anita_blake | (no subject)

(no subject)

Anita gets into the Jeep, eyes on Animator's, Inc., and she lets out a long breath. The conversations with Damian and Demeter have been swirling around in her head for a couple of days now, and she knows they're both right. She pulls her cellphone out of her jacket and dials Richard's number. It's well past six in the evening, and she crosses her fingers that Richard didn't have a date tonight as the phone rings.

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Richard shakes his head, expression serious.

"No. They are. No proxies."

There's a pause before, "Jason said all of them."

Now Anita knows her heart stops.

She looks away from Richard. It's quite obvious that, no, she hadn't been told.

"How soon?" she asks, voice husky.

"Not sure. Jason hasn't been through it yet, it's his and Liz's future." He wasn't given a time on this.

His hand squeezes hers, "Anita?" He wants to know what she's thinking without actually poking through the marks.

Anita turns her attention to him and lets out a long breath.

"This isn't going to be pretty... or safe."

"No, it's not." He sounds unhappily sure of that.

"Dealing with the proxy wasn't pretty or safe. And we aren't dealing with one this time." The power Belle wielded with her proxy in town and her in Europe had been surprising. And this was the council members themselves. In the flesh. His face doesn't show it, but the marks give away just not much he really doesn't like the idea of it.

Anita holds Richard's gaze.

"If they're coming, then we have to be a united front."

It was even more reason for her to sort things out with Asher and Nathaniel.

"I know."

There's an echo of Moon's words on ties keeping people sane that plays at the edge of the marks as the memory shifts through Richard's mind. Her frightened had a lasting impression on him.

"I don't like the them coming part, but I know." It's the one of the reasons he's been working a little more on his issues and working on being alright with who he is and who he's tied to.

Anita laces the fingers of her hand with his.

"If we could beat Belle Morte in Musette's body... we can beat Belle Morte herself."

He's not entirely sure of that. And it wasn't just Belle Morte, but the entire council. He doesn't argue with her though.

Richard raises their laced hands to lay a kiss to the back of her hand. "And with me not wallowing in misery, we'll be stronger. Right?"

Anita smiles.

"We'll be stronger when I apologize to Asher and Nathaniel and we all start preparing."

He stands and leans over her chair. "Not this moment though," he murmurs. His head dips to catch her mouth in a kiss.

Anita moans, tasting the spice of Richard's meal and him, her hand cupping his throat. It always amazes her how just his tone of voice and a kiss can make her ache for him.

"No," she whispers against his lips. "Not this moment."

She dives into a second kiss, passionate and deep.

Richard growls faintly into the kiss. Anita's taste, scent always drive Richard to want more, and the taste of chicken only causes him to deepen the kiss a little more.

His head raises ever so slowly, not to break the kiss but to lure her up and out of her chair.

And she follows him, rising up out of her chair, her lips fused to his. As soon as she's standing, Anita presses her body against his, nipping at his lip. Her hands stroke down his chest, his stomach, and then delve under the shirt. Anita shivers when her hands touch his bare skin, and her need to be naked against him becomes overwhelming.

His growl shifts to a soft groan at her hands on him. His hands slide down her back and pull her as close as he can have her and up, encouraging her to wrap her legs around him. They're alone here, so he's hoping him carrying her to the bedroom won't get too much growling.

"This is becoming a habit," she pants between kisses as she wraps her legs around him.

His moves towards the bedroom, hands supporting her easily. "Which part?" The carrying her, the sex, them getting along?

"All of it," she gasps against his throat, hearing the question along the marks. "All of it."

His head moves to nip at her throat, "I like the habit," is growled against her throat.

Anita tilts her head back, rubbing against him with a soft cry.

"So do I."

Habit has him kick the bedroom door shut behind them with a groan. One of his hands slide along her leg as he drops them onto the bed, keeping himself above her with one hand near her shoulder.

Anita can feel the heat of him, the strength above her.

"God, I love you," she blurts out, shocked by the intensity of the emotion that washes through her.

The feel of that emotion causes him to pull back and smile, his love her for answering it without thought, a feeling just as strong as hers. "I love you too, Anita," he murmurs.

His head dips to kiss her, starting it slow, showing that love. It won't stay that soft though, hunger and passion deepening it while his hand starts the task of removing her shirt.

Anita whimpers softly into that sweet kiss, squirming out of the shirt, her nipples hard against the fabric of her bra. Her hands pull at his shirt, nails scraping at his skin as the hunger creeps back into their kiss.

Richard growls softly at the feel of nails, pulling out of the kiss and up just long enough to remove his shirt. Returning to the kiss, he makes quick work of her bra and rolls them over. Makes it easier to pull her against him, run his hands up her back, if he doesn't have to support himself over her.