The Proposition (The Plus One Chronicles)

by Lyon, Jennifer

  Kat was dismissing him. As if he were that kid again, no more than a dishwasher. He grabbed the glass and slammed it into a holder. He wasn’t letting it end like this.

  Ethan opened the door on her side.

  “Close the damn door,” he snapped.

  “No.” Kat put her hand out, forcing Ethan to catch the door before it hit her. She got out.

  “Fuck this.” He threw open his door, went around the limo and caught her hands, halting her before she could escape to her condo.

  For the first time since they’d left her parents’ house, something sparked in her face. A flicker. What exactly was that?

  And why was he standing here, going after a woman who didn’t want him? Who shut down emotionally when the going got tough?

  He had no idea, except that Kat challenged him, blasting right through his training and self-control to reveal a very raw, primal man. And that man wasn’t leaving.

  He glanced at Ethan. “Hang tight.” Wrapping his arm around Kat’s shoulders, he took the keys from her unresisting hand and unlocked the front door.

  She walked in, and he stood there, knowing if he crossed that threshold…

  “You did your thing, Sloane. I’m safe in the house.”

  Her eyes fixed over his shoulder, ignoring him. The thread of common sense snapped, and he strode in, forcing her to step back.

  Slammed the door. And stalked her.

  She backed up. Right into the wall behind the door. She tried to stare into the distance.

  Sloane smacked his hands against the wall on either side of her head.

  Her gaze shot to his. Wide and focused. Right there with him.

  Color started rising into her face. He caught the tie hanging down the front of her shirt and wrapped it around his hand. “I told you before, you want to tell me to fuck off, then say it to my face. But you don’t hide behind a wall.” Christ, he was losing his mind.

  She sucked in a breath. “Right, ’cause you’re Sloane Michaels. No one tells you no.”

  He lowered his face to hers and tugged on that tie just enough. “Say no. Or tap out. Do it.”

  She glared at him. “You’re a goddamned bully.”

  “Keep taunting me.” His cock was getting hard, his blood running hot. But there was fire in her gaze now.

  “And? What are you going to do?”

  He brushed his thumb across her throat, catching the flutter of her pulse. Her mouth parted, her chest rising and falling fast beneath his hand. He examined her face. “You need this, don’t you? You need to be scared, pushed, challenged. You need to be able to fight back.”

  She grabbed his hand, trying to move it off her throat and pull it from the tie of her shirt. “Yes, okay? I want to feel whole. I want to just feel.”

  He released her shirt, caught her hands and pressed them against the wall over her head. “What do you feel now, Kitten? I have you pinned. Helpless.”

  “Bullshit. I can stop you.”

  “How?” Christ, how sick was he that he got off on this shit? “Come on, Kat. How?” He stayed right in her face, pressuring her.

  She used her thumb to tap three times on his hand.

  Sloane released her. Stepped back.

  She tilted her chin, smiling in triumph.

  His breath caught, strangled right there in his chest. She was fucking gorgeous. Bold pink streaks in her hair, and her eyes burning with victory. Damn near felt the heat of her glory, and he sure as hell wanted to touch it. More than touch it.

  He crowded into the space he’d just vacated. “That’s round one.” Coasting a finger down the side of her throat, he felt her shiver. Her nipples pebbled beneath her shirt and bra. He looked up. “Wanna go for round two, Kitten?” He caressed the sensitive skin at her nape. “You want me to strip off your clothes and make you feel? Make you come? No holds barred? Think hard, Kat. Yes means fuck me now until I scream your name.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Sloane’s voice teemed with sinful promise.

  Exhilaration raced from the roots of her hair to the soles of her feet. Her nipples chafed against her bra, and her panties were going from damp to embarrassing.

  No man had made her feel this whole. In control and strong and wildly desperate. Like he could come at her with everything he had, all six-and-a-half-feet and two-hundred-plus pounds of raw, untamed male, and she could stop him with one finger.

  But why would she when all he wanted to give her was pleasure? Riding the moment, she blurted, “I want that.”

  A shudder rippled through him. He fished his cell out of his pants and thumbed the screen. “Texting Ethan.”

  Right. She’d forgotten his driver waited.

  Sloane returned to her and hovered, his brown eyes growing richer.

  “What?”

  “You. So brave, Kitten. You were born a fighter, a woman of passion, and you spent your life trying to force yourself to be passive. But now you’re letting her out.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “Trust that woman, Kat. If you want to stop, we stop.”

  Wild flutters beat at her heart, and for a second, tears stung. It went beyond lust, this was trust. A bond forming that scared her in places even her panic attacks didn’t touch. Sloane saw her, believed in her.

  All her life, Kat wasn’t good enough. Not smart enough, not valuable enough. And since her injury—broken. Shattered. She didn’t know how the pieces fit back together. But Sloane’s deep, tawny eyes showed her a different view.

  As if she were healing into the woman she was meant to be.

  Tilting her head, she kissed him.

  He bent his knees, wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her. He cupped the back of her head in his palm and took possession of her mouth, filling her with his sensual flavor.

  Kat hooked her legs around his waist. That left her open, exposed to the heavy, thick ridge of his cock straining through their clothes against her core.

  Latching on to her hip, he pressed her into him and groaned in approval.

  The vibrations and pressure built low in her belly. She wanted it, wanted the feel of a man moving inside her. Wanted to feel his skin against hers. She tugged at his shirt buttons.

  Sloane broke the kiss. Holding her, he started walking. “Bedroom.”

  “Left. End of hall.” She wiggled, yanking his shirt from his pants.

  Sloane’s long legs ate up the distance to her bedroom. Moonlight streamed in from the window, drenching her king-sized bed with the blue comforter and piles of pillows.

  He kicked the door shut, strode to the bed and set her to her feet. In a smooth motion, he pulled her top off.

  The air hit her bared skin, and doubts crept back in. Sloane had been with a lot of woman. It had been five years for her.

  His warm hand settled on her cheek. “Want to slow down?”

  The glow from the moon emphasized his savage beauty, yet his hand on her provided gentle support. Reassured, she shook her head and shoved the shirt off his shoulders, revealing the tattoo on his right biceps. Swirls of flames around the letter S created a powerful image. Far as she could tell it was his only tattoo. “Tell me about your tat?”

  He glanced at the ink, quicksilver anguish lashing through his brown eyes. “Later.”

  That instant of vulnerability endeared him to her more than anything else, filled her with the need to take away that flicker of pain. She traced over the tightly packed muscles of his chest, finding small scars here and there. Learning the slopes and curves of him to find the spots that made his breath quicken and his pulse spike. She leaned in and licked one nipple.

  Sloane arched and groaned beneath her assault.

  She switched to the other one, feeling her power over him. This time, she grazed him with her teeth, a light bite.

  He bowed into her bite. “Playing with fire.” His breath ruffled her hair. His hands brushed over her back to release her bra and drew it down her arms. “I bite back.”

  Heat speared her nipples, drawing them
into peaks.

  A wicked grin curved his mouth. “You like the idea of me biting these.” He ran his knuckles over her sensitized tips, sending jolts straight to her sex. “But I didn’t say where I’ll bite, Kitten.” His hands burned a path of heat to her pants.

  A thread of anxiety threatened to take hold. He’d bend down to take her pants off and see her scars. Ugly wounds had a way of ruining the mood. To prevent that, Kat circled his wrists.

  Sloane released her, concern swimming in his gaze.

  Wanting him turned on, engaged, she lowered her voice. “Let me.” Catching the button, she released it, dragged down her zipper and shimmied her pants low on her hips.

  “Oh yeah. Keep going.”

  The throaty growl of approval emboldened her. She kicked off her flats and wiggled out of her pants.

  Leaving her in a scrap of black lace. A triangle that barely covered her in the front and sank between the cheeks of her ass in the back.

  Sloane’s heated stare traveled down and caught on that scrap of fabric. When she dipped her thumbs beneath the thin straps riding her hips, he snagged her wrists. “Is that a thong? You won’t wear a skirt, but you’re wearing a thong?”

  “I might be.” Had she ever felt this desirable? This brave?

  Frank appreciation shimmered in his eyes. “For me, Kat? Did you wear it for me?”

  “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  He raked his gaze down. His nostrils flared and his breath hitched. “Best fucking idea ever.” Fusing his mouth to hers, he kissed her with hot, deep lashes of his tongue.

  Kat fell into the kiss, into a shroud of intimacy that pushed everything out but the two of them.

  Sloane kissed over her jaw, down her throat, laved her collarbone. Teased the tender slope of her breast. The rough dampness of his tongue charred her nerve endings. More, she wanted more. Tugging her hands free, she entwined her fingers around the heavy, silky strands of his hair.

  A ripe groan spilled from him, and he closed his lips over her nipple.

  Spikes of heat streaked to her core. Kat arched, pulling him tighter against her. Sensations exploded as he suckled. Her need sharpened, every pull on her nipple riding down to torment her clit. An ache bloomed in that bundle of nerves.

  Sloane sank to his knees and sat back on his heels. With his chest bared, she saw his abs notched with tension. He looked up, a flush spreading across his face. “Show me your thong, Kitten.” His voice downshifted to untamed huskiness. “Turn around.”

  No one had ever made her feel this…sensually savored. Worshipped and wanted. Heady excitement pulsed in her veins, making it easy for her to follow his directions and face the bed.

  He rumbled a soft growl and glided his fingers over her. Cupped her cheeks, molding and caressing. “Your ass has tortured me all night in those pants.” He traced the line of her thong, dipping between her thighs.

  His fingers brushed over the thin material, teasing little touches all the way to her clit. Hot need pooled low in her belly. Then he withdrew.

  Before she could whimper her protest, he tunneled his thumbs beneath the thin straps at her hips. “I’m going to peel these off and show you how mind-blowingly sexy you are.”

  Anticipation tightened her thighs as she felt the gentle tug. The slow descent, traveling the rate of an inch for each beat of her pulse, was maddening. Thrilling.

  Silky material whispered softly, while Sloane’s fingers heated a trail of rougher pleasure. Her panties clung to her damp arousal, stripping away in deliberate and sweet torture. Once he had them at her ankles, she stepped out.

  He rose, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back to his chest. His warmth engulfed her, reassured her. He brushed his lips over her ear, nibbling her lobe, gently scraping his teeth over her shoulder. Before she could fully process that, he played with her nipples, rolling one, tweaking the other.

  She ignited, arching as her blood pounded beneath his tender assault. Her clit bloomed open, begging for his touch. “Sloane.”

  “Right here.” He trailed one hand down her belly and pressed his fingers between her thighs, stroking her cleft. “Hot and wet. So responsive.” The rough pad of his finger abraded her clit.

  She canted into him, clutching his arm. “You’re making me burn.”

  “Right there with you.” Tightening his arm around her, he slid a finger inside her, sinking deep. “Such a tight little cunt,” he groaned against her ear as he retreated and thrust in an electrifying rhythm. “So damned perfect.”

  Pleasure spiraled as she moved against his hand. Kat was losing track, just feeling. His arm around her waist, his chest scorching her back. The ridge of his thick erection pressing against her hips. His fingers thrusting in and out, harder. Deeper. “Oh God.” She threw her head back. Hot chills raced over her skin.

  “Look at me.”

  She turned her head at his command.

  He locked on her. “Let go, Kat. Come, baby.” He eased his thumb down on her clit.

  The orgasm blasted from her clit, with shock waves rushing through every nerve. She dug her fingers into the forearm clamped around her while riding his fingers. She heard buzzing in her ears and Sloane’s harsh breath.

  “Not enough,” he growled. He turned her, eased her down on the bed and dropped to his knees, sliding his shoulder beneath her thighs.

  For a few seconds, everything slowed. Even her heartbeat as Sloane held her open, exposed, and stared. Color stained his face as he spread her with his thumbs. “For me. Just like your thong. Your pussy wet and throbbing is for me.” Hunger glittered in his eyes.

  “Yes.” In that moment, she’d give him anything.

  He leaned in and licked her, delving his tongue through all her folds. Lapping at her. With a deep groan, he teased her clit. She was so sensitive that it only took a minute or two before she was coiling and thrashing, trying to get enough.

  He pushed two fingers deep inside her.

  “Sloane!” Sensual flames lashed her inner walls. Heat flushed her entire body. So close, the fierce need burned. He closed his lips over the pulsating bundle of nerves and sucked. When she thought she’d go insane, he lightly bit her and sent her into a wild orgasm.

  Before the shock waves faded, he left her and stripped off his remaining clothes. He was back, standing between her spread thighs and rolling a condom over the thick head of his cock and down the long shaft.

  Sloane scooped her hips into his hands and spread her wide. He pressed an inch into her and paused. Raw hunger carved his face with brutal longing. The cords on his neck stood out, marking the effort of his restraint. Eyes blazed with the need to take her. Hard.

  Yet he stopped and gazed at her.

  Trust filled her throat. What he gave her in that moment, in checking to make sure she could handle his raging lust, it amazed her. Tilting her hips to draw him in further, she said, “Don’t hold back. I want all of you.” She meant every word.

  Fingers digging into her hips, he pushed in.

  Too slow. Wrapping her legs around him, she urged him deeper.

  “Kat,” he warned. “You’re tight.”

  She clenched her fists in frustration. He’d told her to let go. Held her. Given her exactly what she’d craved even if she didn’t know it. She needed that same wild abandon from him right now. Arching her back, she demanded, “Fuck easy.”

  He froze for one second. One fast beat where the very planes of his face shifted from agonizing patience to savage desire. He pulled out and thrust. Hard. All the way in. Hot color splashed over his cheeks, and his fingers dug into her ass as he fucked her. Locking eyes, he pistoned his hips, driving his cock into her.

  He shifted, raising her hips higher. “Take it, Kat.”

  His heavy ball sac slapped against her ass. “Again. More.” She’d take it all, anything he wanted to give her.

  “Silky. Hot. Fuck!” He surged into her, his muscles popping and ripping. Holding nothing back.

  Wicked fever
scorched through her and spilled out in words. “I want to feel you come.” To see him lose that formidable control in her. No, with her. Her fever skyrocketed. “Please.”

  He leaned over her until they were sharing a single breath. “You do this to me.” His shoulders flexed. His cock swelled bigger. Harder. Hotter as he plunged into her. Marking her.

  “Kat. Fuck!” he panted, coming hard inside her.

  She exploded with him.

  ***

  Sloane couldn’t get a goddamned breath into his lungs. He still had Kat’s ass clamped in his hands, his cock buried balls-deep inside her.

  Sanity was slowly returning. Reason beginning to click, telling him that he’d totally lost control with her.

  And she’d liked it. A hell of a lot judging by the cock-squeezing orgasm she’d just had. She was so beautiful laying there, her skin glowing, her eyes heavy with satisfaction. Kat had worked so hard to push him away in the beginning. But once she’d opened herself, she’d become wild and honest beneath his touch.

  Another aftershock of pleasure shuddered through him at the memory.

  He eased her hips to the bed, pulling out of her. Glancing around in the moonlight, he spotted a door on his left. “That the bathroom?”

  “Yeah.”

  Quickly he walked into the bathroom, got rid of the condom and returned.

  While he’d been gone, Kat had sat up on the edge of the bed with her feet on the floor.

  He stared at her in the pool of light coming from the bathroom. She grasped the edge of the comforter and flipped it over her bad leg. Yeah, that hiding shit? It was going to end now. He joined her and sat to her left. “Let’s get this over with.”

  She shot him a smile. “Thought we just did.”

  “Funny girl. We’ve only started. I’m not nearly done exploring you.” He dropped his attention to her breasts. He hadn’t spent anywhere near the time on them that he wanted to. Feeling the blood begin filling his cock, he shut that thought down. “You’re sitting there naked and hiding your leg.” Sitting back, he patted his thighs. “Scoot around and put your legs here.”