CHAPTER FIVE: Ministrations

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"You're not the first attorney to ever be lied to by a client, Roman." Carlton's tone was dismissive, and Juliet agreed with him.

But Roman didn't. He took it personally. He asked with more belligerence than one would expect from a 5'7" lightweight, "Are you saying I'm stupid, Detective? Gullible? Easily led?"

Carlton frowned at him. "No, I'm saying criminals can lie very convincingly."

They were outside the furniture store where Shawn Spencer had done a big reveal to prove Roman's client Joe Blume was in fact the murderer—which Blume abruptly stopped denying—and most of the players were already on the way back to the station.

Blume persisted, "But I'd have to be stupid not to catch it, right? After fifteen years in this line of work?"

"Mr. Roman," Juliet interrupted, "no one's saying you're stupid. This happens all the time. Suspects lie to everyone."

"I don't represent criminals!" he shouted at her.

"Easy," Carlton advised sharply. "Don't take that tone with my partner."

"I'll take it with you, then, Assiter!" With that, he swung at Carlton.

The element of surprise allowed his fist to connect with Carlton's jaw, shoving him back against the Crown Vic, and while he was down, Roman kicked at his legs and went on shouting.

Juliet went after him—partly because it was her job and partly because how dare he hit her man—but the attorney's rage allowed him to fling her off, during which time Carlton got to his feet and put a quick end to the altercation with a punch to the nose and an assist to Juliet in getting the idiot cuffed.

"You're under arrest for assaulting two police officers," Juliet snapped, twisting his wrists a little more roughly than she needed to click the cuffs in place.

"Which answers the question about whether you're stupid," Carlton added, rubbing his jaw. "And I suggest you exercise your right to remain silent, nimrod."

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Lassiter's face ached, as did his back where he'd hit the car door hard on his way down. He'd popped a couple of Aleve and let Juliet talk him into a few minutes with an ice pack on his jaw, but he was more concerned about the way she was processing Roman: he wasn't used to her staying this angry with a perp.

He was a little flattered, but didn't think he should be. He'd been on the receiving end of a fist before in her presence and they'd both had minor injuries from incidents like this in the past. Was her own ego bruised?

Karen Vick came out of her office, glanced at him and went to Juliet's desk to speak quietly.

Juliet glanced at him too, then back at Karen in what appeared to be consternation. She turned pink—Lassiter began to feel alarmed—and then composed herself. He heard her clearly say, "Yes, Chief, I will," before Vick, with another glance to Lassiter, returned to her office.

Juliet came to his side. "I'm under orders to take you home."

"What? I'm fine, O'Hara."

"Orders," she repeated. Her blue-gray eyes were a bit wide.

"What else did she say?"

"I'll tell you in the car. Come on. Now."

Lassiter knew better than to argue with that tone of voice, and very soon he was a reluctant passenger in his Ford Fusion while Juliet drove them to his condo.

She'd pretty much moved in a few months earlier and they often shared a ride to the station, and so far there had been only a few questions about that; once or twice they'd toss off a line about saving gas by carpooling. He was surprised Spencer hadn't sussed them out yet. If he'd spent his nights at Juliet's, they'd have been busted a long time ago, but since Juliet was able to park in the private garage for his condo building, no one passing could see her Bug there.

"So what did Vick say?" he persisted.

To his surprise, she turned pink again. "First she said to get you home. I said you'd argue with me." She gave him a look, daring him to challenge her; he wisely kept quiet. "So she said I should use my feminine wiles as your partner in more than just work."

"Ah, hell," he said with feeling.

Her hands were tight on the steering wheel. "I said I didn't know what she meant by that, and she reminded me she was pretty good at her job and while she appreciated that we'd been discreet so far, she wasn't above using our relationship to be sure you got the rest and recovery time you needed."

"Crap. Crap. Dammit, she wasn't supposed to find out like this."

"I'm glad she figured it out on her own," Juliet retorted. "There's been at least four times she might have walked in on us and had to fire us on the spot."

"Six," he mused, "if you count the times I—"

"Seven," she interrupted, "if you count the time I did it to you, but the point is, we could have been found out in very bad ways."

"Or outed by Spencer."

"That, too." She shivered. "Anyway, I'm glad to have a reason to get home early. I've been looking for an excuse to pamper you."

Lassiter's interest was piqued. "What do you have in mind?"

She shrugged, pulling into his parking space in the garage. "Shower, massage. No big deal."

He grasped her arm before she could get out of the car, and drew her close for a kiss. "It's a big deal."

Juliet grinned. "Then you'll thank me for it later, won't you?"

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She guided him into the bedroom and urged him out of his clothes, noting with renewed annoyance and concern the beginnings of the bruise caused by his collision with the car. His jaw was beginning to show its own bruise, and she kissed him tenderly, stroking the skin lightly.

"Shower," she commanded, patting him on the butt (and a nice trim butt it was) as he remarkably obediently went down the hall to the bathroom.

Truth was, she was royally pissed off at Roman. Truth was, she got pissed off any time someone attacked Carlton, even before he was her Carlton, but today, she'd wanted to kill the attorney.

This is why partners aren't supposed to get involved, said the sensible little voice.

Stuff it, she said back. She and Carlton were locked together for life now, and there would be no disentanglements of any kind ever if she had any say in the matter.

She put out some lotion and a towel, then stripped off her own clothes and followed his path to the bathroom.

Carlton did not object to her joining him in the shower. She stood on tiptoes to kiss him, and while the water cascaded over both of them, his wet hands slid down to cup her bottom as his lips moved silkily across hers. "I feel better already," he murmured, his so-blue eyes reflecting his desire.

So did she. Rubbing her body against his, feeling the delightful friction of water and soap and love, she was reluctant to separate herself from him, but nonetheless made him turn around so she could wash his back. Gentle where the bruise was forming below his shoulder blade, she washed his skin and peppered it with kisses, and then put her arms around him, resting her cheek on his back while caressing his abdomen and parts south.

Carlton sighed and murmured her name, his hands moving to guide hers. He was already aroused, as she could well feel, and after a few minutes he turned around again, enclosing her in his arms, his erection between them demanding attention.

He took over the sponge and began to wash her, which had not been her intention—she was there to take care of him—but once his fingers began to slide all over her wet body she pretty much lost all inclination to argue the point.

He lifted her left leg and she took the cue to balance her foot on the edge of the tub. With one hand he went to work where she was warmest and wettest; he wrapped the other arm around her shoulders, holding her close, bracing her, and when it was time he slid into her smoothly, deeply, kissing her with surprisingly languorous intensity.

The sound of the water was accompaniment to fast breathing and moans. Juliet arched against Carlton as his thrusts deepened and like every other time they'd made love, she was blown away by the utter completion she felt with this man.

He lowered his head to suckle at her nipples, to lick away droplets of water from between her breasts even as more water overtook his efforts, and he sighed out her name.

Her orgasm was fierce and spurred his, and she was left limp, cradled in his arms, as the water began to cool.

"That wasn't supposed to happen," she managed, letting him towel her off a few minutes later.

"Sorry, no do-overs." He was a bit smug, and she enjoyed how the light of his amusement turned his eyes a brighter blue.

"You're still getting that massage, you know."

"I'm counting on it."

Juliet examined his jaw again. "Did it hurt when we kissed?"

"Not enough to make me stop." Another wicked grin.

She laughed and pushed him down the hall, still nude. "To the bedroom with you, beastie."

"Yes, officer." He needed no directions, and lay on the bed on his back while she toweled her hair.

"You are a fine-looking man," she said appreciatively. He was in shape without being muscle-bound; she loved his long legs and the damp fur on his chest.

"You are a fine-looking woman." His eyes were on her breasts, but he grinned when she threw the towel at him. "Well, you are."

"On your stomach." She climbed up beside him, kneeling by his side and warming the lotion with her hands while he obeyed, turning his head on the pillow so he could see her. "And close those big blue eyes, please."

With a sigh, he obeyed, and she went to work.

Sex in the shower had relaxed him pretty damned well, so there wasn't a lot of tension for her to work out of his muscles.

But she did very much enjoy stroking his body, and Carlton clearly enjoyed it too. The lotion was silky between her fingers and his skin, and she lengthened the stroking to cover the distance between the back of his neck all the way down to his ass and upper thighs.

Dipping her fingers between his thighs elicited an "mmmmm" from her man which had a different timbre than the others, and she herself was already feeling plenty of mmmmm herself.

She stroked his hips, curling her fingers under his body from time to time, making him shiver, and transferred her attentions to his arms, from shoulders to the palms of his hands.

Carlton said thickly, "I really want to turn over now."

Instead, she returned to the skin of his thighs, sliding between again, stroking from knee all the way up and then down again.

He said more clearly and indeed more desperately, "Please."

Allowing it, she took more lotion in her hands—noting with pride another impressive erection in the works—and started the torture at his shoulders, working her way down his abdomen. She could feel his racing heartbeat, there and at his wrists, and without ceremony she parted his thighs and knelt between them.

She spent more time on his stomach and sides, slipping her hands up to caress his nipples and play with his chest hair before moving back to his navel and groin.

Wide blue eyes, dark with desire. "Let me touch you," he said.

"Not yet." She wasn't ready to stop stroking him—avoiding only the part of his body he most wanted her to touch—because she really loved the feel of his skin and the knowledge that she was driving him insane and anyway it was only a matter of time before he broke and—

He clamped his hands around her wrists. "I'm taking you now," he said decisively.

With this (not that she fought), he reversed their positions, and his mouth was on her moments later.

His black and silver hair, still damp from the shower, felt silken against her thighs; it was a bonus sensation to everything else, including the deliciously long-fingered warm hand which wandered up to caress her breast while he drove her mad.

She moaned in intense pleasure; he was so very damned good at what he was doing. His mouth and tongue and fingers knew every possible way to awake every single nerve ending, particularly there… and there… and oh dear God right there. "Carlton," she gasped.

He ignored her and continued pushing her to an orgasm she would never forget, and no sooner had she crested it than he was doing it again.

Juliet was very nearly crying with ecstasy before he ended the torment, moved up her body and kissed her hard, so hard, sliding himself inside her with the utmost surety, filling her with velvet heat—insistent, demanding, taking what she gave and giving it back tenfold.

She was half-sobbing, her fingers gripping his shoulders, no doubt leaving new marks on the skin she'd just been trying to soothe. His mouth was as voracious as the rest of his body, silencing her moans with kisses made entirely of fire. When she opened her eyes she could only see the deep blue depths of his, and that was all she ever wanted to see: his love. His need. His completion of her—of them.

Evening came and settled over the room, over their still-trembling bodies.

Carlton stroked her hair gently, kissing the side of her face. "Is it redundant to tell you how much I love you?"

"Never," she whispered, rolling into his arms, weak and exhausted and never happier.

"Are you going to report the exact nature of your TLC to Vick?"

Juliet laughed. "I don't think so." She kissed his bruised jaw lightly. "I think she'll know I did my best."

"You surprise me every time," he whispered. "Your heart surprises me every time."

Tears came to her eyes. "Oh, Carlton. It's because my heart is yours now."

He sighed profoundly. "Then between the two of us, we have enough heart for ten people."

"Except Roman," she said.

Carlton laughed. "Yeah, except Roman. Though I don't know, honey. He did lead to all this today."

Juliet pushed him onto his back and straddled him. "Fair enough, but we're not dropping the charges."

"No, we're not." He smiled up at her. "But I might give him a number for a good lawyer."

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