Community Service

By Dusty Miller

Criminal Court Judge Marion Carter sentences Albert Wilson, a pretty good guy in a spot of trouble, to time served and two hundred hours of community service. It's only when Wilson shows up at her door one Saturday morning that she recalls volunteering to provide meaningful work to prisoners in the Community Work Program, run by a local charitable organization. While Albert is a perfect gentleman, he's also very fit-looking. An obsessive Marion can't resist tormenting him with skimpy outfits and intimate breaks for coffee and cake in her cozy little kitchen. An erotic romance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dusty Miller
• Release date: Feb 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781927957158

Dusty Miller

Constance ‘Dusty’ Miller has written fiction, non-fiction and worked for newspapers and magazines. She did a brief stint as sports editor of a small-town weekly. She likes to make people laugh as well as think. Her erotica has a strong sense of the dramatic. Out of work and recovering from a life-threatening illness, someone suggested writing erotica which she initially rejected for lack of confidence. But love makes the world go around, and Dusty can no longer deny its pull. Dusty squeezes a little writing time in between raising a daughter and building a home-based business.

Book preview

Community Service

Dusty Miller

This Smashwords edition copyright 2014 Dusty Miller and Long Cool One Books

Design: J. Thornton

ISBN 978-1-927957-15-8

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The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person living or deceased, or to any places or events, is purely coincidental. Names, places, settings, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. The author’s moral rights to the proceeds of this work have been asserted.

Table of Contents

Order in the Court

Piddling Along in Traffic

The Voice Beside Her Ear

About the Author

Community Service

Dusty Miller

Act One

Order in the Court

Order in the court, order in the court.

The noise fell to a dull hum.

All right. Whatcha got for me, Rick?

Richard Mathers, the court clerk, in his usual stentorian tone, read off the name, the offence, the date and the time. He read the docket number. He looked out inquiringly, searching the faces and looking over the heads of the mob.

A man was there at the back of the crowd, the cheap seats in the bleachers as she thought of them sometimes, and he approached the low, wooden gate leading to the inner sanctum. He stood at the brink, as it were. Unusually for the venue, he was wearing a suit and tie, charcoal jacket with lighter pants, and dark brown shoes. The tie was a bright sunshine yellow and there were small grey diamonds patterned on it. Kind of cute. He was just the right age for her. Her innards squirmed on the thought, just as they always did. Those thoughts were coming less frequently these days, but then she knew she was kind of burned-out lately and didn’t much care who knew it.

Yeah. That’s me.

Mister Albert Wilson?

Yup, all present and accounted-for.

She suppressed a smile.

Are you represented by an attorney today, Mister Wilson?

Judge Marion Carter examined the defendant.

"No, Your Honour.’

He seemed well-formed and not unintelligent. He was a man in his mid-forties.

There had been some doubt about his attendance to court. At his last appearance he’d been a half an hour late, as she recalled.