Rating: PG-13
Category: PWP
Spoiler: Butterflied
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not mine. Not mine.
Feedback: Yay or nay. Here or here (schizofreeky@yahoo.com). Appreciated muchly. (",)
Round Two
Catherine's searing gaze never waivered as her eyes
remained fastened on Grissom's face, patiently waiting for him to finish off
his peanut butter. In that same unsanitary fashion he appeared to prefer. Not
that she's complaining.
The look on his face while he sucked his finger clean did not escape her.
"Let's go back to the bedroom."
A tired sigh escaped Catherine's lips as she followed his lead back to the
bedroom. Rolling her eyes and arching her eyebrow as she did so.
**********
A freshly scrubbed Grissom stepped out of the bathroom, a fluffy white towel
clinging precariously to his hips. Droplets of water rained on the carpet as he
went about the task of toweling his hair dry.
"Hey Cath?" He
mumbled, eyes still trained on the ground, unaware of
the presence cloaked in the shadows that was drinking in the sight of him with
catlike precision.
He stiffened in surprise when he saw the clothes that were lying mere inches
from where he stood. Seemingly discarded yet strategically scattered. It left a
trail that ended at the foot of the bed.
Gil's hands stilled at the sight that sent heat shooting down to the tips of
his toes. He felt a familiar ache that pooled at the pit of his stomach and
pulled at his gutstrings. He shuddered at the
sensation.
She wore nothing but skin. And that wicked smile of hers that she wears just as
naturally as the first.
Catherine peered at him through hooded lids, taking a renewed interest as the
moonlight caught the predatory glint of his eyes. His twin blue orbs visibly darkening
by the second.
"What.. so soon?" The veiled challenge in her lilting voice a red flag to the
simmering bull before her.
His lips twitched in response. Not the only part of him that was twitching
right now.
"Got silk?" He but all growled through the lump in his throat. His
voice was nearly incoherent.
"Why, yes I do…" Catherine drawled out, still lightly caressing the
silky sheet that lay beneath her.
The deep burgundy set off the creamy paleness of her lithe form. The oily sheen
of her skin and the moon glow that bathed her lent an ethereal mist of
eroticism that was hard to miss. Her low and jaunty tone a
whispered caress in its own.
Two towels promptly fell with a soft thud as Gil quickly closed the distance
between him and Catherine's waiting bed.