Disclaimer: Not Mine.
A/N: Thanks to the wonderful women who beta'd this for me. It was a mess and they made it much better.
Propped up by a couple of pillows with the blankets pulled up to her waist, Sara was completely engrossed in the novel she was reading. She twirled a strand of hair absently around a finger. Grissom sat alternately looking through the newest edition of Entomology News and flipping channels. Nothing much was holding his attention except the long-legged beauty sharing his bed. Finally, abandoning all pretense, he dropped the magazine on the nightstand, turned off the television and extinguished his lamp.
Sliding across the mattress until he was resting on his side facing her, he propped his head on his hand and gave her a soulful look. "What are you reading?"
With a grin, Sara held up the book so he could see the cover. "Passion Flower." She waited a beat, never taking her eyes off the page. "Don't roll your eyes."
Grissom chuckled at how well she knew him. He had been surprised by a lot of things about Sara. But he had been most shocked by her love of what she called cheesy bodice-ripper romance novels. When he had teased her about the books she would bring home from the library she explained that they were her diversion. She saw too much murder and mayhem at work to read mysteries and she couldn't read to learn all the time. This was her way of escaping from the madness.
He lay there beside her, his foot nudging hers under the covers, watching her as she read. He could tell that his attention was beginning to make her self-conscious, but he didn't let up.
"Stop staring at me." She smiled, but didn't look at him.
Placing a kiss on her bare shoulder, he grinned. "Read to me?"
"What?" She turned her head and laughed when she saw his hopeful expression. "You don't even like this stuff."
"How do you know I don't like it?" he reasoned. "I've never tried it."
"I think you're just trying to distract me."
Placing another lingering kiss on her shoulder he managed to waggle his head back and forth. "No, I'm not. I really want you to read to me."
Sara held up the book again. "I'm almost done. You want me to start over?"
She could hear his grin. "No, dear. Just start wherever you are. I just want to hear your voice."
Mumbling, but knowing he could hear her, Sara said, "You just want to get in my pants."
"Sara," he whispered, "read to me."
A smile played over her mouth and she cleared her throat. In a voice a little huskier than normal she began…
He was breathing slowly, steadily. His thumb nudged her chin up so that he could look into her eyes. "You let me look at you," he said under his breath. "I've gone half mad remembering that, wondering how many other men have seen you that way."
"No one has," she replied quietly. She couldn't drag her eyes from his. She could feel his breath, taste the smokiness of it, smell the leather and tobacco smells of his big, hard body so close to hers. "Only you."
His chest rose heavily. "Only me?"
"I was career-minded," she said hesitantly. "I didn't want commitment, so I didn't get involved. Everett…"
"Wait, what's going on?" Grissom almost laughed when Sara turned to look at him. Sometimes she was so predictable. "When did she let him look at her?"
"Gilllll," she shook her head, "I told you I was almost done."
He ran a finger up and down her forearm from wrist to elbow. "I know. But now I'm confused." He could sense her softening. with his touch "Come on, Sara, humor me."
She had never been able to resist him and she wasn't about to start now. Patiently, she closed the book, keeping her finger between the pages to hold her place. She let her head drop back against the pillows. "Okay. It's an older man, younger woman thing."
"How old are they?" Grissom had a hard time containing his laughter when she clenched eyes closed.
"He's thirty-five and she's twenty-four." Her patience was wearing thin and it showed.
Grissom shrugged. "That's not much of a difference." Sara nailed him with a glare and he was sure that he could feel his testicles shriveling from the ice in her eyes.
"I'm going to pretend you never said that." She shifted away from him despite her words. "Anyway," she shook her head a little, as if shaking off his comment, "Jenny lost her job due to illness. Rett's brother hired her to work for him, but he was killed in an accident. Rett gives her the job anyway. So she moves to Texas to work."
"Ah, a classic. Boy meets girl. Boy entices girl to move to another state…" Before he stuck his foot in his mouth again, Grissom wisely let his voice trail off.
"Boy doesn't manage to mess things up and leave girl in limbo for years and years though." Sara turned her head away from him to hide her grin. "Rett seems to be a man who actually knows what he wants."
"I'm sorry, Sara." His words were full of regret.
"Gil, stop apologizing. I was just teasing." She used her free hand to touch his cheek, stroking her thumb over his cheekbone. "We're here and that's the important part." When he continued to give her a dejected look, she slid her thumb across his lower lip. "Seriously."
He captured her hand in his and placed a kiss on the palm. "Finish the story." Grissom slid his free hand just under the hem of her shirt, placing his palm flat on her abdomen, delighting in the contact.
Scanning his face one last time, she flipped the book open and her eyes skimmed over the page. "Where was I? Oh, yeah…"
"No. I don't want to fight." He took her hands and slid them up and down over the hard muscles of his chest. His breathing changed suddenly.
His free hand brought her body close against his. The other one slowly undid the two top buttons of her dress and moved inside to her throat, her shoulder, her collarbone. His mouth increased its ardent pressure as his fingers spread, and his breathing became suddenly ragged as he arched her body and found the soft rise of her breast with his whole hand.
She gasped and instinctively caught his wrist. But he lifted his mouth and looked into her eyes and slowly shook his head. "You're old enough to be taught this," he said quietly. "I know how delicate you are here," he breathed, brushing his fingers over the thin lace. "I'm going to be very gentle and you're going to enjoy what I do to you. I promise. Close your eyes, honey."
"She's a virgin?" Grissom didn't even try to hide his grin this time. Sara nodded and his grin widened into a smile. "This just gets better and better."
"What is it with men and virgins?" Sara was truly puzzled by the whole concept. She remembered what it was like to be inexperienced and fumbling around. She had no desire to ever go back there.
Grissom thought for a moment, determined to stay out of trouble this time. "For some men, I think it represents youth. Maybe they think they can recapture that time in their lives if the girl is young enough. Of course, that means we are basing virginity, or the lack there of, strictly on age."
"But this girl is twenty-four," Sara pointed out.
"It's possible they like the idea of being the first. Makes them feel powerful." Grissom shrugged.
"Is it really such a big deal?" She tried to sound flippant, but couldn't quite pull it off. "I never realized that taking someone's virginity was so important to a man."
"I said most men, Sara. Not me." His fingers stroked absently over her silken skin. "I, personally, think that giving up one's virginity implies many things aside from just the physical connection. There is trust and hope and love and desire; all uncharted territory for the person who has never had intercourse."
"I'm sorry I couldn't give you that." Sara's eyes flitted away from him, but he could sense her distress.
Gently, he traced his finger along the waistband of her panties. "But you did." Sara's head snapped around and she opened her mouth as he quickly cut her off. "You gave me all of those things. More than I could ever have hoped for. Virginity is more than a physical state of being."
Sara's eyes glistened. She leaned over, giving him a slow and sweet kiss, one with all her heart behind it. "I love you," she whispered against his lips before pulling away.
"I love you, too." He licked his lips and gave her a sexy smile. "Now…um…"
Sara placed another soft kiss on his upturned mouth, then found her place and cleared her throat.
His mouth found hers again, even as he stopped speaking. It moved tenderly on her trembling lips, nibbling, demanding, in a silence bursting with new sensations and promise.
She clung to his shirtfront, shocked to find that her legs were trembling against his, that her breath was coming quick enough to be audible. She tried to pull away, but his fingers slid quietly under her bra and found bare, vulnerable skin, and she moaned aloud.
Grissom's eyes were closed. His hand, which had been drawing random patterns on her abdomen, began to slide over her skin. He brushed his fingers up over her ribs, moving slowly and deliberately, paying no attention to her amused smirk. His hand came to rest with his warm, rough palm covering her breast. He heard the catch in her voice, but she kept reading, trying to ignore the way he used his palm to rub tiny circles over her nipple, raising it into a tight nub.
"You're distracting me, you know?" But Sara kept reading, not giving him a chance to reply.
Her nails bit into his chest. "Rett!" she gasped, on fire with hunger and frightened and embarrassed that he could see and feel her reaction to him.
"Shh," he whispered at her mouth, gentling her. "It's all right. It's all right to let me see. You're so sweet, Jenny Wren. Like a bright new penny without a single fingerprint but mine." His mouth touched her closed eyelids, her forehead. His fingers contracted gently, his palm feeling the exquisite tautening of her body as she clung to him and shuddered. "Yes, you like that, don't you? He breathed. His mouth brushed her eyelids again, her nose, her mouth. "Jenny, put your hand inside my shirt."
His voice was deep and low and tender. She obeyed him blindly, on fire with reckless hunger, needing to touch and taste and feel him. Her hands slid under his shirt and flattened on hair and warm muscle and he tautened.
Sara snickered, despite Grissom's teasing hand. "How many times can this woman use the word tauten in the same story?"
"Hmmmmmmmm?" Grissom's question vibrated through his chest. "Tauten?"
"Yeah. The word?" Sara giggled. "Are you even listening to me?"
"Of course I am." Indignation made his voice rise. "I don't know how many times she can use the word tauten. Why does it matter?"
"It doesn't really. It's just not a word I associate with sex, or foreplay." She turned to look at him, lowering her voice to a husky whisper, "How about you? Do I make you taut?"
Grissom's fingers tightened on her breast, squeezing the soft flesh gently. "No, love. You make me hard."
Sara's eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. What had started as a game was quickly becoming something far more interesting. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and she arched her back just a little, pushing against his hand. Slowly, Grissom's hand left her breast and she had to bite back a whimper of disappointment.
He stroked his fingers down along the flat plane of her stomach, feeling the muscles quiver under his touch. His hand dipped beneath the waist band of her panties and over the soft curls covering her sex. Her hips arched involuntarily toward his touch. Sara's eyes slammed closed when he parted her slick folds.
For just a moment, she concentrated on the feeling of his hand between her legs. Then Sara forced her eyes open and she continued to read.
"Does that…make you feel the way…I feel?" she whispered shakily, looking up at him.
"Is the story turning you on, Sara?" Grissom teased her with his voice as his fingers teased her sex, gliding back and forth over her swollen lips.
Sara didn't respond to his quiet words. But her thighs fell open, inviting him to touch her. Using the hand not holding the book, she reached inside his boxers and wrapped her fingers around the erection he had been grinding against her hip.
"Exactly," he whispered back. He moved his hand from her breast to her neck and pressed her face slowly against his bare chest.
She seemed to sense what he wanted. Her mouth touched him there tentatively, shyly, and he moaned. He smelled of faint cologne and tobacco, and she liked the way his hard muscles contracted where she touched them with her hands and her lips. He was all man. All man. And her world was suddenly narrowed to her senses, and Everett.
"Damn, Sara." Grissom's voice was a rough whisper, his words disjointed. "You're so wet. So hot, honey. Want you. Want to fuck you." He placed another kiss on her arm, nipping her with his teeth.
"Gillllll," Sara's voice carried a throb of need. "I'm trying to read."
He took her face in his hands and tilted it, bending to kiss her with a hungry ferocity that would have frightened her minutes before. But she went on tiptoe and linked her arms around his neck and gave him back the kiss, opening her mouth under his to incite further intimacy, shivering wildly when he accepted the invitation and his tongue went into the sweet darkness in a slow, hungry tasting.
Slowly, he slid a finger into her and she could no longer focus. The words blurred on the page. "Squeeze me harder, honey. I like it when you squeeze me." He leaned up and nipped at her earlobe and her fingers tightened around him. He thrust against her hand. "Ah, yesssssss. Just like that."
His thumb found her clit, aching and proud, and she dropped the book. When he dipped his head and sucked her nipple through the thin cotton of her shirt, she cried out and ground against his hand. Pulling back, he looked at her. Her eyes were heavy and her cheeks flushed. Her nipples were hard, one obscenely visible through the wet material.
"You are so sexy." He captured her mouth with his, forcing his tongue past her lips, devouring her.
Tearing her mouth from his, Sara gasped for breath. "God, Gil." Sara's voice trembled and, releasing him, she fumbled while pushing his boxers down around his thighs. Her hands reached for his erection and she ran her fingers along the shaft. "I want you in me."
He began to tug at her shirt and she pushed his hands away. "Leave it. Just the panties." Her breathing was rapid and her movements frantic.
He complied, working the thin fabric over her hips. They worked together to get the garment off. And then she was tugging at his shoulders, pulling him on top of her. He positioned himself, grabbing his cock and sliding the head along her slit until he was at her entrance. He eased just the tip in and stopped.
"Tell me, Sara." He watched her face, watched as she twists her hips. "Tell me you want me."
"I want you. Your cock." She all but sobbed. "In me."
Her words sent shock waves along his spine and it took all his control not to slam himself into her heat. His arms tremble from supporting his weight and his thighs and buttocks shook with the effort of holding himself in check. "Look at me. Watch me make you mine."
Her eyes fluttered open and she locked her gaze on his. "Now." The single word is a command.
Slowly, steadily, he pushed into her, watching her face the entire time. When he was buried to the hilt, he ran a finger over her cheek. "There. That's what I was talking about." Her face was an open book and her love for him was there for anyone to see. "That's what you give me, Sara. That's what makes every time just like a first time."
Sara tangled her fingers in his hair and drew him down for a kiss. He began to move, sliding in and out in smooth, steady strokes while Sara thrust up to meet him. She ran her hands up and down his back, loving the feel of his sweat slicked skin under her palms. She wrapped her legs around his hips, tilting her body up for him.
"You feel so good," she moaned. "Harder. Fuck me harder."
Grissom's face was buried in her hair, his breath harsh against her ear. "God, Sara," he ground out as his thrusts become harder and faster.
With one hand, Sara began to fondle her breasts, teasing her nipples through her shirt. The other hand moved down between their bodies, her slim fingers searching for her clit. Finding the nub, she began to rub in tiny circles, pushing her excitement to a fever pitch. She could feel the tingle of release beginning low in her belly, the heat radiating down her legs, curling her toes.
Grissom's movements were jerky. He rammed himself into her with all the finesse of a sixteen year old virgin. He was slamming into her, grunting with the force of his thrusts. Sara's body was tightening, every nerve and muscle tensing in anticipation. Everything was a blur, both of them reaching, straining for release.
"Oh. My. God." Her voice rose with each word, until she was screaming, her body convulsing around him. Her walls gripped him, massaging his cock as it pounded into her and he followed her over the edge, moaning out her name as he came.
Grissom collapsed on her and she wrapped herself around him, holding him until his softening cock slipped from her body.
Pushing against his shoulders, she tried to shift him off her. "Come on, sweetheart. Roll over."
Reluctantly, he rolled to his side and watched as she scampered into the bathroom. He listened to the water running and he could picture her routine. Slowly, he rose from the bed and headed into the bathroom knowing that the water would be warm and Sara would soon be done. Living with her had put to rest some of the mysteries surrounding women which had once intrigued him. But he wouldn't trade mystery for reality. He wouldn't change anything because every time with her felt like the first. Smiling, he said a prayer of thanks for second chances.