Burning Obsession: 100 Shades of Sin

By Calista Fox

Her head whipped around. Long, sleek blond strands slashed across her face, sticking to her crimson lips. Her gaze locked with mine. Her tawny, mostly golden eyes were wide. Excitement—hot and bright—flared in them.

That was when it happened. Lightning struck.

For two years, Kyle Jenns dodged danger and bullets with his now-best friend, Ari Bax, when ruined investors of the exclusive resort 10,000 Lux sabotaged not just the hotel, but also targeted Ari. Now with the bad guys locked up and Kyle being a full-fledged bodyguard and head of security at the Lux, he’s ready to start the next chapter of his life. Having absolutely no idea it’s going to happen the moment he lays eyes on a stunning blond named Tamera Fenmore.
The chemistry between them is instantaneous and hot. But Tamera’s suddenly in the crosshairs of a killer, needing Kyle’s protection as much as she needs his passionate kisses. The danger escalates along with Kyle’s own burning obsession for Tamera—and everything he’s learned as a bodyguard will be put to the ultimate test when it comes to saving her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Nov 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781250096463

Calista Fox

Calista Fox is a former PR professional, now writing fast-paced, steamy books to set your pulse racing! Her publishing houses include St. Martin’s Press, Grand Central Publishing and Harlequin. Her debut SMP trilogy opens with BURNED DEEP and concludes with book four, starring the trilogy’s secondary hero! She is an Amazon bestseller and has won many Reviewer’s and Reader’s Choice Awards, as well as Best Book Awards and other competitions with publication as first prize. Calista is a college graduate and teaches online writing classes. She is also a Past President/Advisor of the Phoenix chapter of the Romance Writers of America national organization.

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Prologue

Dreams come and go, some flaring brilliantly and then fading into oblivion.

I was a high school football star, my future so bright I went to college on a full-ride athletic scholarship. I was the quarterback my team, the coaches, the alum, and the fans—not to mention the pretty cheerleaders in their short skirts—hoped would give the Arizona State University Sun Devils undefeated status and the first Rose Bowl win since 1987, along with a National Championship.

But I’d had a shitty offensive line my first two seasons and the defense continually broke through. Continually broke me. I weathered the storm, lying through my teeth about the pain—and the injections and pills I took in order to keep playing.

I’d always thought I was strong of body and mind, but as graduation approached and I faced the pro draft—my ultimate goal within reach—I had to question what I was really capable of. Question my invincibility, which I’d never doubted until my senior year at ASU.

What if my ego couldn’t cover the damage to my knee? What would happen when I was thirty and washed up? Would I even be able to walk?

I, Kyle Jenns, have had dreams like everyone else.

Some pie in the sky, sure.

Pro ball.

Ari DeMille.

Or should I say Mrs. Ari DeMille Bax?

The day my best friend, Ari, married her one and only true love, Dane Bax—for the second time, due to near-deadly circumstances beyond anyone’s control—my vision for the future changed again. I’d watched her dad escort her down the aisle at the megaresort her husband had built. Surrounded by red-rock canyons in scenic Sedona, Arizona, 10,000 Lux was the perfect venue for their over-the-top wedding. I’d stood at the altar. Serving yet again as her best man.

I’d smiled at her, but she had literally looked right through me. Right past me. Past all of us.

All she could see was Dane.

And that was when the spell had been broken. Like my football dream coming to a screeching halt as reality slammed into me the way so many linebackers had on the field, the fantasy of Ari choosing me over Dane vaporized.

I was released from the tangled Ari/Dane/Kyle web that day.

Only to be catapulted into an edge-of-my-seat and all-consuming love no one had seen coming.

Especially me.

Chapter One

"That was the absolute best chimichanga ever," said Grace Hart, an attractive brunette I wasn’t quite dating, but the potential existed. If I’d man up and go for it.

You should have tried the machaca beef enchiladas, I told her.

No way. She shook her head as we left El Rincon in the upscale Mexican village–styled shopping conglomerate of Tlaquepaque in Sedona. There were restaurants, boutiques, and art galleries all set on the bank of Oak Creek. I wasn’t willing to give up a single bite of my dish for yours. Thank you very much for offering, but … holy cow. That was a fantastic meal.

Meg Aldridge chimed in, saying, Come on now, peeps. Nothing beats the shrimp rellenos. She was a perky blonde who’d married my good friend and Sun Devils teammate, Sean, two years ago. I’d met both Grace and Ari because of the Delfino-Aldridge event. Grace was the bartender at the resort’s lounge. Ari had orchestrated the grandiose affair.

With a scoff, Sean told his wife, Woman, seriously. Nothing goes with El Rincon margaritas like the chicken fajitas.

Sorry you only got to have one marg, baby, Meg said, sounding the tiniest bit tipsy. She linked her arm with her husband’s. Probably to steady herself as much as to flirt. But I’m making up for lost time after carrying your daughter for nine months and then breastfeeding. I deserve a designated driver this evening.

As soon as you’ve got the party bug out of your system, I want a son to go along with that beautiful little girl you gave me.

Ah, you say the sweetest things. Meg beamed up at him.

I resisted the urge to heave.

They were so in love. Like, stars-in-the-eyes, over-the-moon in love.

I shared a smirk with Grace as we all left the restaurant and traveled the walkway comprising the side entrance of the village.

Sean pulled up short just before we all spilled into the narrow alley leading to the parking lot.

The four of us stared at the ostentatious, butter-colored Bentley blocking the right-side lane.

Who’s the douche? Sean uncouthly blurted. Like, can’t find a spot close enough for your privileged ass? Can’t walk the twenty feet from the actual parking lot?

Grace and I laughed.

Meg snuggled closer to Sean. "Honey, there’s no valet here. Some people find that offensive."

Your dad’s worth billions, he countered. I didn’t hear you telling me to drop you at the door so that you didn’t have to put any effort into getting to those margaritas.

That’s because I’m not a douche. She giggled at her little joke. You will, however, get an earful if we’re still standing here when the rain starts.

It was August—late monsoon season in Arizona. The dark clouds had rolled in while we were all at happy hour. Dry lightning crackled overhead, and flashes of purple and gold rippled across the night sky.

Think that tank I drive will fit through this alley with the Bentley? Sean asked me.

I gauged the space as we walked toward the back lot. Just barely. Take it slow.

He snorted. Not much choice there. It’s an Excursion, not my ’Stang.

Sean had achieved the ultimate in family planning, I’d decided, when he’d traded in his classic, restored ’64½ Mustang for the mammoth SUV. He and Meg were all prepared for at least three more kids to go with the first one. Soccer-tot parents to the extreme.

While they were perfectly suited for the Brady Bunch lifestyle, it pretty much blew my mind. I was nowhere near the point of considering a wife and children. Hell, I had enough trouble committing to asking Grace on a real date.

It had nothing to do with Ari. Although I still adored her to pieces, that infatuation was, indeed, long over.

And damn, Grace Hart really was a pretty woman. My age, twenty-four. She’d been born and raised in Sedona and wasn’t interested in living anywhere else. We were on the same page with that. It was a small, intimate community with spectacular views around every corner.

We had plenty of other things in common. Yet there was a peculiar itch at the back of my brain that caused me to hesitate every time I considered making our occasional outings more official—along the lines of picking her up at her place and kissing her senseless at the end of the evening.

The truth was, I was waiting for something elusive. For my own lightning to strike.

Until it did, I played it cool. Walked Grace to her car, where we parted ways with our friends. Meg gave me a hug and I did the manly handshake thing with Sean before they continued on toward the tank.

Grace unlocked her Prius with the fob and I opened the door for her.

I had fun, she told me.

Your bar stories always have us on the floor. Seriously, some of the shit you deal with is a riot.

Keeps me amused while I’m on the clock. Gazing up at me with noticeable admiration, she said, After all you’ve been through, I’m glad I can make you laugh.

Grace and the Aldridges were among just a handful of people who knew the full extent of Dane and Ari having been targeted by some assholes who’d wanted a slice of the Lux pie—and had been more than willing to blow a hole in the hotel to prove their point. At Dane’s insistence, Ari had a bodyguard, Amano. But I’d also stepped in when needed to help keep her safe. I’d incurred some battle scars from that perilous stint that weren’t just physical, but at least we’d all survived.

Now, as a full-fledged bodyguard, my job was to protect her son, Amsel, and manage security at the Lux with Amano.

I told Grace, It’s much-smoother sailing of late.

I’m so happy to hear that. She stretched on tiptoe and gave me a peck on the cheek. Smiled sweetly. I like hanging with you, Meg, and Sean. Invite me again?

With a nod, I said, Two weeks from tonight.

I’ve got the day shift on Fridays, so that’s perfect.

These get-togethers worked out well, because we all typically came from different directions—me from the Lux in this particular case, since Amano was looking after Amsel while Ari marathon-shopped on the Internet for the kid’s first birthday party a week from now.

I wasn’t sure if she’d invited Grace to the upcoming festivities, so I didn’t mention the reason for pushing out the next group happy hour.

Grace peered at me from under her lashes and added, You can always stop into the resort, you know. I make a mean martini.

I bet you do, I said with a low laugh. I’ll see what I can do with my schedule.

Lots to juggle. I understand. She slipped into the driver’s seat. Gave me one last hopeful look that sort of gutted me because she was clearly interested in more than I was capable of giving at the moment. She told me, You’re really an incredible person, Kyle. Dane and Ari are lucky to have you in their lives and on their side.

I’m damn lucky, too. Now … be safe.

She cocked her head. Forever the bodyguard. Grace was neither a danger magnet nor a thrill-seeker. Perhaps that was also what gave me pause when it came to pursuing anything serious with her. I thrived on adrenaline rushes.

Okay, I ventured. Drive carefully. How’s that?

Better. That’s what normal people say.

Since hooking up with the Bax crew two years ago, I now knew very little about being normal. I was used to thinking on my feet, watching every shadow, looking over my shoulder—and the shoulders of those I protected.

I closed Grace’s door and she started the car. I backtracked to my Rubicon while she maneuvered down the partially blocked alley. Fat drops splashed on my windshield as I cranked the key in the ignition of the Jeep. It was a bit older, dark blue, a few scratches and dings. I certainly could afford to buy something swankier, something brand new, what with Dane and Ari surprising me by giving me stock in the multibillion-dollar Lux for my dedication to their cause. But the rugged vehicle suited me, and it was tried and true. Trusted. All traits I valued in people as much as in my ride.

My friends were long gone as I navigated the narrow passage, shooting a glare at the Bentley. Just as I returned my attention to the road ahead of me, I caught a flash of mile-long legs and silky blond hair. She was looking the other way, since that was the direction from which she’d astutely anticipated oncoming traffic. Didn’t see me at all as she stepped out of the side entryway—right into my path.

Shit! I hit the horn. Slammed on the brakes.

My pulse spiked.

I heard her scream and her small handbag went flying into the air. She careened backward, stumbling on her high heels. She likely landed on her butt just inside the semi-enclosed walkway.

I shoved the gearshift into Park. Flung the door open and raced toward the woman, who was now on her hands and knees, trying to collect the contents of her purse, most of which had spilled out and scattered when it’d bounced off the hood of my Jeep.

I snatched the bag and said, I have your purse. Cell phone intact. Damn it, I’m so sor—

I turned back to her just as she was crawling away, toward another item. My gaze locked on her ass, encased in a tight, black skirt. The hem was so short, the material ended just below her cheeks while she was bent over.

And holy hell, what an ass it was. Small, tight, tempting.

Jesus.

My brain actually stalled out at the sight.

She ticked off her belongings as she reached for them. Credit card. Driver’s license. Compact. Bloody hell … where’s my lipstick? It’s twenty-five dollars a tube, for fuck’s sake.

I knew that sultry voice all too well.

Tamera?

Her head whipped around. Long, sleek blond strands slashed across her face, a few wayward ones sticking to her crimson lips. Her gaze met mine. Her tawny, mostly golden eyes were wide. Excitement—hot and bright—flared in them.

That was when it happened.

Lightning struck.

A jolt deep in my gut. Like a physical blow to my midsection.

Nearly doubling me over.

Rendering me speechless.

Something that never happened.

Kyle! Good Lord, she said in her sexy British accent. Here to save the day yet again, are you?

One corner of my mouth lifted. Of its own accord, my gaze slid to her ass once more. I