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Sweets for the Sweet	By : lalaland Category: Anita Blake > Het Views: 6227 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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
- 1-Sweets for the Sweet
- 2-Chapter 2
- 1
- 2
Title: Sweets for the Sweet
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Up to and including Cerulean Sins
Disclaimer: Don't own Anita and Co. I swear it.
Pairing: Anita/Jean-Claude
Author's Note: OK, I know I should have finished the next 2 parts to Good Morning before doing this, but I had a dream. A really, really naughty dream. And this story is the result. It was really just supposed to be the sex, but somehow my introductory paragraph grew into a whole chapter. Don't know how. The naughty stuff is in the next chapter. I'll put it up later tonight or tomorrow. Or maybe in a few minutes, but probably not. My computer doesn't like doing too much stuff in short period of time. Once again, if you don't like the pairing, don't read it. Got it? Good.
Oh, and there is supposed to be a little mark above the "a" in "a la". I just couldn't figurt ht how to do it Word Perfect.

I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. It was 4:30 in the morning, and so dark that the trees lining my lane looked like black clouds come down to earth and were nearly indistinguishable from the inky sky. With a force of will I turned into my driveway. Sometimes I parked on the street, but right now I wanted to be as close to the t dot door of my house, less walking distance.
I turned off the jeep and gave my house a long, tired stare. Micah had left the porch lights on for me, and I guessed the living room ones, too, since soft yellow light shone around the edges of the blinds. I staggered through the door, my left hand hurting from tiny nicks from blood donations to the raisings. I was also sticky with chicken blood from the animal deaths for the zombies I raised after I just couldn't take anymore cuts. Granted, it wasn't as much chicken blood as it used to be, e oue out of the 8 raisings I did tonight, I only used chickens for 3. The other 5 were blood a la Anita. I winced as I moved my hand. Maybe I should have made it only 4.
The answering machine had no new messages on it. I frowned. I thought Jean-Claude was supposed to call me tonight. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, meaning to put it in the charger, when I realized I mhavehave accidentally turned it off. I shrugged. If it was anything really important, they would have called the house and left a message. Out of habit, anyway, I checked my voicemail. To my surprise, there were 2 new messages.
I hit the button to play them, and Jean-Claude's velvety voice came on. "Hello, ma petite. I am just calling to let you know that Asher has gone, as my second, to meet with the Master of New York City. As you have business up there soon, I have sent Asher, upon the Master's request, ahead to 'clear the waters', if that is the correct saying."
I frowned for a second because I had no idea what he was talking about. Then, my brain finally remembered that I was giving a speech to a U.N. panel on zombie rights and legislation next week.
Jean-Claude's voice sighed over the phone. "Perhaps it was not necessary, but Antonio, the Master, issued a preliminary invitation, to show his... good will to your presence. I do not believe Asher is in any danger, but I have sent Jason, Faust, and Ernie with him." Jean-Claude paused again, and this time there was an underlying eagerness to his voice when he spoke, "Since we now have the Circus mostly to ourselves, if you wanted to come over and talk," his candy sweet voice made my skin tingle, "I will be available." He laughed softly and my stomach clenched. "Au revoir, ma petite."
I looked at the clock. 4:50 AM. Dawn was around 6. My jaw cracked with a sudden yawn. There was no way I could drive over there right now. I was just too tired. I could have coffee, I thought. I had not had alone time with Jean-Claude for 3 weeks, since the addition of Asher to our bed. I didn't mind Asher, but I missed Jean-Claude. I actually missed him more than I thought I would. I missed spending time with just him, talking with just him, even eating for him. That was something that I just couldn't do in front of Asher. Just looking at his face whenever Jean-Claude brought up restaurants for our dates was enough to let both of us know he would suffer painful memories of moments with Julianna.
I pondered the situation for a few more moments, before deciding not to go. Even with the coffee, driving time, if I left without getting cleaned up, would give me only a half an hour with him. Maybe less. I needed more than that.
I played the second voice mail. Jean-Claude's voice came on again. "Hello, again, ma petite. Well, it is almost 4:30.... I guess you are busy at work..... So I suppose I will see you at another time. Good night, ma petite."
I sat down at the kitchen table and sighed. He sounded so dejected. My fingers were punching his number into the cell phone before realized what I was doing. Jean-Claude had a cell phone now, too, so I wasn't surprised when the Master, himself, answered.
"Yes," he asked, irritably.
"Well, hello to you, too," I answered grumpily.
"Ma petite! Hello, I was not expecting you to call. I had just about given up on you." His tone indicated that he had brightened considerable.
"I'm sorry I missed your calls, I had accidentally turned my cell phone off. I can't come over tonight."
He was quiet. It was hard to miss how hoarse and tired my voice sounded.
"I understand, ma petite. I just knew that we were both hoping for some..." He trailed off.
"Alone time." I finished for him. "I know. I miss you." I shook my head. I hadn't meant to say the last part out loud.
"Je t'aime, ma petite. I miss you, too."
My hand gripped the phone, wishing I was with him. "So Asher is going to be gone just for tonight."
"No, he will stay at least one more night. It would be impolite of him not to do so."
Tomorrow night was Thursday night. I had just been complaining to him a few days ago about how much work I had scheduled for Thursday. I had 10 cases. I mentally reviewed what I had scheduled. If I just did 5, I would have time to meet him. The first 2 were at different cemeteries, but the next three were all in the same place. I could reschedule the later 5 for another time. Screw Bert.
"So we could have some alone time tomorrow," I said.
"Indeed we could, ma petite, if you are free." I could hear his smile over the phone.
"OK, how does 1 o'clock sound?"
"I will be awaiting your arrival." He gave another gut-clenching chuckle.
"Great. So, well, see you tomorrow. Good night." Not very romantic of me I know, but hey, I was close to passing out on my feet. So sue me.
He laughed again. "Good night, ma petite."
I slowly pressed the button to end the call, and made my way to the bathroom. 15 minutes later, clad only in a towel, I stumbled up the stairs to my bedroom. Nathaniel was scheduled to dance into the wee hours of the morning so it was only Micah that lay sprawled face down in bed, wearing only a pair of sweat pants. I dropped the towel to the floor next to the sheets that Micah had kicked off and climbed onto the mattress. I was just too tired to deal with clothes.
Micah sleepily twisted his face out of the pillow and calmly regarded me out of one eye. He lifted up an arm for me to crawl under. The last thing I remembered was curling my damp body next to his dry warm one. I think I was out even before he put his arm back down.
During the ensuing hours I was vaguely aware of movement around me. Micah got up at 9 to go into work, and Nathaniel plopped into bed at around 9:30, smelling of shampoo. He always showered when he got back from work, ever since I complained about the stench of stale cigarette smoke from the club soaking into my pillows.
He nuzzled his face against my bare breasts and I could feel him hard against me. Well, that made me get up. I pulled myself into a sitting position, not really caring about my bare, swaying chest. Nathaniel had seen the show before. Hell, he'd kissed, licked, and nibbled the show. Surely, looking at it, wouldn't do anything.
He lay on his back, completely stretched out, and gave a shy, but knowing, smile up at me. "Hungry?" he asked, arching like the leopard he was.
"Smartass," I whispered back, even though I could feel the ardeur coiling around my lower stomach and across my lap. From the sudden dilation of his pupils, I knew Nathaniel could feel it, too. I leaned over to press a kiss over his heart, which had just started beating faster. "But you're right. I am hungry."
Half an hour later, dressed, with my hair fixed from having gone to sleep with it wet, and Nathaniel contentedly sleeping in my bed with the covers thrown over him, I began rummaging through the kitchen. Sometime over the course of the early morning, I had an idea. A brilliantly, wonderful idea, if you get my drift. I found a cooler in one of the lower cabinets, and some tupperware containers in the closet, but I realized I would have to go food shopping before work, if I was to succeed with my plan.
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Sweets for the Sweet