CHAPTER FOUR: Other Women

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And the smut just keeps on comin' ~ feel free to tell me to stop. Not that I would. But you can tell me.

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"Francie says it's smut," Buzz said, glancing nervously over his shoulder as Shawn flicked through pictures on his iPad. "She says someone always knows if you're looking at it."

Gus, keeping a suitable distance away to reflect his disapproval, nodded in agreement.

"This is not smut," Shawn protested. "It's comic book art."

"Of buxom, half-naked women," Gus said. "Which you are looking at because they are buxom and half-naked, not because you care one damned bit whether Captain Zapp saves the world from homicidal harlots."

Shawn hesitated. "Well. I have to admit, I'm not sure the world needs saving from harlots. Besides, it's possible their homicidal inclinations can be redirected."

Buzz was blushing. "I'm sorry. I have to go before someone sees me seeing this." He hurried off.

Lassiter cleared his throat. "Excuse me, did you need police assistance of some kind, or are you just here to show off your soft-core porn?"

"Lassie! Don't you start." Shawn flopped down in the chair next to his desk. "These are high-quality images. Art! Besides, you need to check out Rakisha, the harlot queen's handmaid. Look at those—"

Henry interrupted from his own desk. "Shawn, knock it off. We're working here."

"I'm working too, Dad. These prints were stolen from our client. See, check out her boots. They're the exact color of her—"

"Enough," Lassiter snapped. "Henry, in your capacity as leader of the consultant lunatic fringe, please get these two out of here."

Henry sighed. "Fine." He got up and grabbed Shawn's arm, leading him away with Gus at their heels, ignoring Shawn's protests.

Juliet came over from her desk and sat in the chair recently occupied by Shawn. "So," she said quietly, with a smile. "You don't like looking at scantily-clad women?"

He met her blue-gray gaze squarely and answered just as quietly. "I like looking at you when you're scantily clad." He was thinking of a saloon girl costume, in fact. "Of course I also like looking at you when you're fully dressed."

She smirked, and her hand went to the top button of her blouse; he followed the movement, and caught her grin. "I'm not asking about me. I'm asking if you're pretending to be above looking at sexy images."

Leaning forward to be sure he was not overheard, Lassiter said, "Of course not. I try not to make a habit of it, not that I need to with you in my life, but of course I appreciate the female form in various stages of undress."

"So elegantly phrased," she teased.

"The point is," he persisted, "I don't see any value in broadcasting my interests to the world at large, and I don't glorify the women who choose to be objectified. Not to mention that many of them don't choose, and end up objectified anyway."

Juliet was studying him curiously. "You're... Well, I guess I knew this—you're a gentleman about women."

He felt his face warming. "Sounds old-fashioned. I don't know what I am. Society makes it hard to know what correct behavior is anymore because everything seems to be within bounds even when it shouldn't be."

"You know right from wrong, Carlton. That's a start. It's more than a lot of guys today have." She cast a meaningful glance in the direction Shawn had just been dragged.

Moving his chair closer to the end of the desk, he took a look around and reached out to squeeze her hand briefly. "I have to agree. For example, I'd never tell anyone about the colonel and the saloon girl because in the first place, it might affect your reputation, which could hurt you, and I don't want to ever hurt you. In the second place, what goes on between us is private and special and not for anyone else's ears or imagination. No one else needs to know about our intimate moments—or hours," he added with a grin, "because they belong to us. To share them diminishes their value. Diminishes us. I don't want that."

Juliet smiled slowly, her eyes alight with love. "I wish more people knew you like I do."

He smiled back. "I wish I could kiss you right now."

She crossed her legs, her hand straying to the top button of her blouse again. "I wish the station was empty so you could make love to me right here on your desk."

Lassiter's eyebrows went up. "Well, I wish your wish could come true. I wouldn't mind a memory of you naked in my chair."

Sighing, she checked the room again before stroking his palm lightly, making him shiver. "I could definitely spend an hour just kissing my way up and down your body, starting with your left calf."

"Do tell," he murmured. They were almost too close now for anyone glancing over to not have cause to wonder what they were discussing. "See, I would start with your right breast."

"Is that your favorite?" Her smile was wicked.

"Oh, by no means. I love them both. And your navel. And the skin just behind your ear," he whispered, seeing her slight tremble.

"Carlton," she whispered back. "I'd really like to get you alone right now."

"Oh? What would you do with me?" He smiled, already aroused.

"Before or after I ripped your shirt open?"

Suddenly he wished he had a glass of cold water, maybe a pitcher, to dump in his lap. "After."

"Naturally I would apologize for ripping your shirt open," she said demurely. "Then I would stroke your chest for quite a while, from collarbone all the way down to your navel. I might have to kiss you a lot, too."

His mouth was dry; might have to drink some of that cold water first. "My lips or my chest?"

"Both." This time, when she crossed her legs, his gaze flicked in that direction. "Are you thinking of the janitor's closet? Because I am."

"We almost got caught the last time," he reminded her, "but yes, I am. What would do after you finished with my chest?"

"I'd unbuckle your belt and unzip your pants, of course." She was starting to look a bit restless. "What would you do with me?"

"I'd be more careful with your clothes," Lassiter assured her. "But they'd come off pretty fast. The blouse could stay on but it'd be open before very long."

Juliet let out a huge sigh. "Okay, I'll go scope out the closet. I'll text you when it's safe." She was gone before he could react.

Normally they did resist each other at work. Normally. There had been a few exceptions. Today was obviously one of them.

It seemed to take forever for the text to come through, and it said "All clear, and get here NOW."

He was on his feet in an instant, navigating the halls and stairs to get to her. The janitor's closet was really a small room lined with supply shelves on one side, cleaning equipment on the other, and a wide beat-up wooden bench at the back.

Juliet was sitting there, arms folded. "This is ridiculous."

"I know," he agreed, moving vacuum cleaners and floor waxers and a giant trash bin in front of the door so that if someone did come in (not that anyone should, and the janitor wouldn't be in for hours), there'd be some barrier between them and total exposure. What he'd told her before was true: he would hate more than anything for her reputation to be compromised. "You want to change your mind?"

"Hell, no. No way can I wait until tonight."

Lassiter smiled down at his perturbed love. "Then what's ridiculous? Two adults unable to control themselves?"

She stood up. "No. What's ridiculous is that I don't care." She hooked her fingers over his belt and stood on tiptoes to kiss him. "Now do me, dammit."

Laughing, he scooped her closer and swung her around so that he was seated on the bench, sliding his hands down her sides and hips, running down her thighs and calves, simply absorbing her through touch alone. She bent to kiss him again, and he unbuttoned her blouse while their mouths found each other… and found each other hungry.

She shivered at the feel of his hands on her midriff, and straightened up, grasping his shoulders, while he trailed his lips across her stomach and nuzzled her navel. He tugged at her slacks, pulling them slowly down her hips, not minding that they caught at her panties and pulled those along too.

Her skin was so silky soft, and he helped her step out of the offending clothing and shoes, immediately putting his mouth to her heat and investigating all the places he could make her sigh and squirm and whimper with desire. He cupped her ass and urged her closer, and with mouth and tongue alone it didn't take very long to turn her into quivering, gasping jelly. She raised one foot on the bench next to him, offering herself—her need—up again, and he gave her what she wanted, because he wanted it too. He always wanted her to feel the most pleasure possible. Bringing her ecstasy brought him as much joy as it brought her.

It also brought him a powerful erection most of the time, which Juliet knew perfectly well.

"Get those pants off," she commanded, her trembling belying the force of her words.

Lassiter obeyed—he would have anyway—and guided her to straddle his lap. He leaned back as she fit herself around him, her feet against the wall as they connected deeply.

She kissed him with a heat suitable for jet fuel, fingers anxious in his hair, thighs hot against his, making sounds of primal pleasure which enveloped him in all-out flame for her, a flame which engulfed them both and left them ruined, clinging together on the bench in a closet not intended for this activity.

He could not imagine loving or wanting or needing anyone more. He could not imagine what would become of him if she ever left.

Coasting back to reality, but staying connected and close, Juliet shocked him by asking, "Did you love Victoria?"

He stared at her, into her remarkable blue-gray eyes, and it never occurred to him to lie or hedge. "Yes."

"When did you stop?"

"Long before the separation, but it took me a few years to see it."

"Do you miss her?"

"Never."

Juliet kissed him, intently and too-briefly. "If you saw her today on the street and didn't know her, would you want her? Would you ask her out?"

He wrapped his arms tightly around her, hands sliding up her back under the blouse. "I doubt it."

"Why not? Wasn't she pretty?"

"She was, but—"

"If you weren't with me. If you didn't know me," she interrupted, wiggling a little in his lap, obviously still not quite... done.

"I don't know. I don't really think of women—actual 3-D women—as being… attainable." He nibbled her lips, holding her firm against him, not that it stopped her wiggling.

"What are you talking about?" She was getting out of breath again as she moved.

"I have no social life, O'Hara. I don't really have friends. I'm not allowed to get involved with witnesses or suspects. Women who get to know me don't like me. So yeah, I might see a woman and think she was hot, but doing something about it? What's the point? I'd be better off surfing the 'net for porn."

Juliet settled her warm sexy mouth on his, her tongue insistent and delicious. He was confused by these questions but not by her signals. She could easily go 'round again, and if she kept moving exactly the way she was moving in his lap, he'd be on the way himself.

"I love you," she said, her tone almost angry.

"I know. Thank God."

"You're a treasure, Carlton. You are."

He shifted a little and kissed her hard, hearing her gasp and feeling her heat so very erotically enveloping him. "You get to keep me."

"I intend to. And if," she said, punctuating this with another kiss, "you ever leave me," … pause for another kiss… "I will rent a billboard telling all other women what kind of loving, loyal, dedicated man they can find in you." Deeper kiss. Hungry as if they were just starting up.

"Juliet," he managed. "I will never leave you."

"Did you ever say that to Victoria?"

He pulled away and stared at her. "If I did, I was an idiot."

Her expression was unreadable. "You thought you loved her."

"I did, but that was a long time ago. So long. And it didn't last. And I never, ever, even once, felt about her the way I feel about you. I never loved her the way I love you. I'll never love anyone the way I love you."

Now a smile lit her beautiful face, and Lassiter felt his confusion fading as his arousal increased. "Good," she said emphatically.

"But why are you in the least bit insecure? My God, you're beautiful, desirable, sought-after—why the hell would you think any other woman could get my interest?"

Juliet sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. "Because I'm afraid if any other woman figures out what I know, she might try to steal you. And I won't lose you, Carlton. Not ever. To anyone. Not even iPad porn. You understand?"

Her unexpected possessiveness—enhanced by the rather intimate position they were in—fueled his desire anew. "I understand, and you are so getting done again," he said, and with that, unhooked her bra and took her nipple in his mouth without further delay.

"Which was my evil plan all along," she gasped out, head back, arching into his ministrations.

He knew better.

But he liked her plan anyway.

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