Category: Romance/angstyness...or is it angstiness? Know what? Neither of them are real words.
Archive: Please ask first I might say yes.
Disclaimer: I own the park, I created it in my head.
Author's Note: Ahh, my sociology term paper is due and much research needs to be done. Boo to functionalism and serial killers. Boo I say! Alas, thus is the life of a criminology major. In that spirit... or something, I encourage you all to review, tell me what you think, give me suggestions. I appreciate all the feedback I can get my greedy little hands on. Mahaha!
Thanks: Divad, LadyLupin, Billy4Me and Emily. Thank you so, so much. Reviews really do make my day, I kid you not. Ohhh, brainfear... I laughed heartily at your review, rock on biotch!
Summary: She reached out and traced random designs in the grainy surface, wiping them away when her arm had reached its extent, and starting over.
Grissom bit his top lip and fought to keep his eyes steady on hers. "There's not a fiber of my being that doesn't want to make love to you, right now." Sara stayed rooted to the spot, suddenly blown off course by his admission. She had felt his desire for her, seen it in his eyes, but to actually hear him say it... it rocked her.
"Well then..." She got out before his lips sealed themselves over hers in a manner that was more forceful than before.
He pulled away suddenly. "But, I can't have this be misinterpreted as a... as a fling Sara. This is, this would be..."
"It's all I've wanted from the beginning." She said to him before standing up and grabbing his hand. His eyes narrowed and confusion filtered into his face.
"Would you prefer the couch?" Her voice contained both uncertainty and humor as she waited for his answer. It took a moment for her words and their meaning to sink in. Sara grinned and ducked her head as she led him through the hall to her bedroom.
"One second." She told him when they reached the door, and she disappeared back down the hall. Where, Grissom didn't know. He stood there in her bedroom surveying his surroundings. Her bed looked incredibly comfortable, the type of bed that one longed to come home to after a long day of work. Her drapes were wispy, but dark, as were the walls. Her furniture was of dark wood, possibly mahogany, but he couldn't be sure, and he wasn't about to make a detailed inspection of her bedroom before he made a detailed inspection of her.
She returned a moment later and cautiously moved in front of him. For a moment she wasn't sure if she could meet his eyes but did, excited by what she saw there.
They stood there for a moment in the dim light of her bedroom. The sun was beginning to rise over the city, filtering peach colored light in through the blinds.
Sara stood in front of him looking up into his eyes. She was unsure where to begin, so she reached down and grasped the hem of her shirt. His hands reached out and stilled hers, bewilderment cloudy her dark eyes. Grissom nearly laughed, bent down and kissed her quickly. "Let me do that honey."
And she beamed at him, reached up with soft hands and clasped his face between them. She kissed him slowly and deeply and he allowed his arms to snake around her waist, balancing her counterbalance. Sara deftly maneuvered the backwards to the bed seating herself down on the edge, letting her arms fall slack, allowing her eager body to relax.
Grissom trailed a finger over her cheek and felt her tremble. He smiled and sighed and reached down and pulled her shirt over her head. He watched as a blush crept slowly over her chest. He allowed his gaze to linger on her simple mango colored bra, the only extravagance on it a bit of lace. Simple.
Simple but sexy.
Feeling much bolder, he moved closer to her, bent down and pushed her to the mattress with insistent lips. He spread himself out beside her, splaying her hand over her ribs. Almost imperceptibly she gasped, licked her lips and blinked a few times. For a moment she wondered if she should pinch herself just to be extra sure that he was real.
His elbow supported him when he moved over to kiss her, lips moving almost of their own volition. The sun raised higher, its orange light casting her skin in a deep, eerie glow.
Sara's fingers shot out quickly and settled on the buttons of his dress shirt. Lips paused over hers for a moment, allowing a moment for her lips to turn up. He felt her smile and smiled as well, then kissing her hard, successfully wiping the smirk from her face as she finished with the buttons of his shirt.
Sara's hands slowly pushed the shirt from his shoulders and he sat up to shrug it off. It was then that he realized that he hadn't undone the wrist buttons and stopped.
"What?" She queried.
He turned his body so that she could see the predicament that he was in. Her lips plunged down in a mock frown and then she laughed loudly, reaching out to help him before stopping herself. An evil look passed over her face and she leaned back on both palms.
"Sara, this would go a lot faster if..." He trailed off, his voice dying in mock frustration.
"But just imagine all the things I could do to you..." She trailed off as well, having difficulty with the inside out nature of his shirt. She cursed under her breath but finally slipped the button through the hole. Grissom quickly threw his shirt off and launched himself at her.
He nuzzled her neck and breathed deeply, smelling her scent, mixed with dirt. He moved back. Grissom stood over her and looked down. "One second." He said and walked slowly through her bedroom door until her found the bathroom.
Once there, he turned on the light and looked around at his surroundings. The tiles were dark blue, soothing like the dark red tones in her living room. He felt comfortable, set a bit at ease by the blue. He briefly scanned over her toiletries, her shampoos, the forensic journals on the back of her toilet. Grissom smiled and shook his head, locating a washcloth and saturating it with warm water.
He walked back into the room, finding Sara turned on her side, the covers pulled up over her. Her eyebrow shot up as he walked back into her room, rid of his shirt, hair out of control. Sara's stomach fluttered at the picture before her: the man she loved, partially naked in her room.
In her room... not her bed.
"And you left... why?" She asked him, as he came to sit next to her on the bed. He tilted his head, amused at her impatience.
"You taste like dirt." He said bluntly, lifting up the cloth. He swept it gently over her neck, the air cooling her skin and tickling as it dried. He brought it down to her cleavage and wiped there and then passed over the skin of his cheeks. Finished, he placed the cloth on the bedside table and leaned back down next to her in the warm bed.
She squealed in delight as he pinned her to the mattress. His lips mapped over the freckled skin of her neck, setting her heart racing at an even more erratic pace than it had been before.
Butterfly kisses were scattered over her collarbone, and she gasped, arching up into him, both voluntarily and involuntarily. He surged down into her.
His hand smoothed over her stomach and her muscles spasmed, tense and relaxed and she released an intensely shaky breath.
"We doin' okay?" He asked, pausing in his ministrations to check on her. He stared down into her face, surprised to see how flushed she was, how her lips glistened and hung open. How dark her eyes had become. He detected many emotions there, one in particular that his too held. And emotion that he couldn't voice.
"I, I can't get enough of your eyes." She whispered, tightening the hands that had been clutching his back. Grissom sighed slowly, took his hand from her stomach and ran it through her hair.
"Sara, Sara, Sara..." He began teasingly but quickly became serious. "How did I ever do without this?" She smiled a tiny ghost of a smile.
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