HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS
by
Amelia James
Copyright
www.EvolvedPub.com
HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS
Copyright © 2014 Amelia James
Cover Art Copyright © 2014 Mallory Rock
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ISBN (EPUB Version): 1622537963
ISBN-13 (EPUB Version): 978-1-62253-796-9
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Edited by Stevie Mikayne
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eBook License Notes:
You may not use, reproduce or transmit in any manner, any part of this book without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations used in critical articles and reviews, or in accordance with federal Fair Use laws. All rights are reserved.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only; it may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to your eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or the author has used them fictitiously.
Warning:
Explicit language. I write fiction, and give my readers the benefit of the doubt, assuming they know romance fiction sex is fantasy sex, and in fantasies, we’re allowed to break the rules. I believe in practicing safe sex, but my characters do not use condoms because this is a fantasy, an escape from the harsh realities of everyday life. My readers are smart enough to know the difference. ~ Amelia James
Other Books by Amelia James
Contemporary Romance:
Tell Me You Want Me
Secret Storm
Erotica:
Her Twisted Pleasures – The Twisted Mosaic, Book 1
Their Twisted Love – The Twisted Mosaic, Book 2
His Twisted Choice – The Twisted Mosaic, Book 3
The Twisted Mosaic – Special Omnibus Edition
The Devil Made Me Do It
Paranormal Romance:
One Wild Night – A Short Story
www.TrashysTreasures.com
Dedication
To my husband,
for teaching me that geeks are sexy.
Table of Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
What's Next?
More from Amelia James
More from Evolved Publishing
Chapter 1
“Mornin’, Claire. I didn’t expect to see you here so early.” Alex Sheridan, lead prosecutor for the Denver County District Attorney’s office, checked his watch and dropped a file on Claire’s desk.
Claire, Alex’s paralegal, plopped into her chair and switched her computer on. The clock on her screen read 7:36 a.m. Wow. Way too early for work. But she’d gotten up before sunrise without complaining because Alex had asked for her assistance in court. First time ever. The case had already made headlines across the country: an elementary school girl had vanished on her way home from school, and her kidnapper had participated in the search in which her body was found.
Claire had cataloged evidence, studied police reports, and helped Alex prepare witness testimonies. They’d convict the monster with little effort.
Jury selection began today, but motions needed to be prepared and documents filed before the trial started. A mental To Do list had kept Claire awake half the night, and eventually she’d given up on sleep and driven to the office. She loved her job, but if she kept this up, she’d turn into a working zombie like her boss.
“Do you ever go home?” she asked him.
Alex buttoned his collar. His crisp, white shirt hadn’t yet gathered its customary wrinkles, and the pleats in his pants still looked sharp. “I used to pull all-nighters, but since Talia moved in with me I have a reason to go home.” He straightened his tie and grinned, his blue eyes dancing with unrepentant mischief. “And now that Will lives with us—”
“Stop right there.” Claire held up her hand. “I know too much already.” Will. She should’ve slept with him when she had the chance—but he’d never truly been hers to begin with. Still, how had Talia managed to land two guys when Claire hadn’t caught the attention of one since she’d dumped Michael last spring? Oh lord, has it been that long?
Alex laughed as he searched his pocket for his ringing cell phone. “Hey Will. I made a reservation at the MGM Grand for the three of us. The DA’s office always books rooms at Caesar’s for conventions and stuff, but MGM is at the south end of the strip, so we shouldn’t run into anyone. We’re sharing a suite with one king-sized bed. None of this ‘sneaking into each other’s rooms’ bullshit.” He clutched his phone to his ear and glanced at his assistant. “Yeah, I know she thinks it’s hot, but I want easy access all weekend so we can fuck that little—”
Claire coughed and clacked her fingernails on the keyboard. Her boss winked and flashed the infamous evil grin that melted the panties of women all over Denver—not to mention Charleston, Chicago, and dozens in Texas. She squirmed in her seat, pressing her thighs together as she opened another email.
Alex’s laugh floated across the room. “We’ll spoil Talia rotten. She’ll love it.”
Claire rolled her eyes. A weekend of debauchery in Vegas with two of the hottest guys on the planet. Lucky bitch. Her abs fluttered as a mental picture of Alex and Will naked and eager to please her formed in her randy brain. Wow, really? I know I need to get some when I’m lusting after my boss and my ex.
But she needed more than a sweaty, short-lived romp, no matter how many guys were doing the romping. She’d dumped her last boyfriend when she realized her craving for attention would never be satisfied by a man too wrapped up in his own needs to understand hers.
Will had called her an exhibitionist, someone who lived for recognition and praise. She’d denied it at the time, but she couldn’t ignore his spot-on assessment when Michael repeatedly neglected her. Now she owned it, wearing bold colors and eye-catching jewelry to the office, pushing the firm’s dress code. She even slept naked—every night—whether she had a companion or not.
Fire-engine red fingernails tapped the mouse button, and a sparkling bracelet clunked on her desk as she scrolled across the screen. But the pointer didn’t follow. She shook the mouse. Nothing. Tapped the spacebar. No response. Smashed the enter key. The screen went blank.
“Uh-oh.” Claire recoiled.
Her boss stuck his phone in his pocket. “What?”
“My computer.” She gingerly tapped random keys. “I think it died.”
He leaned down on the desk and slapped the dark mo
nitor. “Did you print all the documents we need for trial?”
“Everything except the motion.”
“Shit! I need that.”
“I know. It was right there on my screen when an email came in. I opened that first and saved the attached file.”
Alex groaned and slapped his forehead. “What have I told you about opening attachments from people you don’t know?”
“It was from accounting! I emailed them your expense report yesterday. I thought they sent it back.”
“Damn it! Call the helpdesk. I need that motion printed now. We’re due in court at nine.” He stomped into his office and slammed the door.
Claire snatched her phone so fast it slipped from her hand and hit the floor. She grabbed the cord and yanked the receiver to her ear, dialing the helpdesk extension with trembling fingers. “This is Claire O’Connor in Alex Sheridan’s office. I need someone up here now.” She chewed her lip and rattled the helpless mouse. “Thank you.”
Coffee. Must have coffee. The pot Alex had made was still warm on the burner. She poured a cup and took it back to her desk, debating whether or not she should attempt to resurrect her computer.
A timid knock barely penetrated her thoughts. Claire opened the door and let in the hottie from IT. “So glad you’re here, Kurt. I need you.”
His bright green eyes grew wide behind his glasses, and his jaw fell slack. “You need…?” His gaze drifted down her body and a red blush swept across his face.
In her four-inch heels, Claire could look him right in the eye, so she stepped close and commanded his full attention with a sharp ‘ahem.’ Her bracelet jingled as she jammed her hand on her hip. “My computer?”
“Oh, right.” His gaze dropped to her feet, and he scurried to her desk. “What happened?”
Yummy IT guy: owned. She followed him. “The screen froze, and then it did this.” She stared at the black monitor and bit her lip.
He bent over and pressed the power button, holding it until the lights went off. “What were you doing at the time?”
“Reading my email.” She took a step back and admired his firm butt. Her employer had strict rules against socializing with clients, but the policy got a little foggier with regard to co-workers. Checking out Kurt now? You need to get it bad. The little tingle between her thighs agreed.
He straightened up and turned to look at her. “Just reading it?” Those penetrating eyes twinkled a knowing smile.
She hid behind her coffee cup. “Uh-huh.”
Kurt settled into her chair and grabbed the mouse. “The IT department’s been chasing this virus since it showed up in the law library yesterday. Didn’t you see our warning not to open attachments from unknown senders?”
“But it came from accounting!” She groaned and dug the heels of her palms into her eyes.
Warmth radiated from his eyes as an understanding smile touched his lips. “Okay. Calm down. It’s not your fault.”
“Just find that motion. Alex needs to give it to the judge this morning.”
His glasses slipped down his nose, and he peered over the wire rims. “Did you back it up?”
“Umm….” Her bracelet jingled as she wrung her hands.
“Always back up your files, Claire.”
She bit back a smartass retort. “I know! I’ll do it every day from now on, I promise, just find it and print it. Please?”
He nodded and turned toward the computer as the screen came back to life.
***
“Com’ere you little fucker. You can’t hide from me.” Kurt gritted his teeth. He probably shouldn’t have used the F-word in front of Claire, but girls liked it when he showed the computer who was boss. He’d never heard her swear, not even when he’d accidentally slammed her delicate fingers in the copy machine. She’d just blinked shiny eyes and smiled as he fumbled an apology. He couldn’t imagine dirty words coming from her sweet lips. But he could—and had—imagined doing dirty things with her—just once or twice. A day.
She had no idea, of course. Since he’d become a supervisor in the IT department, he’d assigned himself to her tasks whenever she called the helpdesk. Chasing down this latest virus had brought him into work early this morning, otherwise some other lucky guy would’ve been here listening to her sweet voice beg for help. If he ever found the person responsible for creating it, he’d email the villain a nice bouquet of virtual flowers… with a nasty worm buried inside.
But first, he had to play the hero.
They’d met on the day Mr. Sheridan had interviewed her. She stepped on the elevator and smiled in his direction before turning to push the button for the lobby. He’d already pressed it, so the moment her fingerprint blended with his, they’d bonded forever.
If only….
He sighed and grabbed the mouse with a sweaty, shaking hand.
“What’s wrong?” Claire paced behind him, a whiff of apples and vanilla floated in her wake, creating a soft haze that buzzed his brain.
“Huh?” He looked up at the pure panic in her beautiful eyes and swore to come to her rescue. A click of the mouse revealed the document she needed. “Is this your motion?”
“Yes!” She clapped her hands on his shoulders and leaned forward as she stared at the screen. Her breasts rested snug and warm against his back, and her breath rasped in his ear. “Can you print it?”
“As you wish.” A silly response that carried a meaning known only to him… and anyone else who’d seen The Princess Bride. But judging from Claire’s confused look, they didn’t share the same taste in movies.
The printer hummed, and she scurried across the room to grab the paper it spat out. She gave it a quick scan, said “Thank you!” and ran back to throw her arms around his neck, knocking his glasses askew as she pressed her soft lips on his cheek. “You’re amazing!”
And the crowd goes wild! Kurt adjusted his glasses and, as soon as she disappeared into Mr. Sheridan’s office, his pants. Lewd thoughts invaded his brain as the same fabric seat that had caressed her bottom touched his—soft and warm, just like he imagined her skin would feel.
The prosecutor burst through the door and shook Kurt’s hand. “Thanks, man. I owe you.”
Claire scrambled behind Alex, gathering documents as she slung her briefcase over her shoulder. “You’re my hero.” She gave Kurt another kiss as her boss rushed out the door.
“No problem.” He made a mental note to email her a special virus, one that would keep him chained to her desk for the rest of their epic lives. She’d be his Princess Leia, and he’d be her Han Solo, fighting to protect her from the Galactic District Attorney’s office that kept them prisoner.
Get back to work, Dork. He ran a quick virus scan as standard procedure but found nothing. Then he inserted a flash drive with a search-and-destroy file he’d written to locate the specific virus. The program conducted a thorough probe, taking its time detecting hostile files, and leaving him with nothing to do but obsess.
He laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back, kicking his feet up on her desk and knocking over an open bag of M&Ms. The pink and red candies lay scattered among several other packages of leftover Christmas treats, all untouched except for the nearly empty bag of dark chocolate Kisses. He grabbed the bag of M&Ms and read the label: dark chocolate with raspberry. Ah… she craves dark chocolate. Kurt filed that detail with the other bits of information he’d collected about Claire.
She owned a 2003 Honda Civic with a cracked windshield, but instead of fighting downtown traffic every day, she took the Light Rail to work. He wasn’t exactly sure where she lived, but at an office party, he’d heard her tell another paralegal she rented a house, not an apartment. She’d graduated from a high school he couldn’t remember the name of in a small town in northeastern Colorado, either Sterling or Sedgwick. He’d found that out when he came across her resume while repairing corrupted files for Human Resources.
Knowing all this stuff about her could qualify him as a stalker, but he’d never follo
wed her home, never waited at the train station—he’d just hoped and dreamed that someday she might want to know where he grew up, that he loved black licorice, or how he’d waited alone in the ER while the doctors tried to save his dad. Could he tell anyone about that?
His cell phone rang and diverted him off that lonely trail. “Langston.” Answering with his last name made him feel professional.
The IT manager’s voice blasted in his ear. “Where are you?”
Kurt turned the volume down. “In Sheridan’s office purging the virus from Claire’s computer.” His boss probably had no idea who Claire was, but Kurt just wanted to say her name out loud.
“It’s in HR now, so get over there as soon as you can.”
“Got it.” He hung up and checked the progress on Claire’s monitor. Another ten minutes until the scan finished. He collected the spilled candy and popped one in his mouth, cringing as the bittersweet chocolate melted on his tongue. “She loves this crap?”
Another obstacle to overcome. Another fact he’d do nothing with. But if he hacked the Secret Santa drawing this year, he might get to stuff her stocking. The list is in HR. How convenient.
Chapter 2
Jury duty. Well, fuck me with the scales of justice. JT Luck took a seat in the jury box and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to appear as unappealing as possible. The judge instructed the thirty or so citizens to answer all questions directed at the panel, or at them individually, with complete honesty. As if he’d lie in court. The last time he’d done that his life had changed forever.
He leaned back and kicked his feet up on the wood paneling that framed the jury box. The entire courtroom glared at him. The hot little assistant in the red blouse sitting with the prosecutor leaned an elbow on the back of her chair, pulling that flaming silk tight across her ample breasts. Maybe his civic duty wouldn’t be so bad if he got to stare at her all day.
JT grinned at her and slid his feet to the floor. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head, tapping cherry-red fingernails on the table. Her slim black skirt hugged her thighs as she crossed her legs at the knee. Polished black heels added a hint of sex appeal to her otherwise conservative dress. She doesn’t look like a lawyer. She looks like a… rebel.
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