XXX
I think the best part of Grissom's townhouse is the master bath. Well, aside from Grissom himself of course.
I mean he's got every kitchen gadget known to man, and a great bed, but his master bath rocks. Big time.
He says that it's a luxury a CSI deserves. He'd come home after a hard day at work so often smelling of decomp or a garbage dumpster that he had the master bath and guest bath turned into one super master bath. It's got a big ass jetted tub and a shower big enough for two, with a bench to sit on. It's got a heated tile floor and lots of shelves to set candles on. Of course the candles are something that I added. That and a dark blue wall. And some bath oils and shower gels. He had some pretty nice towels, but we needed to get some dark blue ones to match the wall.
Anyway, that's why I'm soaking in the tub. The jetted tub. With the jets going. And the candles lit. I spent my shift at the dump.
It's probably a good thing I spent my shift at the dump because Grissom came back from Williams on an earlier flight than expected and showed up at the lab. And I tell you he looked so damn good that if I didn't smell so bad I would've plastered myself up against him and kissed him senseless. In front of Hodges and everyone.
He's been gone for a month and I missed him. I mean, I really missed him.
We've been a couple for nearly two years now. I didn't expect to miss him this much. In fact I was pissed at him when he left. Then he didn't even write me a letter. I wanted to be mad at him when he got home. But, damn him, I get hot just looking at the man.
I'd always thought he'd be a good lover. For years I thought he'd be a good lover. I'd watch his hands when he handled delicate evidence and think about them touching me. And when he sets his mind to doing something he does it right, with such concentration. I wanted him to concentrate on me.
I had no idea how good a lover he'd be though.
So when he showed up at the lab today all thoughts of making him grovel flew right out of my head, to be replaced immediately with thoughts of getting him into bed. Just one look at those blue eyes and those soft lips. And he'd regrown his beard too. Which played havoc with the skin on my neck but felt oh so good when his head was between my thighs. Christ but he makes me hot.
And he knew it. He'd told me on our very first date that he could actually smell me when I was hot for him. Which only made it worse after that. And of course he knew that too. I'd look at him after working close together for hours at a scene and he'd take a deep breath and smirk at me. I got so hot for him today as he followed my down the hall with those eyes, and those lips, and that beard that he could probably smell me over the damn eau de city dump.
So here I am, with the candles lit, and the bath oil swirling, hoping he gets home in time to wash my back. Damn I love him.
Fin
XXX