Title: Consequences

Chapter: 1/18

Author: Sabriel

Contact: sabriel_0405@mindspring.com

Rating: NC-17 for sexual content

Pairings: The usual suspects

Disclaimer: All characters are the intellectual property of the multi-talented Laurell K. Hamilton. The copyright belongs to her. I am borrowing the characters solely for my own enjoyment.

Authors note: From a timeline perspective, this takes place after CS and technically after the short story in the anthology Cravings. However, with only some minor exceptions, the events of the short story are not taken into consideration here.

Chapter 1

I don’t know what woke me, it could have been anything. All I know is that I went from deep sleep to complete wakefulness without passing go. My stomach heaved and I nearly tripped over Nathaniel, trying to get out of bed and into the bathroom before I threw-up all over the carpet. I barely made it. I clutched the toilet, retching and shaking. I felt a hand against my forehead and another combing my hair out of the way. I knew it was Micah. He didn’t say anything. He just held my forehead until the now dry heaves stopped. He sat with his back against the tiled wall and cradled me, stroking my cheek, my arm, wherever he could touch, until the sweat dried on my body and my pulse slowed to normal.

“I thought I couldn’t get sick,” I said, my voice rough, tight, almost painful.

“You can’t,” Micah replied. “At least not theoretically,” he amended when I tightened in his arms.

“Then what the fuck is wrong with me?” I asked. “This is the third morning in a row! There has to be something wrong!”

Micah was silent for longer than I expected. It made me nervous. He moved my body just slightly so that it wouldn’t be a strain for me to look him in the eyes. “Is it possible that you could be pregnant?” he asked.

I pushed myself away from him so quickly that I nearly cracked my head against the toilet. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m on the pill. Besides, you told me you’d been fixed. The only other man I’m having intercourse with is Jean-Claude and he’s over four-hundred years old. I cannot possibly be pregnant!” I didn’t wait for him to reply. I stood up and stalked out of the room. I couldn’t be pregnant. The whole thing was ridiculous. I must have picked up a stomach bug or something. I’m not a full human servant. Maybe being impervious to disease only truly came after the fourth mark.

I dressed, had coffee and left for work without speaking with either Micah or Nathaniel. Nathaniel hadn’t done anything wrong, but he must have felt something emanating from me because he handed me a cup of coffee without meeting my eyes. He was rarely that submissive with me anymore but he had to have heard the argument I had with Micah, the tone if not the actual words. Shit.

Work would have been unbearable if Bert hadn’t been there. I had a new coffee mug in the office after my last one mysteriously fell off my desk. He’d tell the cleaning crew to be more careful. Right. He wasn’t going to like this one any more than the others. “If you can’t beat them, arrange to have them beaten.” Worked for me.

Actually, I liked my job. I was handling between 3-5 raisings a night. I could have done more but with Bert, the more you did, the more you were expected to do. I let him think that covering for Larry while he finished getting his official Marshall’s badge was testing my endurance. Truth be told, I barely noticed the added work except that I was getting home so late it was difficult to stick to a schedule for feeding the ardeur. But we were managing. I was down to less than one feeding per day. No one was collapsing at work anymore. Yippee!

My cell phone rang a little after one in the morning. I had finished two of the three zombie raisings for the night and was unloading the trunk of my car for the third. I was running a little late but the last job would most likely be a quick one.

“Yeah?” I asked, a little distracted.

“Ma petite,” Jean-Claude said, his voice like whispers of silk along my spine. Sometimes the voice tricks annoyed me. Other times, like tonight, I needed to feel a connection with him and this was the closest I was going to get.

“Jean-Claude,” I breathed.

He chuckled, a low, masculine sound that made things tighten low in my body and reminded me that I hadn’t fed today and probably wouldn’t have a chance to do so until tomorrow morning. “I was hoping to see you tonight, ma petite.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “I wish I could, Jean-Claude, but I’m not through working for the night and then I really need to get some sleep.” I wasn’t kidding about the latter. Two raisings shouldn’t have sapped me, but I was feeling unusually lethargic.

Now he sighed. I could practically feel his breath against my neck. I shuddered with desire. “Stop that,” I said. “I have work to do!” But there was no heat in my voice.

“Oui, ma petite, I understand. Work must come first.”

He sounded so dejected that I mentally reviewed my schedule to see if I could actually come over. “I’m sorry, Jean-Claude. I miss you, too,” I said. I even meant it. Sometimes it boggled my mind that I willingly missed a vampire but there was no question that Jean-Claude had a huge chunk of my heart. I fought it periodically, but if anything it only made the surrender that much sweeter. I was clearly damned either way.

“Je t’aime, ma petite,” he said and disconnected.

He had good timing. The lawyers were tapping their feet impatiently. If any of them had said anything to me about it, I probably would have gone out of my way to take longer but while the foot tapping didn’t cease, they were all business otherwise.

By two, I was exhausted. It wasn’t the zombie-raising. He was so newly dead that I probably could have raised him without the benefit of anything but blood but I didn’t want to advertise my power. I had enough problems. It was all I could do to drive home safely. I didn’t even get out of the car. I just rested my head on the steering wheel. I couldn’t remember ever being this tired before when I hadn’t been in a life and death struggle.

My driver’s side door opened and I had just enough strength to pull the Firestar. Micah ignored the gun and reached over me, unhooking the seatbelt. I half leaned, half fell into his arms. “I’m tired,” I told him.

“I know,” he replied. He carried me into the house, stripped me with tender efficiency and placed me into bed before crawling into bed beside me. It was just the two of us but I didn’t have the strength to ask about Nathaniel. He was probably working anyway. I snuggled into Micah’s side, the heat of his skin washing over me where I touched him. I didn’t understand this sudden exhaustion but I was asleep before I could worry about it.

Unfortunately, I woke to the competing needs of throwing up and having sex. They are not an appealing combination. Micah did his forehead holding routine but didn’t make the mistake of talking to me. In fact, I uttered the first words between us, when I finally returned to the bedroom all minty fresh. “Where’s Nathaniel?”

“His set ran late so he decided to go home with Jason. It’s just you and me,” he said, eyeing me speculatively.

I was naked and his gaze heated my blood. “No one else is home?” I said, a little breathy now, the ardeur prickling along my skin. But it wasn’t just the ardeur that brought me back to Micah. It was his acceptance of everything that I am. It scared me sometimes. I keep waiting for him to be too good to be true.

“It’s just us. You can scream all you want when I when I bring you,” he said, walking over to me with muscles moving that humans simply don’t have. He was naked too and already semi-hard. I swallowed audibly.

His kiss was soft, gentle. He coaxed my mouth open with his and his tongue was hot, wet, silky. I opened my mouth wider and pressed my body into his. I broke the kiss, already breathing hard. I moved onto the bed, not wanting to get so carried away we ended up on the floor. It had happened to us before and I didn’t appreciate the rug burns.

Micah stroked his hands down my body, neither touching nor avoiding my more sensitive areas. I touched him everywhere I could, marveling at the satin texture of his skin, the muscles that reinforced his delicate frame. We kissed again, long and hard, our tongues dueling thrust for thrust. I whimpered deep in my throat. He smiled that masculine smile of surety, a smile that would have offended me in a bar but that felt so right with his erection pressing against my thigh.

He kissed along my jaw-line, moved down my neck and nipped at my collarbone. I arched into him. He licked at my nipple, short, quick flicks of his tongue. The nipple tightened and I could feel the pull deep within me. I wanted more and he knew it.

“Please,” I moaned.

“What do you want, Anita? Tell me what you want.” He teased the other nipple the same way. The pleasure was so sharp it bordered on pain.

“Please, Micah,” I said again. I wasn’t at the incoherent stage yet but I had noticed that ardeur limited my desire for foreplay. It didn’t make it any less fun, just much more insistent. But I would have felt like this even if the ardeur had not been riding me. From the first time we had made love, Micah had been part of me, deeper than marriage, deeper than anything physical. We were joined on the metaphysical level. Sometimes that scared me. Other times, it just felt right.

“I know you want me,” he said.

I opened my eyes. I didn’t even realize I had closed them. “You can smell it, right?” I said, tired of having weres and vampires remind me that desire, mine in particular apparently, had a scent.

“No,” he said, “I can see it. Your whole body reacts to me. The way you look at me. It’s breath-stealing. Every time.” His voice was low, rough and full of need, mine, his, ours.

He didn’t tease me again. He simply took my nipple in his mouth and sucked hard. I almost screamed with sensation. My nipples were usually pretty sensitive but this felt like a direct connection to my pleasure center. My neck snapped back and I reveled in the pleasure shooting between my legs. I was panting now, gripping the bedsheets as he moved to the other nipple and gave it the same treatment.

I wanted to turn the tables on him, to move down his body, but we had learned that the first time fed the ardeur. The second time, if we had the strength, fed us. I just held on for the ride. His hand had slipped between my legs, lightly brushing the curls there before delving into the slick folds.

“I love how wet you get for me,” Micah breathed. I felt myself flush. He kissed down my stomach, tickling my belly button. I giggled which ended on a moan. He moved between my legs and I tensed, waiting, needing his touch. He skipped the main event entirely and began massaging my calves. His strong, slow touch kneading out the tension. But I tension in other places. I writhed on the bed, arching my hips, pleading wordlessly for satisfaction. He chuckled. I couldn’t wait to get even with him.

“Is this what you want?” he asked before he parted the folds of my sex and licked, slow and sure. I did scream this time, the pleasure almost overwhelming, filling me to the brim but not yet to overflowing.

“Please, Micah,” I said, almost incoherent with lust. But I knew he wouldn’t give in that easy. I was right.

He shook his head. “Tell me what you want, Anita. I need to hear the words.”

I panted and struggled to form a coherent sentence. “Please, I need you inside of me. Please, be inside me, please,” I begged. At this point, I would have groveled if it meant he would push me over the shining edge of orgasm.

He positioned himself against me and pushed, slowly, steadily, inexorably. My breath caught in my throat. “Faster,” I pleaded.

“Soon,” he said. Micah was always in control, even when I pushed him over the edge. He never moved quickly in the beginning, always wanting to make sure my body was truly prepared to receive his.

He filled me, thick and heavy. My legs opened wider to give him more room and he slid forward another inch. I gasped. I wanted all of him and I wanted him now. “Faster!”

“You are much too impatient,” he grinned at me. We had had this argument before. One of the benefits of his “alpha-ness” was his ability to retain control long after he had totally shredded mine. Admittedly, I had better control when the ardeur was not riding me. “Slow and steady gets the job done.” He thrust a little harder, a little deeper this time. I arched against him, meeting his thrust with one of my own, wanting, needing him deeper.

He pulled himself back so that only the tip of him remained inside. He met my eyes, smiled, and thrust hard, all the way in. He thrust his beast through me at the same time. I screamed as he propelled me over the edge. I lost consciousness for a few moments. I had been experiencing la petite morte, the French’s little death, more frequently lately. It disturbed me when I thought about it, something I tried desperately not to do. I mean, my lovers couldn’t possibly be getting better, could they?

I couldn’t have been out for more than a few seconds because Micah was still pounding into me. The pleasure built more quickly this time. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” I cried. He covered his mouth with mine, preventing any more discussion. His thrusts were less rhythmic, more forceful, nearing that edge of pain that always made it seem more exciting, more intense. He hit my cervix with every thrust, something he never did when we weren’t feeding the ardeur, and I knew I’d be bruised. But oh, it was worth it. He let out his own cry and I felt him flood me with scalding heat. The ardeur fed from Micah everywhere he touched me, his hands, his chest, his shaft still hard inside me. I couldn’t remember ever being this sated.

Micah collapsed on top of me for a moment before rolling to his side and taking me with him. We snuggled together, trying to remember how to breathe. My body was numb with pleasure. He kissed the back of my neck. “Thank you,” he said.

I was barely conscious and my body still pulsed with aftershocks. “For what?” I whispered.

I never heard what he answered.

Chapter 2

“Anita. Anita!” Micah shook awake. I blinked a couple of times and then blushed, remembering. I was less embarrassed about sex than I used to be. Hell, I had had enough partners lately that I should have been completely over it, but I wasn’t and the memory of the things that Micah could do to my body always brought pink to my cheeks.

I started to press kisses to his arm, his shoulder, anywhere that I could easily reach but he stopped me. “We don’t have time,” he said. “You’ve been asleep for hours. I couldn’t wake you. I was starting to worry. You’re going to be late for work.”

He was right. I didn’t even remember dreaming. But I dismissed his concern. I didn’t remember being so completely satisfied either. I grabbed a quick shower, dressed, ate whatever Micah handed me and made it to the office a few minutes before my first appointment. On the other hand, why the hell was I so tired lately? It was an uneventful evening except for the one client who must have been wearing a bottle of perfume. She walked in the door and my stomach flipped over. I put my head between my knees and tried to convince the client that I could do the job. It’s funny but when I asked Craig, our night secretary about her, he couldn’t recall that she was wearing any perfume at all.

It only took another few mornings of kissing porcelain before I drove 15 miles out of my way at 3 am to go to an all night drug store to purchase several brands of early pregnancy test. It wasn’t possible. I knew it wasn’t possible. But the alternative, that something was seriously wrong with me, wasn’t worth considering.

I waited until everyone was out of the house before I opened up the first package. Then I opened up the second and then the third. All three said the same thing. Pregnant. I sat on the toilet for the longest time. I couldn’t be pregnant. How could I bring a child into my life? I couldn’t handle the wereleopards by myself, much less a baby. Worse, who was the father? I was on the pill. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Theoretically, it couldn’t happen.

Dr. Lillian was happy to see me, particularly since I wasn’t bleeding and wasn’t with anyone who was. “Anita, how good to see you. Won’t you sit down? What can I do for you?”

I liked Dr. Lillian. She has a no nonsense approach to medicine. Plus she’s known me long enough to know that I am not going to sit still and rest so she could stop prescribing it. “I think, I mean, it looks like,” I couldn’t say it loud. Instead, I passed her the results of the pregnancy tests. Heat rose in my cheeks as I waited for her to say something.

“Why don’t we go into the examining room?” She stood up and I followed. I hated this but she was gentle. When I was dressed and back in her office she said, “You look like you are about eight or nine weeks along. How are you feeling?”

“I’m tired, constantly nauseous, certain smells make me dizzy. Is it supposed to be this way?”

“For some women. Do you know who the father is?”

From anyone else the question would have made me ballistic but there was no condemnation in her voice. “None of this makes sense. Micah told me that he’s been fixed. Jean-Claude can’t possibly father children. He’s over four hundred! I am not having intercourse with anyone else. I’m on the pill. How could I get pregnant?”

“You’re on the lowest dose of the birth control pill. A missed pill could easily cause an accident. Have you missed any pills?”

I opened my mouth to say no when I remembered Musette’s visit. Two months ago. Jean-Claude and Asher. Belle Morte’s ardeur washing over my skin. Jason coming inside of me. Ecstasy in drowning waves. I hadn’t taken my pill that day or even the next. Oh, God, Jason had fathered my baby. I felt the blood drain from my face. Next thing I knew, Lillian was pressing my face down between my knees. “Breathe deeply, Anita,” she said. “And slowly.”

“I know who the father is. At least, I think I do. He’s a werewolf.” There. I’d said it. Out loud.

“But not Richard?” she asked.

Sometimes I forgot just how much she knew. “No, not Richard. One of his pack.” I wasn’t ready to name Jason yet. Then another thought hit. “Lycanthropy can’t be inherited, can it?” Oh, God, something new to worry about.

“No. It’s a disease and it does alter the genetic makeup of the victim, but it isn’t passed through the gametes.” Lillian was still kneeling in front of me. “Anita, do you want to have this baby?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you are still in the first trimester. An abortion is an alternative.”

“Not for me,” I said. It had nothing to do with religion and everything to do with the feeling that I destroyed enough life just doing my job. I didn’t know how I felt about all this beyond panic. But I couldn’t bring myself to snuff it out either. I was so screwed.

“Okay, I can write you a prescription for pre-natal vitamins but you need to find a real obstetrician. Most shapeshifters can’t bear children because of the change. I haven’t delivered a baby since my residency days.”

I was still reeling from my revelation. Jason Schuyler, werewolf, stripper and vampire snack, was the father of my baby. I know I took the prescription but after I left her office, I was on complete autopilot. I called Jean-Claude and left a message that I wouldn’t be able to see him that night. I wasn’t ready to tell him this. I didn’t know how he’d react but somehow I doubted that eternal happiness would be one of the options.

I went to the office and rescheduled my raisings. I needed some time at home, preferably alone. The house was dark when I got there but there was still enough ambient light that I didn’t bother turning on the lamps. I curled up on the couch and stared at the prescription in my hand. Lillian had also provided some referrals. I crumpled both papers in my hands. This wasn’t supposed to be happening.

I was still curled up on the sofa, in the dark, when Nathaniel came home. He walked in the door and flipped on the lights. I blinked against the sudden brightness. “Anita!” he exclaimed. “Are you okay?”

I shook the cobwebs from my head. “Yeah, I’m fine. What are you doing home?” I asked to deflect him.

“I wanted to grab something to eat before I go to work. Stephen is picking me up on his way in. Can I make you a fresh pot of coffee?” He was walking and talking at the same time, something I seemed incapable of. I did want the coffee but I thought about the lecture Lillian had given me about eating healthy and cutting out caffeine. She also talked about miscarriages being common in the first trimester.

“No, thanks, Nathaniel.” I knew I should make small talk but Nathaniel was good at silence. At least usually.

The refrigerator door slammed shut, dishes clanked on the counter. He eventually came out of the kitchen with a plate full of sandwiches. His hair was knotted is such a way so that he wouldn’t trip over it. He sat down on the seat across from me. “What’s wrong, Anita? And please don’t tell me nothing’s wrong. I share your bed. I’ve seen how sick you are in the morning. Your vampire marks are supposed to protect you from illness. So what’s going on?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Nathaniel. I’m okay. Really.” I couldn’t look at him when I said it.

“Does Micah know? Or Jean-Claude?”

“Micah knows. It’s okay, Nathaniel,” I said, looking at him this time. I opened my arm and he practically crawled into my lap. I ran my hands over him and the touch gave me comfort too. It still surprised me, how much I had grown to need the touching. Me, who went for years with only the most superficial caresses. Now I was practically lonely if only one other person shared my bed.

We stayed like that for a while, until Nathaniel really had to get ready for work. He left about the time that Micah came in. “Have you had anything to eat lately?” he asked.

“I’m not hungry. I’m pregnant,” I said. I hadn’t meant to say it like that. I mean, he knew before I did, it wasn’t like it was a surprise. But he still walked out of the kitchen slowly, with his hands out in front of him, as though he were afraid I was going to pull my gun.

“I’m pregnant,” I repeated and tears trickled down my cheeks. Micah gathered me in his arms and rocked me. It seemed to be a theme.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said and pulled me closer, stroking his hands through my hair. I relaxed in his arms.

When I had stopped crying he suggested that he run a bath. He even lit the candles that Jean-Claude kept me supplied with. The water felt heavenly around it and cradled against him, I felt safe.

“I went to see Dr. Lillian today. She confirmed it.” Micah didn’t say anything. I suppose there was nothing to say. “Aren’t you going to ask me who the father is?” I asked or more specifically, goaded.

I wasn’t looking at him so I didn’t see him shake his head, though I felt his curls brush against my shoulders. “I know who the father is,” he said.

I pushed away from him until I could turn and face him. “What the hell do you mean you know?”

He gave me that look that indicated I was, once again, being surprisingly naïve. “Anita, there are only so many men in your bed who could make you pregnant. I knew you had been with Jason, roughly two months ago. I was there that day, I saw how strung out you were with Belle riding you.” He stopped. Perhaps he saw the shock on my face.

“Did Jason tell you?” The idea that Jason might have gone around bragging, but no, I quashed that thought. Jason would flirt with anything on two legs but he didn’t kiss and tell.

“He didn’t have to. I saw him with you when the pack came in. The way he touched you. The way you shivered. I knew.”

“You never said anything.” It was a statement.

“Anita, what was there to say? I told you I would do anything to be your Nimir-Raj. The ardeur is just one part of you. You aren’t in love with Jason. He’s on your short list. The people you’d kill or die to protect, but he’s not in the same league as Jean-Claude. Or even Richard.”

“Please do not go there. I don’t want to think about Richard right now. Or Jean-Claude.” I moved back toward Micah, feeling bereft without his touch. He pulled me back against him hard and when his lips came down over mine, I met them with all the power I had inside of me.

I was exhausted again when were finished, which thankfully had been in bed. We would have drowned otherwise. He was still inside me and I was pressed up against him so hard that it was like I was trying to go through him with my body.

“When are you going to tell the pard,” Micah asked.

“I’m not,” I said.

Micah went very still around me. “What do you mean?” he said, striving to maintain a very neutral tone.

“Dr. Lillian told me that a lot of women miscarry in the first trimester. I don’t want to tell anyone until after that point.”

Micah looked as though he wanted to disagree with me but said instead, “I think Cherry already knows.”

“Probably. But she’ll keep it to herself until I say something. Nathaniel knows something is wrong too, but he is satisfied that you know.”

“What about Jean-Claude?”

I stiffened. “I’m not going to tell him either. Not yet.” I couldn’t look at him so I buried my face in the crook of his shoulder.

“Are you going to avoid sleeping with him for the next month?”

“What do you mean?”

“Anita, I knew you were pregnant a month ago. Your reactions are sharper, your whole body is more sensitive. And when I run my beast through you, I can see the fetus,” he said with a sort of awe in his voice.

“You can see…,” I let my voice trail off.

“Yeah. It’s incredible. And a little frightening. But you’re avoiding my question.”

“I’ve avoided Jean-Claude for weeks. Except in my dreams. I’m not ready to tell him,” I said.

“Why not?”

Why not, indeed. Because in my heart of hearts, I thought this might cross his line. That I could have gotten pregnant. I needed Micah in metaphysical ways I didn’t understand. But I loved Jean-Claude. Losing him would destroy me and I wanted to put it off for as long as possible.

“Because I think he’ll hate the idea. This will change everything. And when he finds out it was Jason it will be worse. He might think he is fine with the idea that Jason is his pomme de sang and therefore it’s okay that I use him to feed from, but getting me pregnant? I’m not ready to lose him, Micah.”

“Anita, he loves you. All of you. This will change nothing.” I didn’t answer and he pulled me tighter. “He’s going to get suspicious, if not concerned.”

“I know. But I’ll tell him how busy I am at work and give him access to my dreams and it will tide him over. Sort of.” I knew I was wrong which only made me defensive. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“He loves you, Anita. Don’t sell him short. You’re going to have to tell Jason, too, you know.”

I pulled away and got out of bed. “I don’t want to talk about it!” I stalked from the room. Micah let me go. He got brownie points for that, but he usually did. I threw on a robe and went into the kitchen, debating about ordering Chinese.

He joined me as I finished ordering enough food for us both. It wouldn’t go to waste. Not in this house. Between Zane and Nathaniel, food didn’t remain long enough to go bad. Not the way it had when I lived alone.

“What am I going to do, Micah?” I huddled in my robe but he didn’t make any moves to get closer.

“Whatever we have to do, Anita. You’re not alone anymore.”

Chapter 3

Micah had been correct. Jean-Claude didn’t react well to my absence. “Ma petite, it has been weeks since we’ve seen each other. Surely, you can find some time to come to the Circus? Or I can come there.”

Guilt played along my shoulders and tensed them. “I’m sorry, Jean-Claude. Really, I am. But you can have my dreams,” I said. Little did I know what I was opening myself up for.

At first, the dreams were rated PG. He took me on dreams of dinner dates and cuddle sessions before roaring fires. Things we didn’t actually do in real life. I was still dressed in his leather and lace concoctions, but even those covered me up more than usual. He was enticing me and I knew it. It worked anyway.

“Those weren’t the kind of dreams I had in mind,” I told him. I couldn’t help it. I missed him and I wanted him. And it was my choice not to have him.

“No, ma petite? I’ll do something different tonight.” The promises in his voice sent satin shivers down my spine and I moaned involuntarily. “Go to sleep early,” he said. I could barely wait.

The pard had been tiptoeing around me for the last few weeks. On one hand they touched me more frequently. On the other, they didn’t talk to me. They wore clothes more often. They were careful not to give me any excuse to get upset. It was disconcerting. Micah wasn’t disapproving of me exactly. He rarely went so far as to actively disagree with me. Nevertheless, he thought I was being unfair. The pard would welcome the baby.

Cherry knew. She didn’t talk to me about it, but I saw how she watched me. How she made sure that I was eating. I wasn’t used to being mothered. The last time I had been eight. Though that wasn’t entirely fair to Judith. Marianne tried hard to be a surrogate parent. Sometimes I accepted it. Sometimes I even appreciated it.

I went to bed early. Not because Jean-Claude told me to. Not even because I was tired. But because I needed to get away from the scrutiny. I was on the edge of consciousness when Micah and Nathaniel slipped into bed on either side of me. It felt so right that I slipped into deep sleep within minutes.

Jean-Claude had promised different and that’s what I got. We went from PG to R. We were at Guilty Pleasures and I was watching Nathaniel on the stage, the sensuous turns of his body made my own body mimic the movements. Jean-Claude was kissing my neck; I could feel the press of fangs. I leaned into him.

“Why are we here?” I asked.

“I thought you might want to watch this evening.” His voice had a note I couldn’t quite place but it had me suspicious.

“Watch what?” I asked.

“This,” he said and motioned to the stage.

Guilty Pleasures was a preternatural strip club and the biggest attraction was the men, shifters and vampires. So I was stunned to see a woman on stage. She wasn’t someone I recognized and yet she seemed familiar.

The woman was shorter than Nathaniel, long dark hair hung in curls down her back. She wore veils everywhere but seemed unfamiliar with the dance. Nathaniel circled around her and shimmied his hips until they bumped up against the woman’s. He took a hand in each of his and began moving her to the music. It looks sensual and inviting and the veils kept floating away. She had revealed her breasts; they were lush and heavy, the nipples tight though I wasn’t sure whether it was from excitement or cold. Nathaniel was leading her on the floor, moving her body this way and that, removing his own clothes piece by piece.

I was panting and I wasn’t even sure why, though when Nathaniel put his hands on the woman’s breasts to caress them, Jean-Claude had done the same thing to mine. The lightest of touches, the barest stroke against the nipples. I was moaning in his arms. “More,” I whispered. But my eyes were glued to Nathaniel and the woman. There was something sweetly awkward about her. She didn’t want to be there, though she didn’t mind being naked. At least she didn’t seem to. The last veils were coming off. She was wearing a thong that barely covered her, but I was more interested in her face.

“Can’t you guess, ma petite?” Jean-Claude whispered in my ear.

The woman was actively caressing Nathaniel now, who was down to his own G-string. I knew he was aroused. I had felt it often enough and he was on the edge. She was in front of him now, covering the place her hand was supposedly touching. But I saw him mouth a name as ecstasy gripped him. “Anita!” he cried out.

My eyes widened in panicked surprise. I turned to Jean-Claude. “It’s just a dream, ma petite, just a dream,” But his own hands had been busy why I watched Nathaniel and now it was my turn to cry out. I woke suddenly; groggier than when I had started.

Neither Micah nor Nathaniel had moved. It was just a dream. I’d give Jean-Claude a piece of that dream all right.

Be careful what you wish for.

When I called Jean-Claude the next night, I planned to complain about the dream but that wasn’t what came out. “Why are you doing this to me?” I was appalled at the level of need in my voice.

He chuckled but there was a warm edge of anger in it that I understood. This was supposed to be punishment. “Tell me what you want, ma petite,” he said.

I gave in. “Please, Jean-Claude, I’m sorry I can’t see you right now. But I do miss you. I do want you.” Tears clogged my throat and I fought not to release them. Even though I blamed most of my tears on hormones, it was still a weakness I resented. I hated that I was begging Jean-Claude to have mental sex with me.

Micah continued to be supportive, but I knew he thought I was crazy. I had two more weeks before I was past the first trimester. My decision not to tell Jean-Claude was having unintended physical consequences on me. The longer I went without telling him, the surer I was that he would end things between us, insofar as you can end things with your human servant. But I couldn’t face his anger. I was uptight all the time.

RPIT had called me in on a few cases. I came in, made the identification and left. Zebrowski was concerned enough to call me. I think he was afraid that I was burning out like Dolph had. I didn’t want to tell him I already had.

I went to sleep that night snuggled against Micah with Nathaniel snuggled into me. It felt right and I slowly relaxed. I didn’t realize I was dreaming until I saw Jean-Claude. He was dressed in skin-tight black pants with black boots that laced up the back. His shirt was the color of blood when it first hits the air. It was sheer and I could see his nipples. I reached out my hands to touch. I hadn’t even looked at myself. My own gown was diaphanous and the same color as his shirt. As I reached him, the gown flowed around his legs. He met my lips in a kiss so hot I felt the heat all the way to my soul. I put my arms around him and let myself enjoy it.

The dreams increased in intensity over the next few days. They had gone way past NC-17 and straight into XXX territory. I was waking, trembling, drenched in my own arousal. Sometimes Micah was there, but usually I woke alone. At first the dreams were just Jean-Claude and me but that had changed last night. Asher joined the dream. It was as electrifying as it had been the first time. And left my body just as weak. I actually touched my neck to see if I was bleeding. I was afraid to go to sleep.

Erotic didn’t describe the next dream. Jean-Claude claimed me in every way he could. He and Asher both did things to my body that we had never discussed, that I had never imagined. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but want. I came to myself with Micah poised between my legs. “Anita, forgive me,” he said and plunged deep, no preliminaries, something he never, ever, did. I screamed as he brought me with that single thrust, my back bowing on the bed and my nails raking down his back, piercing the skin, drawing blood. Micah came in that single thrust as well. He collapsed on me, panting. I could smell our arousal, sweet and musky, and it made me writhe beneath him.

“I’m sorry, Anita,” Micah whispered. “I couldn’t help myself.” His eyes were kitty-cat eyes and their inhuman beauty mesmerized me. He rolled us so that we were side by side. “Did I hurt you?”

My body no longer pulsed with unrestrained pleasure and I could feel it again, the aches and bruises that may have been from Micah or perhaps from the dream. I wasn’t sure what was real anymore.

“No, I mean, I don’t think so. What happened?”

Micah raised an eyebrow at me. “Tonight or this week?”

Now I was confused. I was starting to come back to myself. ”What are you talking about?”

“Haven’t you wondered why Nathaniel hasn’t been sleeping with us? Why he hasn’t even come home the last two nights?” Micah was running his fingers through my hair and he smoothed it back from face so that he could see me.

I guess I hadn’t wondered. I was too busy getting through each day and each night. In truth, the last week was a blur, afterimages of my dreams imprinting themselves so completely that all I could think of was how badly I wanted Jean-Claude in the flesh. And it wasn’t the ardeur that needed him so completely. It was me.

“Nathaniel shifted two nights ago,” Micah said.

My eyes went wide. “What do you mean? Where?”

Micah looked at me with an _expression that I had never seen before. A combination of embarrassment and defensiveness. Finally he sighed in resignation. “You know that on the night of the full moon, when we have to shift, that we hunt.”

“Sure. I had asked Richard once and he said he always wanted meat after the change.”

“Well, after we hunt, we usually mate.”

I wasn’t expecting that and pushed at him. He grabbed my wrists and held them. “No, not me. Certainly not anymore. But the younger ones. They almost can’t help it. The women are in,” he paused and it was clear he was trying to come up with an inoffensive way to tell me something I wouldn’t like. “The hell with it. The women are in heat. They want sex and they want it in cat or human form.”

I relaxed against his hold. “So what does this have to do with me?”

“You may not be one of us in body, but you are one in spirit and your spirit was desperate for satisfaction. You were thrashing and moaning and whimpering and the scent of your arousal was almost overwhelming, even to me. Nathaniel was on top of you before I could even react. He had gone so far as to mount you when I knocked him off the bed. It wasn’t just that he was about to have intercourse with you. It was that he had already lost control of his beast. He shifted immediately. You were still lost to the dream.

“Frankly, it wasn’t altogether different from what happened to me just now except that I didn’t shift. I just knew I had to have you or die trying. Whatever the hell he’s doing to you is damned effective.”

I didn’t know what to say about any of it. It frightened me a little. “How’s Nathaniel?” I asked.

“He cried. He was so ashamed of himself. I told him that it had nothing to do with him but he didn’t believe me. He decided that unless you needed to feed, he’d be better off sleeping elsewhere. I would have told him the same thing.”

“Oh, God, I’m sorry,” I said. This was one of those unintended consequences that always reached out to bite me in the ass. I closed my eyes. “I’ll go over to the Circus and tell Jean-Claude tomorrow night.” I bit my lip. “You were right. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone but my good intentions never seem to work out the way I plan.” I didn’t mean to sound so dejected but the thought of telling Jean-Claude terrified me. I was so sure that he’d hate the idea. That he’d hate me.

“Anita, I don’t understand why you’re so afraid to tell him. He loves you.”

But I wasn’t really listening. In fact, I wanted to take a shower and maybe even change the sheets. Good sex is supposed to be messy but this was ridiculous. By the time we were done and curled up into one another, it didn’t seem worth it to go to sleep, but my body had other needs.

Chapter 4

I had gone up against real monsters, things that wanted me dead, hell, real humans who wanted me dead and I don’t remember ever feeling this scared. It was so bad I threw up twice at work. I told everyone I had a stomach bug. They all backed away very pleasantly. It was a smart move on their part. I did my best to interview the clients who came in but frankly I wouldn’t recognize any of them again. I hoped they filled out the information sheets completely or else I would accidentally raise the wrong corpse. Maybe I could pass them off to Larry.

My raisings were all legal issues and insurance claims and all the corpses were newly dead. I could do these with a few pricks of blood. Oh, I made a show of it. It wouldn’t do to make it look too easy. Bert gave me more raisings than any other animator. If he knew just how easy it had become, I’d never get any sleep. But at least I didn’t have to think. Not about the job anyway.

It was only a little after midnight when I finished up. Early for me. I made a few calls to locate Jean-Claude. It was too late at night to wander the Blood Quarter in the hopes that I would get lucky. Willy told me he was at Guilty Pleasures. I got a decent parking space. I could hear the thrum of the music before I even opened the doors. The bouncer knew me and I bypassed the line. There was still a line of people eager to see the main attraction. Living with some of those attractions, I could understand why.

The lobby was decked out in holiday spirit with mistletoe in strategic places and snowflake ornaments in traditional white and blood red hanging from every available ceiling tile. There was even a tree, fully ornamented, though no crosses of course, with unwrapped toys under its boughs. No one could accuse the JC Corporation of shirking its civic responsibilities. These toys were all being collected for the poor and underprivileged children of St. Louis. I hoped at least a few would go to the orphans of shifter attacks, but I don’t make the rules.

It occurred to me that I hadn’t given Christmas a whole lot of thought this year. I couldn’t even remember if we had a tree. I had to remedy that if Micah hadn’t already taken care of it. I knew the pard hadn’t had many Christmases and I didn’t want my problems to overshadow what could be a very happy time. I hoped there would still be time for Fed-ex to deliver gifts because it looked like a real catalog-shopping year for me. I never knew what to get anyone. This year would be no different. But I could worry about it in the morning. Assuming I lived that long. My stomach was doing flip-flops and all I was doing was delaying the inevitable.

The holy check item girl ignored me. She knew I wasn’t giving up my cross and Jean-Claude had finally told her that it was okay. I headed to his office. The corridor was dimly lit by candle sconces but I could see paper snowflakes pasted everywhere. Jean-Claude must really be in the holiday spirit. Too bad I was about to ruin it. I swallowed against the rising nausea. I stopped in front of his office door. I could hear noises from within, typing mostly. I knocked and opened the door without waiting for a response. I had only seconds to drink in the sight of him. He was a woman’s wet dream come to life from his flawless alabaster skin to the thick curls that cascaded down his back. I could only see him from the waist up. A black waistcoat covered one of his frilled white shirts. A blood-red garnet peeked out of those frills, catching the light.

Jean-Claude looked up as I stepped over the threshold. His eyes flicked to me and then back to the computer screen. “Anita,” he said, his voice flat but with that warm edge of anger I had come to know well. “I don’t have time for you this evening. I’m sorry. Perhaps another night?” he said, dismissing me without ever giving me his attention.

If he had been watching, he would have seen all the blood drain from my upper body. I was light-headed enough that I had trouble backing out the door. He knew about the pregnancy. It was the only explanation I could think of. He only called me Anita when he was angry. I would have thought he would have given me a hearing but maybe he didn’t think it was necessary.

I closed the door behind me and attempted to go back the way I came but my legs wouldn’t hold me. I fell against the wall and slid to my knees. I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs to take a deep breath. I had tried to prepare myself for this but the reality was so much harsher. My body was crying for his but I had other men who could satisfy my body. It was my soul that was crying out just as loudly. I hated debating the whole soul thing but something animated vampires and if it wasn’t a traditional soul, who was I to say it wasn’t a soul at all? I could almost feel something inside me tear raggedly.

“Anita?” I heard my name through the incessant pounding of my heart. “Anita, are you all right?” Willy had come up behind me.

“I’m fine. I just dropped something,” I said, my voice a distant echo. I was amazed I was capable of coming up with a coherent sentence. But I must have satisfied Willy because he continued down the hallway.

I stayed on my hands and knees for a few more minutes, but I knew I couldn’t stay there. I got to my feet staggering like a drunkard. I decided to leave by the back entrance. It was too early for the stripper junkies to be waiting for their favorites. I kept reminding myself to breath. I made it to my car before tears cascaded down my cheeks. Perhaps if I hadn’t been pregnant I would have reacted with anger. But then, if I weren’t pregnant, none of this would be happening. I sat in the car sobbing as if my heart would break. I thought it had. I knew, I hoped, that tomorrow I’d be pissed at Jean-Claude for not giving me a chance to defend myself. And Jason. Oh, God, what had he done to Jason? I hadn’t looked on stage to see if he was there. Shifters can take a lot of damage. A lot of them even like pain. But at 400-plus years old Jean-Claude could make pain seem eternal. It wasn’t even Jason’s fault. I knew I should go back and check but I also knew that I couldn’t. Not tonight.

I got the tears under control about the same time I noticed my teeth were chattering. I hadn’t turned on the engine and the December cold had seeped into the car and under my skin. I wasn’t sure what to do next. I couldn’t go home. Not yet. The Circus was closed to me now. My heart ached when I thought about it. I needed Micah but I loved Jean-Claude. A headache had blossomed behind my eyes. Obviously now was not the right time to deal with the ramifications of what had just happened.

I started the car and began driving. The quarter moon wasn’t bright enough to see by which gave me an idea. The lupanar would be almost preternaturally quiet. There wouldn’t be any werewolves hanging out at this time of the month. It was late and all good little werewolves, if they had had to shift, were sleeping it off in their nice comfy beds. I grabbed the survival blanket I had begun carrying after Musette’s visit and headed over to the throne rock. I wrapped the blanket around me and curled up on the ground. It was cold but so was I.

Now that it was safe to cry, I had no more tears left. Numbness crept through my body and my mind. I thought I was grateful. I wasn’t sure how long I stared up at the heavens, its cloudless sky alive with stars, but eventually I slept.

I woke at first light. While I had closed down my shields against both Richard and Jean-Claude, I still felt the dawn. If I opened the marks I could feel his pain. As it was, I had plenty of my own. I was groggy and uncomfortably stiff. It took me two tries to stand up and even then, I staggered. The survival blanket kept me from freezing but I wasn’t warm. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was strictly emotional or whether the fact that my hair brushing against my ears caused needles of pain to shoot down my jaw indicated a more physical reaction.

There were not a lot of cars on the road, something for which I was grateful since my arms weren’t operating smoothly. I attempted to straddle the middle line in the hopes of staying on the road. I parked the car in the driveway, left the engine running and just rested. The heater blasted hot air but I didn’t feel it, not even a little bit.

I couldn’t remember ever feeling this empty, at least not since I was eight. This wasn’t the place I went when I killed. I used to think that place was empty but by comparison, that place was a party. I turned off the engine and sleepwalked to the front door. The smell of coffee hit me as soon as I got inside. Micah was sitting in living room nursing a cup. He watched me with his kitty-cat eyes.

“You’re up early,” I whispered.

“You rarely stay at the Circus after dawn,” he said. That he never usually woke early for me went unsaid. “Why don’t you sit down,” he said. I hadn’t moved from the doorway. His voice was neutral and unthreatening.

“I wasn’t at the Circus,” I said. I still hadn’t moved but I noticed that my hands were shaking. Micah didn’t say anything. He just waited. “He knows, Micah. He called me Anita and told me he didn’t have time for me.” Shivers encompassed my entire body. “What am I going to do?” I whispered. I didn’t even feel Micah as he wrapped his arms around me.

I was on the couch, spooned against him, hot coffee being lifted to my lips. “Sip it. It’s decaf. But it’s also hot,” he said. The first sip burnt my tongue and I wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad because it meant that I wasn’t dead. He put the cup on the coffee table and turned me so that I faced him.

Micah was almost painfully warm against me. His heat burned into me. “He doesn’t know, Anita.”

I heard the words but they didn’t register. “I should hate him for this but I’d feel the same way if he betrayed me. I wouldn’t want to see him. I know I wouldn’t listen to him.” I wanted to bury myself in Micah’s body.

“Sweetheart, listen to me. He doesn’t know. I know he doesn’t know.” Something in his voice, perhaps the earnest tone, caught me.

“Why are you so sure?” I asked, desperately wanting to believe but also rather certain that I didn’t deserve this reprieve. I had betrayed Jean-Claude. It doesn’t matter that I had had his permission. It was the unintended consequences that put a whole different spin on things.

“Because there were two vampire murders last night. It was on the late news. If Zerbrowski didn’t call you, it was because your cell phone was off and because they were so obviously vampire kills. I am sure that Jean-Claude was the first vamp they talked to. Since he didn’t expect you, he probably thought you were there on official business. After the dream he sent you last night, he probably took it as an insult. Besides, Asher called to apologize on Jean-Claude’s behalf. I guess he heard about your visit.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That you were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you. Where were you last night?” he asked.

“Wait a minute, you knew I wasn’t at the Circus?”

“Yeah. Why do you think I was up?”

`

“But you said…” Now I was confused.

He laughed softly. “I made a statement which happens to be true even though it had no bearing on this particular event. You rarely stay at the Circus after dawn. I wanted to look for you but I didn’t want to alarm everyone. I also happen to know that you can take care of yourself.” It was the nicest thing anyone had said to me in ages.

“I went to the Lupanar,” I said.

I felt Micah sigh. “That explains why you’re so damned cold.”

“Did Asher say anything?” I asked, changing the subject back.

“Besides apologizing?”

“Micah!” I said, exasperated.

“Let’s go to bed. I know I could use some sleep.” He lifted me off the couch and brought me into our room. Nathaniel was curled up under the covers and looked lonely, even in sleep.

It didn’t take me long to change into a sleep shirt. Nathaniel curled into me as though he had been waiting for me. Maybe he had been. I felt warm and safe and loved and slipped into a genuinely relaxing sleep.

It didn’t last long. I hadn’t fed the ardeur with Jean-Claude, which meant that I hadn’t fed it at all last night. That wasn’t a huge problem in and of itself. I could store up feedings so that I didn’t panic about it. On the other hand, it was a capricious master at best. The hunger woke me. I had sunk my teeth into Nathaniel’s shoulder before I came awake enough to know what I was doing. He gasped, a mixture of pain and pleasure that aroused and incited.

Micah, like the smart kitty cat that he is, backed away from me as soon as he felt the prickles of power, but stayed close enough to intervene if he thought Nathaniel was in danger. Normally he would have left me to my “meal” such as it was, but we had left normal a long time ago.

I forced myself to swim through the need of hunger and really look at him. I whispered, “Are you sure?”

“Oh, God, yes. Please. I’ve missed you so much, Anita.” His voice was breathy with leashed desire.

I bit his other shoulder hard enough to draw blood. Not much, I just broke the skin, but I lapped at the wound. Nathaniel whimpered. I laughed, need pouring through me, pouring through us. I bit through the skin of his bicep. The muscle felt good against my teeth. He groaned.

I was all over him now, part sex play, part domination. I drew soft sounds, pleas and entreaties, from him with every touch. I could feel it building, the pressure, the power, the release. I crawled down the front of body. His chest and arms and thighs were a mass of teeth imprints. I broke the skin almost every time. His body trembled beneath mine. His cock was hard. I stroked it gently and it jumped in my hand. Nathaniel stifled a cry by biting his lip. My own heart was stuttering as I forced myself not to take him in my mouth. I could do that with sex play but this kind of hunger made teeth a bad combination with sensitive anatomy.

But I wanted more. My hands slipped to his scrotum. I rolled it around in my hand and squeezed lightly. He was begging now, writhing on the bed. His hands came off the bed, reaching for me.

Micah did something he never did. He grabbed Nathaniel’s hands and held them down with his knees. Hunger screamed through his gaze and his hands pinched and flicked Nathaniel’s nipples. Nathaniel arched off the bed as orgasm crashed through him, through me, through Micah with the force of a tidal wave. My vision ran in streamers of color. I didn’t remember collapsing but it was some time before I managed to disentangle myself from all the other naked limbs on the bed. Even then, all I accomplished was moving back into my spot on the bed. Once again both men wrapped themselves around me. I felt physically and emotionally sated and marveled at the feeling. I welcomed the darkness.

Chapter 5

I was alone in the dark when I woke up. The shower was calling my name and I grabbed a change of clothes and headed for the bathroom. Cooking smells wafted down the hallway and I could hear various members of the pard roughhousing and teasing each other. For just a moment, my life felt normal again. Or at least as normal as my life ever got these days.

By the time I made it to the kitchen, food was ready to eat and I was actually hungry. Micah must have cooked because it was a balanced meal. Spaghetti, meatballs, salad and garlic bread. I felt like I hadn’t eaten in days. Unfortunately, I thought that might be true. It took me at least three bites to notice everyone’s eyes on me. My fork dropped with a clink. “Okay, what’s going on?” I asked.

All eyes dropped back to their respective plates. I didn’t want to push it. For another five minutes the only sounds were happy eating noises. Nathaniel finally broke the silence. “Anita, we know something’s wrong. Why won’t you tell us what it is?” There was a subtle accusation in his voice. I had a split second of internal debate before deciding on a truthful evasion.

“You’re right. There is something going on.” I looked at each of my pard one by one, forcing their gazes to mine. “But I’m going to ask you to trust me. I can’t share it with you yet.”

Everyone nodded except Nathaniel. I wasn’t sure what to say. He looked hurt. “It’s not entirely my secret to share,” I said. He looked away from me. Now I was hurt and I’d be damned before I let him do that to me. I was his Nimir-Ra! I pushed away from the table and walked out the kitchen.

“Anita!” Nathaniel’s voice sounded behind me. I stopped but didn’t turn around. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Especially not after this morning.” I felt heat rush through my body and flush my cheeks. I still didn’t move. He was on the ground now, crawling toward me, submissive. He licked quickly across the back of my hand before rubbing his face against it. “But I’m scared.”

That stopped me. “Why?” I asked.

“Because you don’t do this. Oh, you protect us, but not from yourself. It’s been months.”

“Don’t you trust Micah?”

Nathaniel was still on his knees n front of me. “Of course I do. We all do. But he isn’t you.”

I pulled my hand away. “Please give me a little more time. That cannot be too much to ask,” I said and walked into the bedroom. I wasn’t being fair to him or to any of them. But until I told Jean-Claude and Jason, it wasn’t only my secret I was going to reveal. I couldn’t take the chance.

I wasn’t ready to face going to the Circus yet. The murders had made the paper along with the arrest and execution of the vampire responsible. It wasn’t one of Jean-Claude’s. Surprisingly, the vamp was one of Malcolm’s. That didn’t happen very often. At least Jean-Claude should be in a more positive frame of mind. I talked it over with Micah and we agreed that he would take me to the Circus the following evening. Maybe it was cowardice that wanted me to put if off for another day. But I needed to regroup. I had been unusually emotional this last month and fighting it had taken a toll.

I spent the day Christmas shopping. Zane had convinced me to move into the 21^st century so I finally had a state-of-the-art computer set-up. Everyone had wisely decided to hang out elsewhere which meant I could shop to my heart’s content. A good thing since I had no idea what I wanted to get anyone. I decided on spa gift certificates for Cherry and Zane. Nathaniel got gift certificates for music, Merle and the rest of Micah’s pard got gift certificates for clothes. I kept moving down my list. I was saving Micah, Jean-Claude, Asher and Richard for last.

What do you get the men who have everything? Richard was actually the easiest. While we may have been on barely civil terms, I still knew him. There was a new compilation of Rogers and Hammerstein on CD as well as a new biography of the composing team. Plus I saw some great caving gear at the local outdoorsman store.

Why was I getting something for Richard? I couldn’t help it. He was one third of our triumvirate. I wanted him whole and healed as much as I wanted the same for Asher. I couldn’t catalog-shop for either Vampire. Their gifts had to be completely unique. But at least it wouldn’t mean going to the mall either. Not this time of year. I would worry about them later.

Micah was also a stumbling block. I still didn’t know him very well. It had only been six months. I still didn’t even know how I felt about him. I mean, I didn’t want it to be love. How can I be in love with all these men? But if it wasn’t love, than maybe I didn’t know what love felt like.

Most of our casual clothes were communal but I bought him some sweaters that were decidedly masculine. Not that he needed help in that arena. Micah may have looked delicate but only until he moved.

When I had finished, I went for a run and the workout felt good. Dinner was on the table by the time I showered and dressed. Micah and I even went out to the movies. We held hands like teenagers. I made it all the way until noon the next day before nerves put butterflies in my stomach. I couldn’t sit still and had a near burning desire to start shooting something. As usual, Micah had me pegged. He was very careful not to touch me or provoke me in any way. But by three, the tension was making me crazy.

Half of my clothes were strewn across the bed as I tried on outfit after outfit. If he was going to dump me, I wanted to look good. Cherry came in to assess my attire. My red lacy camisole showed significant cleavage. The black jacket was sheer at the arms but had opaque panels so I could still wear the Browning. The pants were black and filmy and had a stretch waistband. I hadn’t gained much weight but it was enough that skin-tight was out for the foreseeable future. I felt weird. Not because I didn’t dress up for Jean-Claude but because it mattered so much that I did.

We worked on my makeup for a few minutes. I looked in the mirror and didn’t feel like me, but I had felt disembodied all day, not like I was floating above myself but more like I was watching a movie and no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t change the part where the heroine drove over a cliff.

Micah had stopped reassuring me that it was going to be all right. It was only making me more uptight. He focused on reminding me that he wasn’t going to leave me, no matter what happened. That he wouldn’t leave the Circus without me. It said a lot for our relationship that I let him drive. I was too nauseated to talk but he kept his hand clasped over mine. It was the only warmth in my body.

The last time I was this nervous at the Circus was my first time at the Circus. I hadn’t trembled as much then I was doing now. I let us in and we made our way down to Jean-Claude’s chambers. His bedroom door was closed. For all I knew he wasn’t even there. I almost couldn’t bring myself to knock on his door. Micah went to do it for me. I stopped him. If I could bear to crawl down into the oubliette after Gregory, I could knock on my lover’s bedroom door. There wasn’t even a comparison.

The door opened before I had knocked the second time. “Ma petite,” Jean-Claude said,

“It’s good of you to drop by.” Shit. This was going to be harder than I thought.

“Jean-Claude-” I started.

“I must apologize for the other night. Murder investigations are always stressful. I wasn’t up to another interrogation. Why else would you grace me with your presence after over a month of near silence?” I could here the warm edge of anger in his so-smooth voice. The good news was that I was getting pissed.

“If you had bothered to ask, I would have told you that I wasn’t involved,” I said, not trying to defend myself.

“Anita, you can hardly blame me for jumping to conclusions. You are often the first to assume that I must be guilty of something.” My real name. This was not getting better.

“Fine. You want an apology? I’m sorry. Can we get past this crap or do you want me to leave?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay now anyway. That was the amazing thing about my relationship with Jean-Claude. I could go from wanting him desperately to wanting to put several states between us so I wouldn’t do anything drastic. If he wanted a fight, I could do that. I understood fighting. That was easier than what I had come to do.

“Why should tonight be different from any other night this past month? Leaving is always your solution when you can’t shoot up the room. You have no idea how you try my patience. I try to respect your wishes in all things but you have no such consideration for mine!” His eyes were drowning blue and my breath caught in my chest. It was worse because he was right. I hated when my needs hurt others, even when it was unintentional. Tonight would be full of those realizations.

“Good evening, Jean-Claude,” Micah said. The interruption was jarring, as he had intended it to be. Jean-Claude and I broke apart, just enough that I started breathing again on my own.

“Mon minet, I didn’t realize you were joining us this evening,” Jean-Claude said. That warm edge of anger was obvious now. But Micah didn’t flinch.

“I brought Anita here. I just wanted to remind her that I would here if she needs me,” Micah said, neutral but pleasant and yet it was clear that he had drawn a line in the sand.

He reached out to me and we touched, just our fingertips. It was enough. Warmth and pleasure flowed between us and I had momentary peace. Jean-Claude’s hand came up and clasped mine. The connection was broken. I mourned its loss.

Jean-Claude looked taken aback. He, too, saw the line but didn’t understand what he had done to provoke its creation. I suddenly understood that for all Micah’s optimism, he was no longer sure of Jean-Claude’s reaction.

The two men stared at each other, Micah unafraid of Jean-Claude’s ability to roll him, counting on Jean-Claude’s sense of decency. I could have told him that was a mistake. That Jean-Claude didn’t have a sense of decency. He liked to win. But he stayed on his best behavior and Micah eventually dropped his gaze without an appearance of having lost. I shook my head. Men! I gave Micah a quick kiss and he squeezed my hand. I felt the warmth all the way to my toes.

Jean-Claude pulled me gently away and said, “Please don’t leave, ma petite. Let us finish this discussion in comfort. Monsieur Callahan, you are free to stay or go but rest assured, she will not have need of you this night.”

Micah looked at me, waiting for acknowledgement. I nodded. I had to do this. Jean-Claude shut the door behind us. I could feel his emotions. Frustration and need poured from him in waves. He pulled me toward him and kissed me deeply.

I gripped his arms tightly and fell into the kiss. It felt so good to hold him. He was warm with someone else’s blood and I didn’t care. I wanted to forget the reason I was here. I wanted to make love with him before he knew the truth. I broke the kiss and buried my face in his shoulder.

The butterflies in my stomach suddenly took up synchronized diving. He put his hands on my shoulders and nuzzled my neck. “I’ve missed you, ma petite. Why did you stay away? Why did you allow me access to your dreams but to no other part of you?” I leaned into him for a moment before I remembered what I had to do.

I pushed away from him and walked as far from him as I could get and still remain in the bedroom. He started to follow me when I turned and held up a hand. “No, stay over there. Please,” I added. I started pacing.

“What is it, ma petite? What’s wrong?” Jean-Claude asked. “You are making me crazy!”

“I’m sorry,” I said. It wasn’t enough. I took my jacket off and removed the Browning and the holster. I didn’t want to have any unnecessary temptations. I felt Jean-Claude gaze hot upon my breasts. He made a move to come closer. I backed away. His hurt radiated to me and tears pricked at the back of my eyelids.

I drank him in for the first time. The outfit wasn’t a new one but it didn’t stop me from appreciating his body and the way the black leather molded itself to his form. A moan escaped me. He took another step toward me. “Please, ma petite. Come to me.” His voice slithered like silk along my spine. It took all my will power to resist the urge to throw myself in his arms. I wanted to do anything but what I had to do. A lone tear slipped down my cheek. I’d be damned if I’d be a coward, however. If he was going to hate me, it was better to get it over with now.

“I can’t come to you. Not until I tell you,” I broke off.

“Tell me what, ma petite?” he encouraged.

“I’m pregnant,” I said and watched him blink. Twice. He didn’t say anything. He just kept looking at me. “Jean-Claude?”

He shook his head as if to clear it. “Ma petite, I thought you just said you were pregnant,” he said, certain that he must have misunderstood. I could understand that thought.

“I did.”

Jean-Claude still stared at me. Okay, he stared at my stomach.

“Mon Dieu, but how? You are using birth control pills. Besides, I thought Monsieur Callahan had taken care of that,” Jean-Claude said. I couldn’t detect anything in his voice beyond shock.

“It’s not Micah’s,” I said.

“Ma petite, I am over four hundred years old. I cannot possibly be the father,” he said. I couldn’t tell if he was happy about that or not because he was still staring at my stomach.

“No, you aren’t-“ I started.

“It cannot be our Richard’s,” he said, beginning to speculate. “I would know if you had been with him again.”

“No! It’s not Richard’s. God, stop guessing. I’ll tell you who the father is. But you have to promise that there won’t be any retribution of any kind.”

“What do you mean, ma petite?” The warm edge of anger was there suddenly. It was all sinking in just like I thought it would.

“I mean that it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t have any choice. You have to promise that you won’t get angry. I won’t see him punished because of me, because I didn’t give him a choice. You have to promise!” I was crying now, my voice had a slightly hysterical bent.

Jean-Claude came over and took me in his arms. “It’s all right, ma petite. I promise.” He stroked my hair until I had stopped sniffling.

“Jason,” I said, my voice muffled against his shoulder. I wasn’t sure he heard me, though vampires have extraordinary hearing, until he stiffened.

“Jason?” he asked, holding me away from him so that he could see my face.

“Jason is the father of my child,” I said but I couldn’t look at him while I said it.

“My pomme de sang? My Jason fathered your child?” he asked.

I only nodded still staring at the floor. “It was when Musette was here and Belle was pouring the ardeur over me. Nathaniel had passed out at the club. I couldn’t take the chance-” I was babbling and the damn tears had started flowing again. Jean-Claude stopped me with a kiss. It definitely took my mind off things.

“But you are taking birth control,” Jean-Claude said.

“That was the morning after my night with you and Asher,” I flushed just saying the words out loud. “I was so sick. And then we were at the banquet and there just wasn’t time-”

Jean Claude stopped me with another kiss. “Does Jason know?”

I shook my head against his chest. “I had to tell you first,” I said. “I haven’t told anyone but Micah and only because he knew. I think Cherry knows and probably Nathaniel, but they are waiting for me to say something.”

Jean-Claude rocked me for a few minutes before sliding down my body to his knees. He raised the camisole up and pressed kisses against my stomach. I felt the first flutterings of desire tighten things low in my body. “Open for me, ma petite,” he said and I knew he meant the marks. My shields dropped away. He began speaking in French and his voice touched things inside of me that his body never could. I gasped at the sensation, like silk and feathers, only they tickled from the inside. I gripped his shoulders. Then he was holding me again while I shook in a reaction I didn’t understand.

“Shh, ma petite, all is well.” He caressed my hair. “Have you thought of a name for her yet?” he asked.

“Her?” I asked.

“Oui, ma petite, you are expecting a little girl. Micah didn’t tell you?”

I looked at him, confused. “A girl?” I repeated. I sounded like a parrot.

“Oui, ma petite. You knew it had to be either a boy or a girl?” he asked but I wasn’t paying attention. I was having a girl. I didn’t know what to do with girls. The few times I had ever envisioned children they were boys. Jean-Claude tilted my chin up and kissed me again. “I have called Jason,” he said. I went very still.

Chapter 6

There was a knock on the door before it opened. Jason burst in with a prickling rush of lycanthrope energy. I couldn’t decide if he was dressed for work or a night of clubbing. He was wearing skintight leather pants dyed a glittering gold. His top was fishnet in the same glittering color. He looked, well, like Jason. Young, carefree. And why not. It wasn’t as though he had a lot to worry about. He stripped and served as breakfast food. Not a tough life. I was about to shatter it.

“Jean-Claude, you needed something?” he asked and looking around, spotted me. “Oh, Anita, I didn’t realize you were here. Love the top,” he said and, looking down, “Love the bottoms too.” He smiled his Jason smile, full of deliberate mischief. I resisted the urge to tell him to go away. For just a moment it felt normal. He got a couple of brownie points for making me forget without even trying.

“Come in, my wolf. Sit down.” Jean-Claude waved him to a seat. For the first time I saw Jason hesitate.

“Did I do something wrong?” Jason asked.

“No, my wolf,” Jean-Claude said. Then he turned to me. “I’ll be in the other room,” he said. He gave me a kiss and walked out.

I hadn’t thought about telling Jason. I hated to say it, hated even to think it, but he was kind of incidental to the process. I wasn’t dating Jason. I wasn’t even sleeping with Jason, figuratively or literally. Yet a single act had already changed my life and was about to change his.

“Anita?” Jason asked. “What’s going on?” He hadn’t sat down.

“Sit down, Jason,” I said.

“I think maybe I should stand,” he said.

“Please?” That surprised him. He sat. There was no easy or graceful way to tell him this. I didn’t have the same kamikaze butterflies in my stomach that I had before telling Jean-Claude. Instead, it just hurt.

“I’m pregnant,” I said.

A grin split his face and I could see his body visibly relax. “Anita, that’s great! That’s wonderful! A baby. Wow!” Then the wheels began to turn. Why was I telling him this? Without Jean-Claude in the room. The moment it hit him all the color drained out of his face. He dropped to the floor and crawled over to me using those muscles that humans aren’t supposed to have. It was an extremely submissive gesture. He huddled at my feet, shaking. “Oh, God, Anita. I am sorry, I am so sorry. I never meant for this to happen.” There were tears in his voice.

I sighed. “It’s not your fault, Jason.”

He stopped brushing against my legs. “But you just implied…” His voice trailed off. He tried again. “I thought you were telling me that I fathered your child.”

Because Jason dropped out of college to become a stripper and occasional snack, I had the tendency to forget how smart he really was. He also did his best to hide it behind the wisecracking façade. “As far as I can tell,” I paused. I couldn’t look at him and say it out loud so I studied the silk drapes around the bed. They were the same midnight blue as Jean-Claude’s eyes. “As far as I can tell, you are the father. We can do a paternity test later on to be positive. But it isn’t your fault. It’s not like I gave you a lot of choice.”

Jason moved away from me, though he remained on his knees. He listened to me and started to laugh. “Anita, maybe you don’t remember that day but I certainly do. In detail. Very graphic detail. Every second. I most definitely wanted to be there.”

I blushed so hard my face hurt with the rush. “That doesn’t mean you had a choice. Even if you didn’t want to sleep with me, you would have done it because I am dominant to you. That is coercion.”

“Of course I had a choice. You never would have touched me if you didn’t think I was willing.”

“I couldn’t feed on Nathaniel,” I reminded him.

“And if I had said no you would have torn yourself to bloody ribbons instead. I know you, Anita,” he said.

“Do you?” I asked.

“Better and better all the time,” he said. “How far along are you?” But as soon as he asked it, he put his hand up to forestall me. “Wait a minute, if I’m the father that means you’re over three months along. You had to know before now. You’ve always been regular,” he said.

“How the hell do you know that?” I said, affronted.

“Anita, I’m a werewolf. I can smell the blood,” he said, clearly considering it a stupid question. Meanwhile the blush in my cheeks had intensified to fever-intensity. That was something I just didn’t want to know. That meant that Micah and Jean-Claude and... No. Better not to go there. Ever.

“You’re right. I just finished my first trimester.”

“Is everything healthy? What does the doctor say? Have you had an ultrasound? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” The barrage of questions, and the fact that he probably wasn’t going to like my answers, made me sit down. Jason wasn’t nearly as irresponsible as he pretended to be.

“I haven’t been to a doctor,” I mumbled.

“Why not?” he asked. He moved to sit next to me but, though he clearly wanted to, purposely didn’t touch me.

“Because that would make it real and there was a chance it would all take care of itself,” I said. It sounded stupid now that I said it out loud.

Jason shook his head sadly. “I thought you were stronger than that,” he said.

I pushed him away from me and stood up. “How dare you judge me? Maybe denial wasn’t the most effective approach but I didn’t want to watch my whole life fall apart in one fell swoop. Until a few minutes ago, the only people who knew were Micah and Dr. Lillian. Not only that, but I didn’t want to ruin your life as well. I mean, I’m not expecting you to make child support payments, but knowing that you have a daughter has to change some things for you,” I spat out.

“A daughter? You’re having a girl?” Jason asked, not trying to hide the awe.

“Jean-Claude told me.”

“I’m sorry I jumped down your throat. I wasn’t judging you. You usually rush to meet problems. It isn’t like you to try to hide.”

I know he didn’t mean to set me off but he did anyway. “I am not hiding!” I practically screamed it at him.

“Fine,” he said and held up is hands in surrender. “When are you planning on telling Richard?” he asked. It wasn’t exactly a safer subject.

Oh, God, Richard. I’d been avoiding even thinking about Richard the last few months. Christmas gifts didn’t count. He wouldn’t take this well. Even if he could handle my pregnancy, he wouldn’t be able to tolerate Jason being the father. No way. It would be signing Jason’s warrant of execution. Over my dead body. Damn, I wanted to go back to the whole secrecy thing. I might have lost friends over it, but they’d end up alive.

“I will tell Richard only when he asks. Not before. Whatever you do, don’t you be the one to tell him! He’ll kill you.”

“I am well aware of that. I wasn’t planning on telling him, but he is going to hear about it and he will ask me what I know. I can’t lie to him,” he said. Jason’s face was unusually serious.

I was pacing now. He had a good point. It put him between a rock and a hard place. I was afraid that Richard really would kill him. Richard and I may not be dating but he’d be more than pissed about Jason. Shit. He couldn’t handle seeing Jason touch me during Musette’s visit and that was barely sexual. I would bet money that he doesn’t know I’d really been with Jason. “If he asks who the father is, tell him you don’t know,” I said.

“Anita, he’s my Ulfric. He’ll smell that I’m lying.”

“Fine. But start there. Then when he calls you on it, look uncomfortable and tell him that I don’t know. He’ll believe that. He already thinks I’m a slut,” I said.

Jason look disconcerted and opened his mouth to refute my statement. I held up my hand. “Don’t. Just let it go. I’ve had to.” He closed his mouth for a moment.

“What about Jean-Claude?” Jason asked. Serving two masters must often put him in a difficult spot. Especially when one was constantly at the other’s throat.

“What about Jean-Claude?” I replied.

“We know that Richard will damage me when he finds out. I’m guessing that Jean-Claude already knows. Am I going to have to leave town for my own safety?” He said it with a smile but it was clear that he wasn’t entirely joking.

“No. I made Jean-Claude promise that he wouldn’t hold this against you before I told him,” I said. Jean-Claude had promised but I wasn’t certain if I could hold him to it. I couldn’t tell from our earlier conversation how he really felt. But I wouldn’t let him hurt Jason, not for this.

“Thanks, Anita,” he said and walked over to me. He put his arms around me.

“Anita, I know you don’t think I’m responsible for this, but I would like to be a part of it. There’s a good chance I’ll never have kids of my own. I mean, what normal will want to marry a shapeshifter? And any shapeshifter tied to the moon can’t have kids. This may be my only opportunity.”

I remembered the first time I was with Jason after I had inherited the ardeur. When I could see into his heart. His open desire for me, just for me, not for any hidden reason. I realized I could still see into his heart and that he wanted this child in the same way. He didn’t mean for this to happen but it did and he would step up to the plate willingly. Maybe I had misjudged them all.

“Sure, Jason. You can participate however you want. I already promised Micah that I would make an appointment with a doctor this week. I’ll let you know when it is. But, Jason, Micah…,” I trailed off.

He released me and stepped back so that he could grin at me, that grin that will see him a goodly way into Heaven before someone realizes they made a mistake. “Hey, I know Micah is going to the public ‘father”. I mean, he’s your Nimir-Raj. But I want to be involved. God,” he said. “Pregnant. I cannot believe it. Can I touch?” he asked. I nodded. He put his hand on my stomach. I wasn’t really showing yet unless you knew. Then you could feel the changes, the gentle roundness of my belly.

He left his hand on my stomach and kissed me very, very gently. “Thanks, Anita,” he said and walked out of the room. I thought I saw the silver of tears on his cheek but I didn’t call him back.

Chapter 7

Jean-Claude came in through the open door, looked at me and whatever he saw there caused him to take me into his arms and press me close. I began to tremble in reaction. He just held me and murmured softly in French. I even understood some of what he said. I hadn't realized I was cold until Jean-Claude's stolen warmth seeped into me. Muscles began to loosen. The worst was over. I hoped.

Jean-Claude had closed the door behind him and when he thought I was warm enough, he released me to run the bath. When he returned he began undressing us both. I hadn’t moved from where he left me and I stood passively under his hands. But when I was naked in front of him and he just stood and stared, I felt a blush rise. "You are so beautiful, ma petite," he told me. I shook my head but in his arms, I did feel beautiful. He brushed his fingers over my nipples. It was the barest of touches but I gasped as they tightened. "So much more responsive," he whispered and I felt things tighten low in my body. He leaned his head to take one of my nipples in his mouth but at the touch of his tongue I literally swooned in his arms. Next thing I knew he was lowering me into the steamy water.

He bathed me tenderly. I felt boneless, weightless and nearly mindless. Not with pleasure, but with nothingness. I had told Jean-Claude my secret and he hadn’t thrown me out but there was still a tension between us that frightened me. I wanted to channel that fear into anger, anger was one of my best things, but I couldn’t work up that much emotion. I think Jean-Claude understood because he didn’t make any demands on me, even his touch was comforting rather than arousing. We didn’t speak but the silence didn’t bother me.

When the water grew cool, he lifted me out, dried me off and began to rub my skin with fragrant lotion he had pulled from somewhere. He paid particular attention to my stomach, smoothing the lotion with steady strokes. I held onto his shoulders and bit my lip to stop the tears. I should have been over the hormone fluctuations by now. But the littlest thing still brought me to tears. I hated it. They made me feel weak. When he was through, he put on a pair of black silk pajama bottoms. I was further surprised when he nudged my arms up so that he could dress me in a diaphanous piece of black silk that aroused me merely by its touch. I gasped. My skin had become so much more sensitive lately.

He lifted me up in his arms again and his skin was heated against me. We were both tucked up in bed, I was resting my head on his chest, hugging him close to me, my thigh curled over one of his legs, my arm around his stomach, before he spoke to me. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. I tried to detect emotion in his tone but he was a master at neutral.

I debated what to say, whether to tell him the truth or not. My lips were resting not too far from his nipple and I snaked my tongue out to flick at it. I was hoping to distract him but he flipped us over, “Non, ma petite, not tonight,” he said. My eyes widened and the pit in my stomach that had finally begun to close down, opened wide again.

“You don’t want me?” I squeaked. God, I hated being this needy. It went against everything I had tried to be. But I never thought that he might not want me because I was pregnant. I mean I thought he might break up with me but not that he wouldn’t want me.

“Oh, ma petite, I always want you,” he said and kissed me. The kiss quickly intensified in depth and I was panting when he finally released my lips. He licked his own and my heart skipped a beat. “But I think tonight I would just like to hold you. Tomorrow night I can show you just how much I’ve missed you. But tonight I want you to sleep in my arms and know that you are safe.”

I couldn’t stop the single tear that spilled down my cheek. I had rejected his love so often and he had pursued me anyway. He wiped the tear away with he thumb and laid a gentle kiss where it had been. “Je t’aime, ma petite,” he said and rolled us back again so that I was protected in the curve of his arm.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier, ma petite?” he asked again. I still didn’t want to answer. He tilted my chin up so that I would meet his gaze. I looked away but I gave in.

“Micah knew I was pregnant before I did. He sensed it when we had sex. I thought you would be able to tell as well. I thought this might have crossed your line.” I was barely whispering now but I knew his vampiric hearing would catch it all. “I knew that you said that Jason was an acceptable partner but I didn’t think that included getting me pregnant. I wasn’t ready to lose you. Not when so many first time pregnancies end in natural miscarriages. I wanted to wait until I was sure,”

“Ma petite, there is nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you or stop wanting you. This complicates our lives but we will manage.” He laid his palm on my stomach and closed his eyes, a small smile played about his lips.

I realized in that moment that he was happy about this. Shocked of course, but happy. “You want this baby,” I said, surprised.

“Oui, ma petite. I never thought to have children. It wasn’t an option when I was still human and certainly not when I was made vampire. But watching you grow round with child, flush with that new life, will be a greater pleasure than I could have dreamed.” The marks between us flared and I gasped with sensation. “Speaking of dreams, did you enjoy yours?” he asked, and his voice sent shivers of pleasure up and down my spine. I wriggled and pressed against him.

“Yes,” I said on a gasp. My hand went wandering and he stopped it with his own. “Do you want to do those things with me?” I asked, remembering what he and Asher had done with their hands, their mouths, their bodies. My breath caught in my throat.

“Oh, yes, ma petite, very much. I have waited a long time for you to be willing. I have no wish to frighten you but there are things I have not done, things that I very much wish you to experience.” His hands were stroking me now, but not to arouse me. It was a comforting touch and my body moved away from the edge of need. “Tomorrow night we may begin but tonight, I thought another dream might be in order. Sleep in my arms, ma petite, and accept the pleasure.” He reinforced his request with his voice and I felt myself drifting.

When I opened my eyes, I was still wrapped around Jean-Claude. He looked at me, his eyes drowning midnight. My heart stuttered at the desire in his. Was it tomorrow already? When he bent his head to capture my lips, I lifted my head to meet him. His lips were like warm velvet. I opened my mouth against the pressure and his tongue swept in, silky and sensuous. I wanted more and we had hardly begun.

I was still wearing the nightgown he had put on me but as I stroked down his back to his firm buttocks, I realized he was naked. I wriggled closer to him as though I could melt into his body. It had been too long since I had felt him against me, inside me. My b