Possession

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
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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.