Summary: just a tiny little smutty addition to the formerly-one-shot smutfest.
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Before work, while he lay in bed listening to Juliet try to talk him into skipping his morning run and "exercising" with her instead (which speech was successful), Lassiter misheard something she murmured against the skin of his chest.
What she actually said was, "We have some time to put in here, you know."
He thought she said, "We'll have some kind of pudding here, you know."
She laughed and pretty much purred when he told her this, and the next twenty minutes were another blur of passion.
But all day long, he kept thinking about what he thought she'd said.
And all day long, he had a lot of trouble concentrating on his job.
Midmorning, on the way back from a crime scene, they stopped for coffee. Juliet got a latte with whipped cream and smiled at him the whole time she sipped at it.
At lunch, she ordered some kind of dessert—it hardly mattered what—which had a caramel drizzle on it, and she kept dipping her finger into the sticky sweetness, licking her finger clean with tormenting slowness while smiling at him in that same wicked, wicked way.
Mid-afternoon, they had to visit an 'adult novelties' store—not for any personal purchases, but because the owner was accosted as he was entering, pushed inside and forced to surrender the contents of the cash register along with a shopping bag full of vibrators, dildos, body paint and beads.
Lassiter had little to say. Truthfully, there was little he was capable of saying.
Juliet held up well enough; her cheeks were a little pink but there was nothing shy in the glances she kept giving Lassiter, who finally had to turn away. Problem was, in a sex shop, there wasn't much to look at which wasn't salacious in some fashion.
By the time they left with his statement and security video footage, Lassiter was barely functional.
He was driving, and told her tersely that they had to make a stop at home before returning to the station.
She said, "Hallelujah."
They were barely inside the condo before she was barely dressed and tearing at his clothes.
They didn't make it to the bedroom. He had her on the floor by the loveseat.
They both felt a lot better afterwards, and Lassiter thought maybe the 'worst' of it was over.
But then Juliet got up and went into the kitchen, telling him not to move—as if he could—and when she returned, all golden-haired and flushed and delightful to behold in her naked state, she held a container.
Of pudding.
Just a small one.
Butterscotch, he thought; something she'd bought for a workday snack.
It felt cool against his skin, and smooth (definitely butterscotch) when he removed it from her breasts with his tongue—and they needed a shower after.
Their quickie turned into several hours (they had to call in to say they were taking the rest of the day off), but this was no real loss to the citizens of Santa Barbara. Juliet confessed that she'd been as distracted as he was, and admitted to tempting him with whipped cream and caramel drizzle. Her 'comeuppance' was having banged her head against the loveseat during their first encounter, but he kissed it to make it better and next thing they knew, she was fetching another cup of pudding from the kitchen.
He resolved to mis-hear her more often. This had worked out really, really well.
He also resolved to keep pudding on hand.
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