I'll Be Hot for Christmas Read online

  I’LL BE HOT FOR CHRISTMAS

  An erotic interlude with the characters of

  THE ASSIGNMENT

  Evangeline Anderson

  ®

  www.loose-id.com

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  * * * * *

  This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable (homoerotic sex).

  I’ll Be Hot for Christmas

  Evangeline Anderson

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924

  Carson City NV 89701-1215

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © December 2006 by Evangeline Anderson

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 978-1-59632-398-8

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Karen W. Williams

  Cover Artist: April Martinez

  Chapter One

  Detective Sean O’Brian had finally had enough. It had been a solid month since he and Valenti had gotten any kind of action and he was sick of it. As he pulled his sleek ’82 Chrysler Cordoba into a spot at the Spalding Convention Center downtown, O’Brian reflected that no, it had been longer than a month. Because the last time he could remember getting so much as a kind word, let alone anything else from Valenti was the night before the shooting incident.

  He sighed and ran a hand through his thick, reddish blond hair as he got out of the car. “Damn shame, babe,” he muttered, picturing Valenti’s wounded brown eyes when Captain Harris had assigned him to “administrative leave” until the incident could be cleared through Internal Affairs. It was only supposed to take a week ‑‑ two weeks tops. But those IA bastards were taking their time and O’Brian knew that Valenti had been called in and grilled on at least three separate occasions. Even though several eye witnesses had testified that the junkie Valenti took down had been threatening him and O’Brian with a gun of his own, they still couldn’t let it drop. And until they did, Valenti was a desk jockey and O’Brian was stuck with a new partner ‑‑ a rookie so wet behind the ears O’Brian had the urge to turn him around and look for the apron strings that were surely still attached.

  Valenti had become irritable and depressed. He had also become hyper aware of the dangerous secret he and O’Brian shared ‑‑ the fact that ever since coming back from an undercover assignment at The RamJack, a notorious gay club in San Francisco, their partnership had grown to a whole new level. That they were lovers as well as partners ‑‑ or had been, anyway, before this whole miserable thing began.

  It had been almost a year since they had admitted their feeling for each other and started an exclusive relationship ‑‑ one that was based on mutual respect as much as it was on the white-hot passion that flared between them. It had come as a complete surprise because neither partner had ever been attracted to another man before. But just because he’d never desired another man before Valenti didn’t mean O’Brian found the sight of his tall, dark partner down on his knees taking O’Brian’s thick cock down his throat any less exciting. God, just thinking about it was enough to give him an almost painful hard-on. Now if only he could get his stubborn partner to do something about it, they might be back in business, he reflected as he left the parking area and headed for the convention center.

  Even before they had taken their partnership and friendship to the next level, O’Brian and Valenti had been all over each other ‑‑ always hugging and touching and generally just invading the hell out of each other’s space. It was part of their partnership, part of what they were known for, and it was their easy way around each other that had landed them the RamJack assignment in the first place. But since the shooting incident and the IA investigation that had followed, Valenti flinched if O’Brian so much as touched him in public. In fact, just that afternoon O’Brian had come up behind his partner, who was sitting at his desk doing paperwork and looking tense, and tried to give him a neck rub. Valenti had flinched and pushed his hands away.

  “Get off me, O’Brian,” he muttered, his brown eyes scanning the crowded bullpen to see if any of the other officers had noticed the public display of affection. “We’re in public here.”

  “Yeah, so?” O’Brian plopped himself down onto his partner’s desk, sitting on the paperwork Valenti was working on and frowned.

  “So? So we need to be a little more careful.” Valenti’s voice was low and worried. “A little more discreet. Could you get off my paperwork, please?”

  “No. Look, Valenti,” O’Brian said in what he thought was a reasonably low tone of voice. “We been nothin’ but discreet for the past month. In fact, if we get any more discreet I’m gonna die of blue balls. Cut me a break here, huh?’

  “Keep it down!” Valenti hissed, frowning at him fiercely. “You don’t know who’s listening.”

  “I know I don’t give a damn.” O’Brian began to get angry at that point. For the past month or longer he had been putting up with his partner’s stand-offish attitude and sudden paranoia, but it was getting pretty old, in his opinion.

  “Well I do give a damn whether we flush our careers down the toilet,” Valenti answered.

  “Flush our careers down the ... what the hell are you talkin’ about, Valenti?” O’Brian demanded. “Ya know, up until about a month ago, you and me always used to be all over each other. People talked, sure, but we didn’t care. I mean, even after we came back from the RamJack and people talked even more, we still didn’t care. But now …” He shook his head. “I don’t know ‑‑ it’s like you changed all of a sudden. And I don’t think it’s just the whole shooting thing and the IA givin’ you hell, either. There’s somethin’ else goin’ on in that thick skull of yours. So what gives?”

  “I haven’t changed. And all that ... the way we acted, I mean ... that was before.” Valenti muttered, looking away and refusing to meet O’Brian’s concerned green eyes.

  “Before what?” O’Brian demanded. “Before this shooting thing? Or before whatever it is you’re not tellin’ me?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Valenti made an effort to get back to his paperwork but O’Brian had his round, firm ass planted squarely on top of it and he wasn’t budging until he’d had his say.

  “Damnit, Valenti, I know things’ve been rough the last month or so but that’s all gonna change. Things are gonna get better. And even if they don’t, I’m here for you, just like always.”

  “Yeah, yeah ...” But Valenti’s prickly exterior looked like it was melting a little. His big brown eyes looked softer and the broad shoulders beneath his crisp, white cotton shirt didn’t look quite so tense. It made O’Brian long to take him back to his apartment and give him a long, slow, sensual massage just as he had when they were u