance. She didn't.



He went below deck and measured out a dose big enough to drop her. He placed it in the refrigerator on the top shelf. It might be premature, but he liked being ready. The dose would do just as well in the syringe as in the medicine bottle.



After finishing up with the tranquilizer he packed a small bag with rope and handcuffs. The drawer where he placed his toys called to him. He slid open the drawer, fingering the gags and whips. The strap of the ball gag slid through his fingers. He closed his eyes, imagining how wonderful it would be to gag the bitch and make her behave.



Without another thought Richard grabbed the ball gag and stuffed it in his bag. She wouldn't know what hit her. Just the way he wanted the bitch to be. Learning to beg for necessities would come first. Then he would teach her how to please him.



Once back above deck he watched as three other boats weighed anchor. He followed them, allowing the others to lead. With a quick look over his shoulder he saw that the man with Delanie had left the area. Good, now no one would know he'd followed her.



The wind felt good against his face. He lifted the sails and let mother earth guide him. It made him giddy that she blew him in the direction of the island. If he believed in a supreme being then he would think that even god wanted him to have Delanie. But no, he knew better. There was no deity, only pure destiny shaped his purpose.



Delanie was his to behold. The way she'd been in movies, taunting him with her dares of being strong. Sure, she'd landed a lucky hit when he'd tried to take her down on the island, but she wasn't strong.



All acting, he knew that now. All her prancing around on the silver screen was an act used to make him think she was strong. Alpha-female or whatever the hell they were calling it now, she was faking it. He bet she'd never even worked out before.



No, he could take her without any trouble. He owned her. She would be putty in his hands, and oh, he knew exactly what parts his hands would play with first.

Copyright Sara Thacker 2011