Delightful Dreams- Morgan is caught having sexual fantasies in her sleep about a certain co-worker. (Smut warning)
Morgan laid asleep on the break room couch, a serene smile crossing her face. Greg couldn't help but smile in return, watching her curled up and snuggled against the couch cushion. It was just so damn cute. Careful not to disturb her, he gently tiptoed over to the coffee maker to pour himself a cup.
"Hey Greg," Henry called out entering the break room, quickly quietening with a reprimanding look from Greg who pointed over to the couch. "Sorry," he lowered his voice as he walked closer to Greg, "I got the report back on the DNA of your suspect and-"
A soft sensual moan escaped Morgan's lips silencing Henry and drawing both men's attention to her sleeping form. She gave a small giggle and then moaned once more.
"What do you think that's about?" Greg asked Henry as they watched her, intrigued.
"Oh my God! Yes! Right there!" Morgan cried out, still dreaming.
Greg's jaw dropped as his eyes widened, staring at her. Henry smirked.
"I think she's having a sex dream," he whispered to Greg. Another loud moan came from Morgan, rougher and more passionate this time. Her body shifted, uncurling to lean back, arching slightly as if in the throes of ecstasy.
"Oh God! Greg!" she panted. Henry's mouth went agape as he turned to look at Greg. Stunned, Greg fumbled and dropped the mug from his hands. It crashed to the floor. At the sound of shattering glass, Morgan's eyes shot open.
She turned her head slowly catching both Henry and Greg in an awkward attempt to pretend they were not watching at her. Her face suddenly felt like it in was on fire, heat rushing to the surface.
"What? Was I snoring?" she asked, sitting up and brushing her blonde locks behind her shoulders.
Greg bend over to pick up the shards of his mug from the floor, avoiding her gaze. The corners of his mouth upturned in an uncontrollable grin.
"No, not exactly," he responded, still not looking at her.
Henry, however, stared at her. "Um… I should go," he stuttered as he moved to the door, stumbling on his way out, unable to tear his eyes away from Morgan.
Morgan watched him leave, confused and suddenly uncomfortable. She racked her brain. What had happened? Damn it! This was the third time this week she had woken up with her heart racing, desire and embarrassment mixing within her, and she still had no idea why. She couldn't remember anything from the time she drifted off to sleep until the moment she woke. What was causing her to feel this way? More importantly, what the hell was she doing in her sleep to cause such a reaction from her co-workers? She groaned. No more naps at work.
Greg was sopping up the remains of his coffee with a paper towel, tossing the remnants of his favorite mug away. He stood up, startled to find Morgan standing right in front of him, cocking an eyebrow.
"Okay, Sanders, what's going on?" She demanded to know crossing her arms and blocking him in.
He blushed as he shook his head. "Nice try, Brody, but I'll never tell. Let's go. We have an interview with our victim's therapist."
He brushed past her. His eyes lingered on hers, an expression in them she could quite read but made her feel tingly all the same. He walked out into the hall, glancing back at her, his whole face smiling bashfully. When he was out of view, Morgan finally exhaled a breath she just realized that she had been holding. What the hell was happening to her?
The red-headed woman sat dressed in a well tailored suit. She smiled, looking almost sinister, as Greg and Morgan entered the interrogation room. They sat across from her. Morgan opened the file, briefly scanning it.
"So, Dr. Kessler, Andrew Mason was a patient of yours?" she asked. The woman nodded, responding with an affirmative answer.
"What can you share with us about your interactions with Mr. Mason?" Greg continued. Dr. Kessler shifted her gaze between the two of them, the smile on her lips growing almost playful.
"I was counseling Mr. Mason on how to express his sexual desires. An area in which he struggled desperately." She watched Morgan's eyebrows raise. "I'm a sex therapist."
Morgan exchanged a brief uncomfortable glance with Greg. "I see,"she said, "and how exactly were you counseling him on this matter?"
"Ms. Brody, is there a reason why that might be pertinent?" Dr. Kessler asked, carefully observing the body language between the two CSIs. Greg kept letting his eyes drift in Morgan's direction, while Morgan seemed to tense every time Greg moved closer to her.
"Mr. Mason's body was found in a rather compromising position, one that could be related to a sexual act." Morgan laid out the crime scene photos for the doctor to examine. "Any information you could give us would be greatly appreciated."
The red-head's eyes met Morgan's. "Mr. Mason desired a woman he was close to. He had never told her of his feelings, fear getting in the way, but he came to me when his fantasies of her began to become uncontrollable. She invaded his dreams making it hard for him to rest or be around her for any length of time. He, however, was an incredibly shy man and needed help learning how express his desires without offending or scaring off his love interest. I was walking him through those steps." The doctor leaned over the table slightly, closer to Morgan. "If you are interested, I can do the same for you."
Morgan felt her face go flush and followed the doctor's gaze as it moved to Greg. His eyes were downcast, seeming to be studying the file, but his lips curled up in a smile, that despite his attempt to, he could not hide.
Morgan felt her heart beat faster. "Um…let's just stick to the case, shall we?" she said addressing the doctor.
After a few more questions, they concluded the interview. As Morgan and Greg rose to leave, Dr. Kessler gently rested a hand on Morgan's shoulder. Morgan turned to her.
"Sexual tension needs a release. The longer you let it build the more explosive it will become." Dr. Kessler motioned towards Greg, shooting her another tight-lipped smile. She handed Morgan her card. "I am available most weekdays."
Morgan watched her walk out the door, past Greg who furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he turned to Morgan.
"What was that about?" he asked. Morgan looked into his eyes, her mouth going dry.
"No idea," she said, brushing it off with a laugh.
Morgan hit the floor hard, waking up with a searing pain in her foot. She threw the crumpled comforter off of her and reached for her swelling appendage. Another dreamless night, or at least none that she could recall, followed again by the same sensations: fluttering heart, rapid breathing, and a feeling of guilty pleasure running through her. And now she probably had a broken bone to add to the list. She tried to stand, only to sink back to the same position on the floor, pain radiating up her whole leg. She gasped at the severe agony that soared through her.
Leaning back, she grabbed her phone from her night stand. Without thinking, she dialed, not considering until she hung up that there were plenty of other people she could have called. But for some reason, he was the first one to come to mind.
"Morgan?" She heard him enter the apartment using her spare key.
"In here!" she cried out, blinking back the tears as her discomfort worsen. The door to the bedroom swung open, Greg emerging behind it. He let out a low whistle as his eyes ran over her, growing wide. It was only then that it occurred to Morgan that she was still in her black silk nightgown which had slid up to her thigh in her struggle to move her foot, exposing her bright pink panties underneath. She made a quick grab for the discarded comforter, throwing it back over her as Greg raised his gaze to the ceiling.
He swallowed hard before speaking. He felt his arousal growing and tried to block the lewd thoughts from his mind. "Morgan, are you sure you don't want me to just call an ambulance?" he asked, concentrating on a spot on the wall but still seeing the image of Morgan splayed sensually on the floor every time he blinked.
"No, no way. Can you take me? Please?" she whispered, wincing as she moved to cover herself with the flimsy nightgown.
He sighed. "Sure." His voice was soft but restrained. He bend down and hooked his arms under hers. His scent floated around her causing goosebumps to prickle all over her. She closed her eyes, feeling his body pressed up against her as he lifted her up, his chin tickling the space between her neck and collarbone. He gently set her on the bed, carefully propping her injured foot up on a pillow.
"Greg…," she hedged as he moved to make her more comfortable.
"Hmm?" he mumbled, his eyes refusing to meet hers, his cheeks tinting red as his hand ran along her calf.
"I can't go to the hospital wearing this. Can you…um…help me get dressed?"
His eyes shot to hers, a wary look in them. "Morgan, I don't think that's a good idea." His voice grew deep and husky as he fought his desires. "Do you have a robe I can just help you…" He trailed off as she shook her head, biting her lip. He closed his eyes and heaved another sigh. "Okay, where are your clothes?"
She pointed to the dresser along the wall, instructing him where to look. He came back to her carrying shorts and a sweatshirt per her instructions.
"Turn around," she said twirling her finger in Greg's direction.
"Yes ma'am." He gave her a small salute and sheepish grin as he turned to face the wall. His breath caught as his gaze shifted down to his feet where Morgan flung her discarded nightgown. He closed his eyes and tried to think of something else, anything else, beside what was going on behind him.
"Okay, all done. You can turn around now." Greg looked over his shoulder, his body following, as he took her in. He didn't know how it was possible but she looked even sexier than before in her cut-off shorts and oversized gray UCLA sweatshirt.
"Let's get you to the doctor then." He lifted her up, bridal style, taking careful consideration of her injured foot, and walked out of the apartment to his car.
"Looks like a sprain, but a severe one. You will probably be on crutches for a few days and in the boot for a week or so." Morgan nodded listening to the doctor's orders. "Oh, and make sure you don't attempt to lift anything heavy or put too much weight on that foot for a while. Leave all that dangerous stuff to your boyfriend." He nodded at Greg who stiffened at his words and shot a glance Morgan's way. She gave a nervous laugh.
She finished up the paperwork and took her prescriptions. Greg helped her down off the examination table and onto her crutches.
They left the hospital and headed back to Morgan's place. The ride was quiet. Morgan reached over and squeezed Greg's hand that rested on the console between them.
"Thank you for taking care of me. You have no idea how much that means to me," she said, letting her thumb caress the back of his hand.
He glanced over at her. "Sure, Morgan. Any time. That's what boyfriends are for, right?" He said jokingly, hoping to get a laugh, but it came across awkwardly instead as the silence stifled them. He coughed and withdrew his hand from hers, placing it next to his other one on the steering wheel.
Morgan tried to rectify the situation. "Well, if you were a good boyfriend, you would tell me what happened in the break room yesterday," she teased.
Greg smirked. "Well maybe I like being bad."
Something about the way he said it brought a familiar image to her mind. She and Greg were in bed, but that couldn't be right. That had never happened. Why would she think of that unless she had dreamed it up? Suddenly the realization hit her.
"Oh my God!" She sunk lower in the car seat burying her face in her hands. "I had a sex dream, didn't I?"
Greg shifted in his seat keeping his eyes on the road, silently confirming her suspicions. Morgan hit him on the shoulder.
"Greg Sanders! How could you not tell me? Oh God! I can't even imagine what I did in front of you and Henry in my sleep. No wonder he was looking at me like that. I think I'll just die of embarrassment now."
Greg pulled into the parking lot and parked the car. He got out and walked over to Morgan's side, opening the door.
She wouldn't look at him, even as he brushed the stray hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.
"Morgan," his low whisper tickled her ear. "You know, I once heard that sexual tension needs a release or it can become explosive."
Morgan whipped her head toward him, staring into his mischievous dark brown eyes. "What did you have in mind?" she breathed.
Before she could say any more, he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. She cupped his face with her hands, pulling him closer.
He broke the kiss, grinning wildly. "Something dirty," he said answering her earlier question. She let out a small gasp as he picked her up out of the car and carried her into the apartment. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she rested her head on his shoulder. She let her lips graze right above the top of his t-shirt's collar where fabric met skin. She felt the groan bubble up inside him before he released it, quickening his pace to her bedroom.
Fantasy meshed with reality. He laid her back on the bed and gently climbed on top of her, planting another kiss on her soft lips. She ran her hands along the bottom edge of his shirt, and he helped her lifted it off. Her hands stroked his back, feeling the faint scars that covered him. Greg saw the questioning expression on her face.
"The lab exploded when I was a tech years ago. I kind of got the brunt of it," he hesitated, waiting for her reaction. She sat up on her elbows, sympathy clouding her eyes.
"Let me see," she said. Greg paused briefly, unsure, before turning around. She studied the scars, tracing each with her finger. She laid her lips against his back, kissing away the pain from so many years ago. Greg closed his eyes and embraced her touch until he couldn't take it any longer. He turned back to her, his mouth meeting hers with hungry desire.
His hands ran underneath her sweatshirt feeling the curves of her breasts. She exhaled sharply as he fondled her, teasing her with the slightest touch. Within minutes, her clothes were gone and Greg hovered over her, his bare thighs brushing against hers.
He leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. "Are you sure?" he asked. She nodded, arching up to kiss him. And then with one thrust he was everywhere, inside her, around her, consuming her heart and soul.
They rocked in unison, exploring the forbidden, their hands roaming each other. Morgan's breath hitched as she fell apart at the same time Greg stilled against her, trembling.
Morgan laughed softly into his shoulder. "I think that was definitely explosive. I like you as a bad boy, Greg."
He grinned and kissed her cheek. "How about as a boyfriend?" he asked.
"That too," she smiled playing with his hair.
"I hope it lived up to your dream." He rolled next to her, kissing the crevice of her neck.
"Definitely," she answered, feeling the same sensations she had when she had awoken hours earlier with the new feeling of satisfaction spreading through her as she leaned further into Greg's warm embrace. "I think this is even better."