Disclaimer: I don't own Psych or any of its related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other Psych-Os like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.
Rating: M
Spoilers: Shouldn't be any canonical spoilers, but this is the threequel to "Monkey Wash Donkey Rinse" though it probably can be read on its for the faint of heart.
A/N: A provocative title, I admit; the song it comes from only slightly less so (it's actually a blues song, you can find it on Zevon's farewell album "The Wind" if you, like me, are technically incompetent and would rather buy an album than download a single song on the computer). As I'm writing this author's note I haven't penned a single word of this fic so I can only say now that I don't think it has a plot, it's just pure Lassiet smut. Just the way you like it. ;)
Rub Me Raw
Perhaps because of her Scottish heritage, as her mother and grandmother said (even though Lassiter insisted that her ancestors only became Scottish after getting fed up with "No Irish Need Apply"), Juliet O'Hara was not a wasteful spender. She set aside a good percentage of her paycheck each time, paid her bills, and her "mad money" budget was limited to roughly fifty to eighty dollars a month plus the change she shoveled out of her purse at the end of every week and into a clear glass cookie jar in her kitchen cabinet. Many months, her mad money budget remained resolutely unspent. When she didn't spend it, she didn't ordinarily consider it "carried over" into the next month, but rather more for the savings account kitty. On the day she realized that she had almost two hundred dollars of unspent change in her cookie jar and hadn't made one major unnecessary purchase in a good six months, she decided it was time to treat herself to a little craziness. On her day off, she hopped into her Bug and started a city-wide hunt for something to make her feel naughty. Given what she'd been doing lately with her partner-slash-lover, she was going to have to get a little creative if she wanted to up the naughtiness ante.
That evening when Lassiter arrived at her apartment for the homemade dinner she'd invited him to partake of, he had no reason to suspect she had anything more in store for him than the plain-cooked chicken and dumplings and a relatively ordinary night under the covers. Certainly the flirty, butter-yellow dress she wore when she greeted him at the door didn't seem to cover anything dark and lascivious. They ate dinner, washed the dishes together, and after leading him into the bedroom she locked herself in the adjoining bathroom for the next half hour. When she emerged, she was not the same woman.
"Oh, my sweet lady justice," he breathed.
"Why, yes," Juliet said, and took two steps into the room. "Yes, I am."
She gave him a moment to take stock of the situation - dark blue pleather bustier and panties, elbow-length black gloves, fishnet stockings, knee-length leather stiletto boots, her shoulder holster, badge and cuffs clipped onto her garter, a patrolman's hat on her freshly ringleted hair, and her billy club in her hand, being tapped firmly against the palm of her left. When she felt he'd had enough time to come to terms with the situation she tucked the baton under her arm, took that last giant step, and straddled him where he sat on the edge of her bed. She grabbed his tie and wound it around her fist. Her candy apple-red lips were less than a centimeter from his mouth when she spoke to him.
"You have the right to remain silent."
"Do you have a ball gag somewhere in that outfit? Because otherwise I've got a feeling that's going to be difficult."
She ignored him. "You have the right to an attorney. You're probably going to need one."
She stood up, tugging him to his feet by the tie. "Up against the wall and spread 'em."
He complied without hesitation. "You know, this isn't actually one of my fantasies," he said. "Not saying I don't like it, just saying I've never fantasized about this kind of thing before. Probably will from now on."
"'Right to remain silent' means 'shut up,'" she said. "All right, I'm going to have to search you for contraband."
"Oh, please, do, officer. I almost hope you find something."
She pulled his jacket off his shoulders roughly, but the game faltered momentarily. "You wore your sidearm to dinner?" she griped. "Really, Carlton?"
"Hey, you had the day off but I didn't. I came here straight after watch."
"Okay, okay, but that's a penalty, buster," O'Hara said, sliding smoothly back into character and drawing the butt of her blackjack gently across his cheek. She tucked the baton back under her arm and divested him of his holster and tie, and then unbuttoned his shirt with as much savagery as she could manage without popping any buttons or ripping any seams. She pulled the tails of the garment out of his slacks and slid her hands under the fabric over his skin, front and back. Then she pressed herself against him close and slid her hand down onto the front of his pants.
"Feels like you've got something stashed in your drawers, there," she said in her gruff "Officer Dominatrix" voice. "What is that, a blackjack? Sawed-off shotgun?"
Lassiter grimaced and gnawed the back of his fist for a moment. "Careful, Officer - it's got a hair trigger."
"Well, I think I'm going to have to take a little look-see, don't you think?" She unbuckled his belt and pulled it through the loops and dropped it to the floor, then undid his pants and stuck her hand down the front. "Just as I thought - carrying an illegal concealed weapon."
Lassiter made an inarticulate sound halfway between a moan and a mew. Juliet grabbed his wrist and brought it roughly behind his back, then did the same with the other. "This is for your protection and mine," she said while she cuffed him.
"Son of a…"
She dragged him by the cuffs to the bed and turned him around, then pushed him down onto it. She pulled his pants and boxers down to his ankles and dropped between his knees. When her hot mouth encircled him he groaned and flopped backwards onto his handcuffed wrists.
When she was done "frisking" him she crawled up onto the bed beside him and whispered in his ear. "You know, I put my handcuff key in the outfit somewhere but I think its slipped out of place. I don't know where it went, so…you're going to have to look for it pretty hard, I think."
His stomach flexed as he hauled himself upright. "Oh baby, everything I do tonight I'm going to be doing 'pretty hard.'"
After unlacing her bustier with his teeth, Juliet had to help him remove the rest of her costume, but they did it slowly, allowing him ample time to explore each region first even though both of them knew full well where the handcuff key was. Finally she pulled off her panties and he lowered his head between her thighs, taking a good long time about it before coming up with the key between his teeth. She uncuffed him and he was free at last.
"You realize, of course, that I'm not going to be nearly so cooperative now, right, Officer?" he said, pinning her down on the bed.
"I was hoping you'd put up a little fight, actually. It's just no fun unless they resist arrest."
FIN
