Possession (The Plus One Chronicles) Read online

  Possession

  A Plus One Chronicles Novel

  Book Two

  Jennifer Lyon

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locals or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.

  POSSESSION: Book Two of The Plus One Chronicles

  Copyright © 2013 Jennifer Apodaca

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Design: Patricia Schmitt (Pickyme)

  Editor: Sasha Knight

  Formatted by: Author E.M.S.

  Published by JenniferLyonBooks

  http://www.jenniferlyonbooks.com

  ISBN: 978-0-9887923-1-9

  This book bears the Rock*It Reads logo, a mark of distinction for readers seeking quality reads. For more information, visit www.rockitreads.com.

  Important Note

  The Plus One Chronicles is a trilogy that is intended to be read in order:

  Book One

  The Proposition (released 2/26/2013)

  Book Two

  Possession (released 5/28/2013)

  Book Three

  Obsession (coming soon)

  Chapter One

  He’d given her three damn days—she’d better be there. Sloane Michaels yanked open the door to his SLAM Fitness and Training Center in San Diego, California and strode in.

  The public area of the gym vibrated with energy and sweat. Music pounded, weights clanked and voices surged in a rhythm as familiar as his own breathing. Barely nodding at the assorted greetings thrown at him, Sloane focused on his hunt for the only person he wanted to see.

  His blood simmered at the edge of violence that had him primed to fight or fuck. Ever since he’d gotten word that his sister’s killer had walked out of prison a free man, his emotions rode too close to the surface. He needed to focus on his goal now more than ever. No distractions.

  And Kat Thayne was one hell of a distraction.

  But he couldn’t forget her, couldn’t get the taste of her out of his mouth or the feel of her out of his mind. She’d taken up residence in his head, migrating into his thoughts day and night.

  Enough. He needed to find her now. With renewed determination, he searched the gym for Kat.

  She hadn’t shown. He didn’t see her anywhere. Had her car been in the parking lot? He’d been so fixated on getting to her, he hadn’t taken a second to look.

  Go home. I don’t need you to fix this, I have to be strong, and I’m not sure I can do that with you around. Her words from Sunday rang in his head while her beautiful but tormented eyes haunted him.

  Unacceptable. They’d made a deal, and she would damn well keep up her end. He would not let her dickhead ex fiancé screw this up. Kat wanted to get strong enough to deal with that asshole? Then she’d train with him. Sloane pivoted to leave. If she didn’t have the guts to show up, he’d go and get her.

  Cherry, one of the receptionists, waylaid him. “Mr. Michaels.”

  He resisted the urge to brush right by her. He only wanted one thing—to find Kat and drag her ass here to spar, or to the nearest bed.

  They were not done. He needed her, needed to finish what they had started so he could clear his head.

  But Sloane hadn’t built his SLAM Inc. empire without having self-control. “What do you need, Cherry?”

  The girl stepped back. “Uh, Ms. Thayne is in the private sparring room. She seemed nervous, so I thought she’d be more comfortable there.”

  Relief flowed from his temples down to ease his jaw, neck and shoulders. “Thanks.” He spun, found the door, punched in the code and entered.

  Holy Christ.

  Sloane’s blood stilled at the sight. Kat spread out on the blue workout mat, her pink-streaked brown hair braided down her back, revealing her iPod ear buds. Her eyes were closed as she went through yoga stretches. When she pushed up to downward-facing dog, ass in the air, head down, back straight, the beauty of her long lines dried his mouth.

  All but her right leg. That one, she had bent to accommodate the plates and screws holding her tibia together.

  Kat rose, lifted her arms and curved her spine in a backbend. The arc revealed the strip of her flat stomach from her hipbones to her ribs. Her pants molded over her hips down to the V of her thighs.

  Sloane ached to touch her. Seeing her warmed the cold dark pit in his gut, the place where he shoved the shit dogging him—his mentor dying and a murderer set free to live. Sloane got rid of his shoes and socks, and crossed the mat just as Kat straightened.

  Her eyes widened to blue-green pools. “Oh, I didn’t hear you come in.” She tugged out her ear buds.

  His cock swelled, throbbed. Sloane wrapped his hands around her waist, his fingers scorched by the strip of bare skin.

  “It’s a good thing you showed.” He stared into her eyes, trying to see past her barriers. Sloane wasn’t used to this need inside him, this compulsion to strip her to her soul.

  Not just her body, but all of her.

  He stroked his thumbs over her belly. “I’m not ready to let you go. Not yet.” Kat tempted something long dead inside of him. But this lust would burn out, it always did. To think it was anything more was foolish at best. Dangerous at worst.

  She sucked in a breath, her face flushing. “It wasn’t your choice. It was mine.”

  Maybe it was a choice for her. For him, it was a compulsion. “What made you decide?”

  Her stomach tensed beneath his fingers. “I’m in control of my life, and this is what I want. Maybe I failed to stop David this time, but next time I won’t. I’m learning to fight back.”

  That’s what drew him to her with a magnetic force. She didn’t want to be rescued, Kat wanted to rescue herself. That attracted him like nothing else. His mother still blamed Sloane for the way her life had turned out. Blamed everyone but herself.

  Not Kat. She worked to change what she didn’t like. And what she couldn’t change, like the damage to her leg, she adapted to.

  Sloane lowered his head, inhaling her scent. She must have baked cinnamon rolls at work today. His mouth watered at the thought of licking her skin, searching for any traces of cinnamon. “Is that the only reason you’re here? To learn to fight?” He needed this from her, had to know she was as affected by him as he was by her.

  “No.”

  He prompted her, digging further. “What else do you want?”

  “You. I like the way I push my boundaries with you.” She swallowed. “All of them. Physically and sexually.”

  The air in the room sizzled from the connection between them, arcing like a live wire. He had to take some control back before she drove him to his knees with her honesty and trust.

  “You’re in my gym now, baker girl. Time to push some of those boundaries.”

  The vulnerability in her eyes hardened into determination. “I stretched. I’m ready to work.”

  “Not yet.” Huskiness coated his voice.

  “No?” She tilted her head up.

  “Not until I kiss you.” He brushed his mouth over hers, kissing his way to her ear. “And you burn for me like I’ve been burning for you. For three fucking days.” And nights. Even while he trained, something that had been unheard of before Kat.

  Her responsive shudder excited him more. Sloane angled her head back to ravage her mouth. God, her taste. So decadent that he slowed his assault to savor it and gently s
ucked on her tongue.

  She melted against him and twined her fingers into his hair.

  The tug on his scalp scalded straight to his groin. Cupping her hips, he lifted Kat to press his erection to the hot center between her legs.

  Wrapping her thighs around his waist, she moaned into his mouth and shot the last vestiges of his control all to hell.

  He either stopped now, or he’d take her hard against the wall of the training room. As tempting as that was, it was also not happening, not when there was a chance someone could come in. Naked Kat was for his eyes only. This might be temporary between them, but he’d damn well protect her while she was his. He broke free of the kiss, but her desire-swollen pupils didn’t help. Laying his forehead against hers, he sucked in oxygen. “Now we’re warmed up.”

  He didn’t want to put her down. Hell, if he could get away with it, he’d whisk her to his house, lock them in his bedroom and lose himself in her. For hours or days, as long as it took to calm the clawing need burning in his blood.

  “For training or for sex?” Her breath feathered his face, while her teasing words went deeper.

  “Both. Train first.” Because he knew how important this was to her. Kat needed to overcome her panic attacks. “After that we’ll shower, get some dinner, and then I’ll get you naked and keep you that way.”

  For as long as it took to burn out the fire between them, so he could focus on what he had to do.

  Avenge his sister.

  * * *

  Stares followed them to the table and hadn’t let up, but Kat determinedly ignored the gawkers. Those prying eyes weren’t looking at her. No, it was the six-and-a-half feet of savage beauty next to her that had commanded attention from the second they’d entered The Melting Pot.

  Sloane took up most of the booth, and way too much of her head space. For three days, she’d thought of little else but him and their deal. When Sloane had rescued her from David, she’d been blindsided by the wild urge to throw herself into Sloane’s arms. That need to rely on him had terrified her. He made it too easy to lean on him. She feared she would lose herself, lose the woman she was working so hard to become.

  Kat had needed to step back. But now here she was, back with Sloane.

  “Try the spinach artichoke fondue.”

  Snapping out of her thoughts, she focused on Sloane holding out a fork with a cube of bread dripping in a rich sauce.

  He grinned. “Now I have your attention.”

  “You never lost it.” Crap. Probably shouldn’t have told him that.

  After setting down the fork, Sloane leaned closer, sienna heat flaring in his eyes. “You thought about me.”

  “Too much.” He didn’t let her retreat into that safe place in her head where she could distance herself from pleasure or pain. It made being with him exhilarating and scary. “And then for three days…I slipped back into that numb, gray state.” Kat didn’t want to be a coward anymore, afraid of rejection, criticism and panic attacks. She didn’t want to just exist, she wanted to live.

  “Are you feeling now?”

  His deep voice and searing focus heated her skin. “Yes.”

  Challenge radiated from him. “I won’t let you pull back. You retreat, I’m coming after you. Hear me, Kitten?”

  Her pulse jacked. He’d done it before, pinning her to a wall and taunting her until she’d fought back. She’d loved it, thrilled in the powerful sensation. Yet she had the ultimate weapon. “I can tap out.” Her safe gesture.

  He leaned in, brushing her mouth with his. “Always.” Getting a fresh fork, he dipped another cube of bread in the sauce. “Eat.” He slipped the bread into her mouth.

  The rich, vivid flavors glided over her tongue.

  “Good?”

  “Oh yeah.” Better than anything she’d eaten in days.

  “Keep that up, and I’m not going to be able to stand up to leave.”

  At least it wasn’t only her drowning in desire. Kat dipped a vegetable slice in the pot. “Seems to be a recurring problem. I noticed it in the gym.”

  “You were the direct cause of it in the gym.”

  She’d been nervous as hell about seeing him. What if their attraction had died off? What if he’d lost interest? Then he’d kissed her and all her doubts had vanished. “And yet, you insisted we work out, shower and eat.” She’d been willing to skip the eating part.

  “I have ulterior motives for feeding you.” He tempted her with more dipped bread. “Eat up, baker girl, you’ll need the energy to feel.”

  So sure of himself, and why wouldn’t he be? One kiss, and she’d melted into a pool of aching desire. “Sorry, too tired for any more strenuous exercise after the hour and a half of drills you put me through.”

  He played with a lock of her hair. “Not buying it, Kat. You love training. If I hadn’t called a halt, we’d still be in the gym. You have more drive than some of the champion fighters I know.”

  Absently she rubbed her leg. Fear of being a helpless victim again stirred in her. “I need to get better. Once I have the skill and knowledge of how to handle a bad situation, I think my residual panic attacks will stop.”

  Curiosity sparked in his eyes. “What convinced you?”

  “David.” A few days time had given her a better perspective. She hadn’t failed to take care of herself, but rather, had taken steps toward getting stronger. She’d stood up to David at first, and that she was proud of. “I managed to break his hold on me once. And it felt pretty damn good. It was the first time I felt in control since the two of us were supposedly mugged.”

  A mugging that wasn’t a mugging. At least…she didn’t think so. David didn’t want her memories of that night to come back, but Kat did. She needed to know the truth.

  Sloane smiled. “I’ll bet it did.”

  “But then David lunged at me, pinning me to the wall. I tried a knee strike, but I did it wrong.” Scowling, she admitted, “That’s when I lost control, and the panic took hold. But if I train enough, it’ll become a reflex.” Determination bled into her voice. “I’ll know what to do. I won’t panic.”

  “You’re going to kick his ass one day. And I’m going to watch.”

  That startled a laugh from her. “Well, he’s safe this week since he’s on the east coast. And I’m still training.”

  Sloane was right, she loved training and gaining the tools to conquer her panic. It had been a long time coming, but Kat was almost to the point where she could see a future that she wouldn’t be afraid to live.

  Sloane pushed aside his plate. “You’re getting there, Kat. But it takes time and practice.” He sat back as the servers came to clear away the appetizers and set dinner on the table.

  Kat dug into her mahi mahi, testing the dipping sauces while Sloane tackled his steak and cold lobster. But her thoughts were still on training. “How did you get so good?” Waving her hand at him, she said, “Aside from being born big and brawny. How did you learn?” He’d not only won three UFC championships, but he’d gone on to begin SLAM Inc. What had created that ambition in him?

  Sloane set some lobster on her plate. “I grew up poor and rough. Aside from that, I have a couple black belts. That not only helped me develop some skill but discipline.”

  Kat forgot about her food. “Two black belts?” Oh she desperately wanted to ask more about his years growing up. They were plus-ones though, not building a relationship, so she iced her nosiness.

  “In jujitsu and tae kwon do.” Glancing at her plate, he nudged her hand. “Try the lobster.”

  Kat dipped the lobster in his sauce while thinking about the serious dedication it must have taken to get black belts in two different disciplines. “What made you want to become a fighter?”

  He kept his attention on cutting his steak. “I went to a UFC fight and discovered my passion.”

  Too easy. And irritating. “Do I look like a reporter?”

  Surprise lifted his eyebrows. “Meaning?”

  “That was your standard answer
for your bio and interviews. I’d like to know something more than that about the man I’m sleeping with.” He made her feel like he understood her. She wanted to know him on that same level.

  He stared at her until she shifted uncomfortably.

  “Fine, you don’t have to tell me.” Shut out by his silence, she ate mechanically. Didn’t matter, she wasn’t interviewing the man she’d spend her life with so—

  “I didn’t like going hungry, and I fucking hated being invisible or pitied.” His voice was as dark as his eyes. “People don’t want to see you when you’re poor or homeless or desperate. Believe me, that creates a drive to make them see you. By the time I was twelve or thirteen I was an angry, troubled kid heading for an early grave or prison.”

  Hating his suffering, she curled her hand around his granite forearm. What could she say? She’d grown up in a rich family, and he knew it. Their backgrounds couldn’t have been more different. And yet today, Sloane was the one who was centered and Kat had all the issues. How was that for irony?

  “I met a man who introduced me to mixed martial arts and UFC. That was my ticket out.” The ugly memories polluting his eyes faded. “I used all that anger to train, knowing one day I’d make it.”

  He’d pulled himself out of a life of poverty. Kat didn’t pretend she could really understand that, but she did know what it was like to be judged for something you couldn’t control. “You did it. And you made them see you for what you made of yourself, not what you were born into.”

  Sloane turned his arm and captured her hand. “You drag more shit out of me than anyone else I know.”

  Oh she liked that, even if he didn’t. “Seems fair since you do the same to me.”

  “Ready for dessert?”

  Kat jumped at the intrusion of their server’s voice.

  Sloane glanced at her plate. “We’re ready.”

  During the flurry of activity as plates were cleared, dessert wheeled out to present the flambéed combination of milk chocolate, caramels and pecans, Sloane kept his attention on her.