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Consequences	By : Sabriel0405 Category: Anita Blake > Het Views: 4737 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Anita Blake series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 3

Micah had been correct. Jean-Claude didn’t react well to my absence. “Ma petite, it has been weeks since we’ve seen each other. Surely, you can find some time to come to the Circus? Or I can come there.”

Guilt played along my shoulders and tensed them. “I’m sorry, Jean-Claude. Really, I am. But you can have my dreams,” I said. Little did I know what I was opening myself up for.
At first, the dreams were rated PG. He took me on dreams of dinner dates and cuddle sessions before roaring fires. Things we didn’t actually do in real life. I was still dressed in his leather and lace concoctions, but even those covered me up more than usual. He was enticing me and I knew it. It worked anyway.

“Those weren’t the kind of dreams I had in mind,” I told him. I couldn’t help it. I missed him and I wanted him. And it was my choice not to have him.

“No, ma petite? I’ll do something different tonight.” The promises in his voice sent satin shivers down my spine and I moaned involuntarily. “Go to sleep early,” he said. I could barely wait.

The pard had been tiptoeing around me for the last few weeks. On one hand they touched me more frequently. On the other, they didn’t talk to me. They wore clothes more often. They were careful not to give me any excuse to get upset. It was disconcerting. Micah wasn’t disapproving of me exactly. He rarely went ar aar as to actively disagree with me. Nevertheless, he thought I was being unfair. The pard would welcome the baby.

Cherry knew. She didn’t talk to me about it, but I saw how she watched me. How she made sure that I was eating. I wasn’t used to being mothered. The last time I had been eight. Though that wasn’t entirely fair to Judith. Marianne tried hard to be a surrogate parent. Sometimes I accepted it. Sometimes I even appreciated it.

I went to bed early. Not because Jean-Claude told me to. Not even because I was tired. But because I needed to get away from the scrutiny. I was on the edge of consciousness when Micah and Nathaniel slipped into bed on either side of me. It felt so right that I slipped into deep sleep within minutes.

Jean-Claude had promised different and that’s what I got. We went from PG to R. We were at Guilty Pleasures and I was watching Nathaniel on the stage, the sensuous turns of his body made my own body mimic the movements. Jean-Claude was kissing my neck; I could feel the press of fangs. I leaned into him.

“Why are we here?” I asked.

“I thought you might want to watch this evening.” His voice had a note I couldn’t quite place but it had me suspicious.

“Watch what?” I asked.

“This,” he said and motioned to the stage.

Guilty Pleasures was a preternatural strip club and the biggest attraction was the men, shifters and vampires. So I was stunned to see a woman on stage. She wasn’t someone I recognized and yet she seemed familiar.

The woman was shorter than Nathaniel, long dark hair hung in curls down her back. She wore veils everywhere but seemed unfamiliar with the dance. Nathaniel circled around her and shimmied his hips until they bumped up against the woman’s. He took a hand in each of his and began moving her to the music. It looks sensual and inviting and the veils kept floating away. She had revealed her breasts; they were lush and heavy, the nipples tight though I wasn’t sure whether it was from excitement or cold. Nathaniel was leading her on the floor, moving her body this way and that, removing his own clothes piece by piece.

I was panting and I wasn’t even sure why, though when Nathaniel put his hands on the woman’s breasts to caress them, Jean-Claude had done the same thing to mine. The lightest of touches, the barest stroke against the nipples. I was moaning in his arms. “More,” I whispered. But my eyes were glued to Nathaniel and the woman. There was something sweetly awkward about her. She didn’t want to be there, though she didn’t mind being naked. At least she didn’t seem to. The last veils were coming off. She was wearing a thong that barely covered her, but I was more interested in her face.

“Can’t you guess, ma petite?” Jean-Claude whispered in my ear.

The woman was actively caressing Nathaniel now, who was down to his own G-string. I knew he arouaroused. I had felt it often enough and he was on the edge. She was in front of him now, covering the place her hand was supposedly touching. But I saw him mouth a name as ecstasy gripped him. “Anita!” he cried out.

My eyes widened in panicked surprise. I turned to Jean-Claude. “It’s just a dream, ma petite, just a dream,” But his own hands had been busy why I watched Nathaniel and now it was my turn to cry out. I woke suddenly; groggier than when I had started.

Neither Micah nor Nathaniel had moved. It was just a dream. I’d give Jean-Claude a piece of that dream all right.

Be careful what you wish for.

When I called Jean-Claude the next night, I planned to complain about the dream but that wasn’t what came out. “Why are you doing this to me?” I was appalled at the level of need in my voice.

He chuckled but there was a warm edge of anger in it that I understood. This was supposed to be punishment. “Tell me what you want, ma petite,” he said.

I gave in. “Please, Jean-Claude, I’m sorry I can’t see you right now. But I do miss you. I do want you.” Tears clogged my throat and I fought not to release them. Even though I blamed most of my tears on hormones, it was still a weakness I resented. I hated that I was begging Jean-Claude to have mental sex with me.

Micah continued to be supportive, but I knew he thought I was crazy. I had two more weeks before I was past the first trimester. My decision not to tell Jean-Claude was having unintended physical consequences on me. The longer I went without telling him, the surer I was that he would end things between us, insofar as you can end things with your human servant. But I couldn’t face his anger. I was uptight all the time.

RPIT had called me in on a few cases. I came in, made the identification and left. Zebrowski was concerned enough to call me. I think he was afraid that I was burning out like Dolph had. I didn’t want to tell him I already had.

I went to sleep that night snuggled against Micah with Nathaniel snuggled into me. It felt right and I slowly relaxed. I didn’t realize I was dreaming until I saw Jean-Claude. He was dressed in skin-tight black pants with black boots that laced up the back. His shirt was the color of blood when it first hits the air. It was sheer and I could see his nipples. I reached out my hands to touch. I hadn’t even looked at myself. My own gown was diaphanous and the same color as his shirt. As I reached him, the gown flowed around his legs. He met my lips in a kiss so hot I felt the heat all the way to my soul. I put my arms around him and let myself enjoy it.

The dreams increased in intensity over the next few days. They had gone way past NC-17 and straight into XXX territory. I was waking, trembling, drenched in my own arousal. Sometimes Micah was there, but usually I woke alone. At first the dreams were just Jean-Claude and me but that had changed last night. Asher joined the dream. It was as electrifying as it had been the first time. And left my body just as weak. I actually touched my neck to see if I was bleeding. I was afraid to go to sleep.

Erotic didn’t describe the next dream. Jean-Claude claimed me in every way he could. He and Asher both did things to my body that we had never discussed, that I had never imagined. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but want. I came to myself with Micah poised between my legs. “Anita, forgive me,” he said and plunged deep, no preliminaries, something he never, ever, did. I screamed as he brought me with that single thrust, my back bowing on the bed and my nails raking down his back, piercing the skin, drawing blood. Micah came in that single thrust as well. He collapsed on me, panting. I could smell our arousal, sweet and musky, and it made me writhe beneath him.

“I’m sorry, Anita,” Micah whispered. “I couldn’t help myself.” His eyes were kitty-cat eyes and their inhuman beauty mesmerized me. He rolled us so that we were side by side. “Did I hurt you?”

My body no longer pulsed with unrestrained pleasure and I could feel it again, the aches and bruises that may have been from Micah or perhaps from the dream. I wasn’t sure what was real anymore.

“No, I mean, I don’t think so. What happened?”

Micah raised an eyebrow at me. “Tonight or this week?”

Now I was confused. I was starting to come back to myself. :”What are you talking about?”

“Haven’t you wondered why Nathaniel hasn’t been sleeping with us? Why he hasn’t even come home the last two nights?” Micah was running his fingers through my hair and he smoothed it back from face so that he could see me.

I guess I hadn’t wondered. I was too busy getting through each day and eaightight. In truth, the last week was a blur, afterimages of my dreams imprinting themselves so completely that all I could think of was how badly I wanted Jean-Claude in the flesh. And it wasn’t the ardeur that needed him so completely. It was me.

“Nathaniel shifted two nights ago,” Micah said.

My eyes went wide. “What do you mean? Where?”

Micah looked at me with an expression that I had never seen before. A combination of embarrassment and defensiveness. Finally he sighed in resignation. “You know that on the night of the full moon, when we have to shift, that we hunt.”

“Sure. I had asked Richard once and he said he always wanted meat after the change.”

“Well, after we hunt, we usually mate.”

I wasn’t expecting that and pushed at him. He grabbed my wrists and held them. “No, not me. Certainly not anymore. But the younger ones. They almost can’t help it. The women are in,” he paused and it was clear he was trying to come up with an inoffensive way to tell me something I wouldn’t like. “The hell with it. The women are in heat. They want sex and they want it in cat or human form.”

I relaxed against his hold. “So what does this have to do with me?”

“You may not be one of us in body, but you are one in spirit and your spirit was desperate for satisfaction. You were thrashing and moaning and whimpering and the scent of your arousal was almost overwhelming, even to me. Nathaniel was on top of you before I could even react. He had gone so far as to mount you when I knocked him off the bed. It wasn’t just that he was about to have intercourse with you. It was that he had already lost control of his beast. He shifted immediately. You were still lost to the dream.

“Frankly, it wasn’t altogether different from what happened to me just now except that I didn’t shift. I just knew I had to have you or die trying. Whatever the hell he’s doing to you is damned effective.”

I didn’t know what to say about any of it. It frightened me a little. “How’s Nathaniel?” I asked.

“He cried. He was so ashamed of himself. I told him that it had nothing to do with him but he didn’t believe me. He decided that unless you needed to feed, he’d be better off sleeping elsewhere. I would have told him the same thing.”

“Oh, God, I’m sorry,” I said. This was one of those unintended consequences that always reached out to bite me in the ass. I closed my eyes. “I’ll go over to the Circus and tell Jean-Claude tomorrow night.” I bit my lip. “You were right. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone but my good intentions never seem to work out the way I plan.” I didn’t mean to sound so dejected but the thought of telling Jean-Claude terrified me. I was so sure that he’d hate the idea. That he’d hate me.

“Anita, I don’t understand why you’re so afraid to tell him. He loves you.”

But I wasn’t really listening. In fact, I wanted to take a shower and maybe even change the sheets. Good sex is supposed to be messy but this was ridiculous. By the time we were done and curled up into one another, it didn’t seem worth it to go to sleep, but my body had other needs.
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Consequences