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  Conquering Kam

  Copyright 2018 Monica Clayton

  Published by M.E. Clayton at Smashwords

  All Rights Reserved

  Smashwords Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold 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 enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The entire content is a product of the author’s imagination and all names, places, businesses and incidences are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), places or occurrences, is entirely coincidental

  Formatting: Smashwords

  Cover: Adobe Stock

  Warning: This book contains sexual situations and other adult themes. Recommended for 18 years of age and over.

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  Authors_Note

  Prologue

  Chapter_1

  Chapter_2

  Chapter_3

  Chapter_4

  Chapter_5

  Chapter_6

  Chapter_7

  Chapter_8

  Epilogue

  About_the_Author

  Other_Books

  Contact_Me

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost I have to thank my family for their support! Nothing I accomplish is a success without their love.

  Secondly, I have to thank Kamala for not laughing at me when I told her I wanted to write a book. Also for being my guinea pig and for loving the kooky group of characters that took residence in my head as much as I do! Chasing Quinn, Claiming Isabella, Conquering Kam and Capturing Happiness would never have happened if not for her encouragement and enthusiasm!

  And seeing as this is my first attempt at writing (and writing a series), I want to thank everyone who took a chance on me when they bought this book! Please note that this is a completely independent project and any typos, errors or silliness falls solely on my shoulders.

  Dedication

  For Kamala-

  I don’t think I would have ever been brave enough to follow this crazy path without your encouragement and support.

  You are strong! You are smart! You are beautiful!

  HAHAHAHA! Love you friend!

  Author’s Note

  Conquering Kam can be read as a standalone and is a short spin off of the Seven Deadly Sins Series. But I invite you to read Catching Avery, Chasing Quinn and Claiming Isabella for the laughs, the tears and the extra amount of crazy. No one wants to miss out on why Kane can always call his brother for advice on kidnapping!

  Happy Reading Folks!

  Prologue

  The Seven Deadlies.

  There's Sloth, Gluttony, Envy, Lust, Greed, Wrath and Pride.

  So which is the worst?

  First, there's Sloth. Being lazy and unproductive can be just as addicting as drugs or gambling. Your mind and body get used to doing nothing, to being nothing. Sloth can make you neglect responsibilities and make you lose value in yourself and others. Laziness can keep you poor, unfit and a burden on society.

  Second, there's Gluttony. Over indulgence. There's a guilty feeling that comes with gluttony. We feel it when we overeat, when we over spend, etc. I think it's safe to say, we've all experienced gluttony at least once in our lives. Gluttony likes to sneak up on you. There's nothing wrong with having just one more slice of pizza...until you find yourself fifty pounds overweight one day, of course. What's the harm in having ten different purses, when you can only carry one at a time? Gluttony will have you overweight and in debt before you even know what’s hit you. The sneaky little bastard!

  Then, there's Envy. Envy can keep you from making any real personal connections in life. I mean, how can you really call yourself a friend if you secretly hate whenever one of your friends find good fortune? Envy can make you detest everything you own and have worked hard for. Your car, your house, your clothes are all perfectly fine...until your neighbor gets a fancier car, bigger house and designer clothes. Envy can eat you up alive. Envy can turn your soul dark. That's no bueno...no bueno at all.

  Now, let's talk about Lust.

  Lust.

  Lust is a motherfucker of a sin. Nations topple because of lust. Families are destroyed because of lust. People become diseased because of lust. Lust clouds the best of judgments. But to be fair, can you name one thing...just one thing...that feels better than sex? The feel of a man's hands on your body, the goose bumps you get when his lips touch your skin, the heat you feel when you know he's turned on by you, the power you feel because you know there is nothing he won't do to satisfy you, that first thrust inside you and let's not leave out the aria of the entire sexual opera...when he makes you cum. What feels better than that?

  Next, there's Greed. Greed can make you shady and underhanded. It can make you so hungry for more, that you go into debt because your neighbors just bought a Lexus, but you're driving a Toyota. Greed tricks you into believing your life is always missing something. It makes you become an episode on Investigation Discovery because you poisoned your husband for his life insurance. Greed has you always feeling empty, and for some, there's almost nothing you won't do to fill that void. When you're greedy, contentment is a false achievement. You will never be satisfied. Never.

  Onto Wrath. Wrath is the equivalent to temporary insanity. You can literally lose your mind when you are in a state of wrath. Wrath will have you destroying property and it can make you verbally and physically abusive. Wrath will have you looking at a life prison sentence because you've gone and murdered someone in the heat of the moment. Wrath will make you unreasonable. Wrath can make you feared by those you love and who love you. Wrath can consume your soul. It's mind numbing to all things good and peaceful. Wrath is a true monster with no rationale. Wrath can destroy everything good in your life.

  Finally, we have Pride. Pride, pride, pride, pride, pride....it sure is a nasty little guy. Pride can cause an insurmountable amount of pain. It keeps you from saying sorry, when you really should. It is the largest killer of relationships around. It makes life harder because you refuse to ask for help and it kills love because you cannot bring yourself to forgive. A lot of people can forgive mistakes, but when all you can think about is how that mistake made you look stupid? Lying, infidelity, neglect, all that can be worked through...humiliation, not so much. Pride can make you walk away from the best thing that ever happened to you. It can also make you lonelier than you have ever been.

  So, let me introduce myself...

  My name is Kamala Denise Edwards and this is a little story about how, all I was trying to do was find a job, but then these seven bastards bulldozed their way into my life.

  Chapter 1

  Sloth: Because no one can work three jobs and not sleep through the alarm at least once.

  Kamala~

  I woke up with a jolt.

  What the hell?

  I reached over towards the nightstand and the illumination on my phone showed me the time of 5:20 am, but what I actually saw was ‘you are fucked, girl’.

  Shit! I slept through my alarm! I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Luckily, I showered last night, so I just had to wash my face and brush my teeth. I twisted my brown hair up in a clip, rushed to get dressed and applied what minimal make-up I could in the three minutes I had left to spare.

  I made it to the coffee shop that was four blocks away from my down town San Jose apartment with five minutes left on the clock. I worked three jobs, but I was hoping that would all come to an end soon. I had requested a long lunch today for an interview I had with K. A. Financial. It was a decent size financial consulting firm with a good reputation. There was an opening for a receptionist and while it may not have seemed like an ambitious position, the pay was more than enough to be able to quit all three of my current jobs.

  The morning crowd was nothing unusual. Zoey’s Zingers always had a steady stream of coffee drinkers throughout the day. We were like any other coffee shop that served coffee, light sandwich lunches and pastries. However, Zoey’s had a signature pastry call The Zinger and it tasted like heaven took up vacation on your taste buds. It was that good.

  The morning past with a buzz of activity and it wasn’t long before lunch time rolled around. I was due to leave for my interview in fifteen minutes and I was excited. Arlene, the owner of Zoeys’-Zoey being her only granddaughter-didn’t mind her people looking for work elsewhere. She was always encouraging her employees to dream big and not fear the outside world. She was a fan of meeting new people every day, so every employee that moved onto something else was another chance to meet someone new who would take their place.

  She was awesome.

  I was maneuvering my way between tables to deliver an early lunch for a couple, when the unthinkable happened.

  A tall, solid bull slammed right into my china.

  In this day and age, with everyone looking down at their phones instead of watching where they were going or taking notice of their surroundings, I was usually pretty good at paying enough attention for everyone, but waking up late had me off my game. This wasn’t the first time I’ve had coffee spilt on me, but it was the first time it’s happened when I had an
interview in fifteen minutes.

  I looked up-there was a lot of head tilting to accomplish this-to apologize, when I was met with a pair of stormy blue eyes. For a split second, I wondered if he wore contacts because they were a blue that didn’t exist in the Crayola crayon box.

  I was about to put on my patient employee façade when Blue Eyes lost all sense of civility. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” he barked at me.

  I stepped back and took a quick inventory of the mess and it seemed like his tie was the only thing that suffered in the collision, while the entire front of my blouse was soaked and stained. Months of working here had me automatically apologizing. “I...I’m so...sorry, sir. I…”

  “You should be sorry. I mean, how hard is it to watch where you’re going,” he continued to bark. He looked down at his, now, empty cup rocking back and forth on the floor. “Fuck, and now I need to buy another cup of coffee.”

  “No, sir, we can replace it…”

  “Are you going to replace my tie, as well?”

  I felt disappointment settle in my shoulders. There was no way I could afford to replace his tie. Blue Eyes had money. It was apparent in the way he carrying himself, in his arrogant attitude and in the suit that draped his body.

  And what a fucking body it was.

  He had to be at least six foot tall. He had thick, dark brown hair that was long enough to be casual, but short enough to still be considered professional. His brilliant-though, at this moment, pissed off-eyes were set underneath dark brown brows. He had a Romanesque nose running perfectly down the center of his face and lips that looked like they knew wicked secrets. His face was made up of strong cheekbones and a solid jaw line.

  He had broad shoulders, but that was as far as I got. I was not going to get caught checking out this asshole any more than I already was.

  I Was. Not.

  Besides, his deep, rumbling voice was doing strange things to my lady bits, even if he was coming off like a grade A asshole.

  “Sir…” I was interrupted by Arlene rushing in between us. “Kam, I’ve got this. You need to get going.”

  I glanced at the watch that adorned my left wrist. I had twelve minutes to get to my interview. I wasn’t going to be able to find a new shirt or clean myself up. Shit!

  I gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you, Arlene.” And because I was still a professional no matter my job, I gave Blue Eyes one last look. “Again, sir, I’m very sorry.”

  I didn’t wait for him to acknowledge my apology or tell me to go to hell. I raced to the back of the café, grabbed my bag and fled out the back door.

  I power walked the hell out of the five blocks that separated Zoey’s and K. A. Financial. My only saving grace was that even though it was still a little warm in October, there was no heat beating down on San Jose this morning. The weather was cool enough that I wasn’t going to show up to my interview a sweaty mess on top of a stained blouse.

  I made it into the lobby’s front door with three minutes to spare. I approached the security guard booth and he directed me to second floor where the interviews were being conducted. I rushed my way through the lobby and rode the elevator up one floor.

  When the ride came to an end and I stepped out, I immediately felt defeated. The sitting area was occupied by six other applicants and they didn’t have a large coffee stain splatter all over the front of their smart, dressy outfits. The good news was since there were six applicants in line before me I had time to run to the restroom and try to clean up my blouse a bit.

  I approached the receptionist. Her name plate read Stacy. “Hello, Stacy. My name is Kamala Edwards. I’m here to interview for the receptionist position.”

  She rewarded me with an absolutely beautiful smile. “Hello, Kamala.” She scanned her clipboard. “Yes, I see you’re on the list.” She ran a highlighter across my name. “Please have a seat and you will be called as soon as they are ready for you.”

  I hesitated because I didn’t want to appear flighty, but I really didn’t have a choice. “Excuse me, Stacy. Can you direct me to where the restrooms are?”

  “Just go down the hall and you will find them to your right.”

  I had been holding my bag in front of my chest this whole time trying to disguise the mess, but when I reached the restrooms to assess the damage, I almost gave up and walked out. My blouse was a summer peach color, so there was no camouflaging the stain. I still did my best to clean it up as much as possible, though.

  Once I was finished, I returned to the sitting area and sat next to a very professional looking hipster. His hair, his beard, even the way he sat hinted to it. “Hello. I’m Kamala.”

  “Hi, Kamala, I’m Gregory. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.

  I took it and gave him my most firm hand shake. I wanted to appear friendly, but confident. “Have they begun interviewing yet?”

  “Not yet. They’re probably going to make us sweat it out until they call the first name.”

  My heart sank. It was so hard to remain optimistic. Landing this job would be the answers to the same prayers I recycled every night. As dejected as I felt, though, I was still going to give it my all.

  I texted Arlene, informing her that my interview was going to run longer than I had originally thought it was going to. I explained how there were six applicants in line ahead of me. She texted me back that I could have all the time I needed. I suspected it had to do with her knowing my situation at home and I appreciated it more than she could ever understand.

  I watched the clock tick down as each person was called into the interview room. The reception area was quiet, except for Stacy’s telephone use. None of the applicants made small talk, but I supposed no one wanted to make friends with the competition. I had to admit I was extremely grateful when I had returned from the restroom to find a woman had arrived a minute or so after I did. I knew it wouldn’t make a difference, but I was happy to not be the last to arrive.

  I watched the hipster being escorted out of the office like all the applicants before him. He shook hands with a very well put together blonde. She was tall, slim and looked every bit the modern day professional woman, and standing next to her, I was going to look every bit the short, dirty ruffian that I felt.

  Ugh!

  After sending Hipster Gregory on his way, she turned and click-clacked her heels in the direction of me and the other remaining applicant. She swiveled her head between the both of us. “Ms. Edwards?”

  I stood up and holding my bag up against my chest with my left hand, I stuck my right hand out to offer a handshake. “Good Morning, I’m Kamala Edwards.”

  She took my hand in hers. “Good Morning, Ms. Edwards. I’m Elise Proctor, please follow me.”

  I followed Ms. Proctor into a very sleek, modern conference room. It was decorated in dark hues with an enormous conference table in the center. This is a room where millions and millions of dollars exchanged hands, I was sure of it.

  Ms. Proctor brought me out of my stupor. “Please have a seat, Ms. Edwards.” Her stretched out arm indicated which seat I should take. The conference table was rectangular and she directed me to the corner chair.

  She sat down directly across from me and rested her arms on the table, clasping her hands. If I didn’t know better, I would think she was nervous. “I would, first off, like to apologize…”

  Apologize?

  Shit! Was she was going to tell me that the job was already taken or that it was a false job placement advertisement? I could feel the anxiety that threatened to render me immobile. I knew the odds of getting this job were slim, especially taking in my dapper appearance this morning, but I still had hope of at least having a shot at this job.

  I needed this opportunity damn it.

  She continued on as if I wasn’t falling apart right in front of her. “The resumes were vetted by our human resources manager, Wanda Manjorie, and it was she who was supposed to conduct these interviews.”