A/N: Thank you for reading; a special thank you to those who review!
A Few Days in April
Chapter 4
Making love to her husband always brought a heightened sense of awareness to Sara. Every cell in her body responded to his touch. At one time she had abandoned hope of ever experiencing the power of passion Gil Grissom gave her, but now the energy of life swirled through her like a great storm.
Raising her fingers to thread into his hair, she pressed her lips to his; his mouth closed over hers, searing and hungry. The events of the day seemed to fade as passion pulsed between them.
Grissom stretched alongside her, half covering her, and closed one hand over the curve of her breast. As his thumb circled her nipple, Sara could feel the small callous that had developed near his knuckle graze against her tender skin.
Leaning over, he kissed her slowly and began an unhurried exploration of the woman he knew so well. His warm palm moved along her belly, her hip, her thigh, stroking her gently until every muscle and nerve pulsated with desire.
Sara's hand slid down his back, swept over his hip and found the heavy, rigid length of his erection.
"Lightly," Grissom murmured as her fingers wrapped around him.
Sara stifled a giggle.
"Don't laugh. I can feel you laughing."
"I'm not laughing—I'm smiling. I'm always—always delighted to find so much of you."
He laughed before he nuzzled his lips across her right nipple at the same time he stroked her again, deeply within her folds in such a way that Sara could no longer think coherently and her giggle turned into a moan of desire. His thumb caressed and circled; his finger gently probed.
Sara knew she was about to fly into the heart of a passionate storm as his fingers swirled and his lips returned to hers. Her hips lifted and in a flash, Grissom moved on top of her.
An indescribable rush of exhilaration and excitement flooded through Grissom, as it always did when he made love to his wife. Sara was more than his wife, he thought; she was part of him and the certainty, the desire that was his was willingly met with an intoxicating heat in her eyes. Love making was slow and deliberate, savored with a sense of rightness.
And, even now, years after he had admitted his love, he literally ached for her. When he could no longer bear his need, he entered her, slowly, deeply, setting free a dual storm of passion.
Exquisite pleasure unleashed thunderous waves of emotion as Sara was engulfed in her climax. She opened her eyes. Her husband was watching her with such intensity that she could see bright flashes in his eyes.
"Sara." He spoke her name in loving amazement.
The muscles of his back tensed, his arms tightened around her as he thrust deeply inside her. And then his climax was upon him, eliciting a second, gentler wave of pleasure within her. Together, they fell into the flashing, rippling currents of a passionate whirlpool.
For a while, they drifted between satisfied awareness and a peaceful twilight before sleep, keeping their bodies together, occasionally whispering words of love, always touching.
"Would you like ice cream?" Grissom asked.
Sara's soft giggle answered. "No, keeping you here is much better than ice cream." She snuggled even closer. "We need pajamas."
With five young children in the house, she had learned one always put on clothing after sex.
Even though Monday was a school holiday celebrating a local historical event, the Grissom children did not sleep late. Within minutes of hearing someone up, Sara was out of bed. She tucked covers over her sleeping husband, who groaned, mumbled, and pulled a pillow over his head.
By the time milk and cereal was poured into four bowls, Grissom arrived in the kitchen carrying Will.
"Dry?" Sara asked.
"Clean and dry. He needs to find his way to the kitchen instead of our bed!"
On seeing his mother, Will caused a string of reactions causing a familiar chaos—the baby reached for Sara, Grissom reached for his coffee cup, Bizzy scooted to the bench where her sisters were, and Eli pushed her bowl of cereal toward her. Coffee splashed as Grissom turned; milk spilled as the bowl moved. Ava and Annie shouted warnings that sounded like dual sirens. Will was happy to give his mother several damp kisses.
Sara wiped spills, poured more milk, added yogurt and fruit to the table before placing Will in his highchair and sitting beside him.
Grissom peeled a banana. "We need a bigger table." He cut the banana in half, giving pieces to Eli and Bizzy, and reached for another.
Sara smiled, saying, "I like our table. It's just right," as she reached across the table and spooned yogurt into Annie's empty bowl. She knew the day would come when they would need another table but this one kept everyone within her reach.
Eli and Bizzy, excited to have another day to play, were making plans involving toy trucks and moving dirt in the area by the outside play set.
A person unfamiliar with the world of small children would have seen confusion and commotion in the normal routine of getting dressed, of finding shoes, of locating a favorite toy, but it was the usual everyday pattern in the Grissom household. The parents worked efficiently; they had worked together so long that at times they functioned like a single unit, linked by the ability to mind-read. Sara did not have to ask for a shoe; it was held out, waiting for her to take it.
The day was sunny and warm in the way of an early spring day—a promise of more to come in a gentle breeze than blew through open windows. Bizzy had found old shorts to wear; Eli had tugged on a pair of jeans that stopped several inches above his ankles. Sara smiled at their rag-a-muffin appearance and kept quiet as the two children made extensive plans for whatever project they were planning. She knew she would have to remind them to eat.
Ava and Annie, so unlike their sister, were very particular about their clothing; Sara was learning to make her life easier by buying two of everything but in different colors for the twins. Their hair was another constant challenge—and even her husband had learned to use a comb and brush, barrettes and clips. Her fingers worked through tangles as she braided Ava's silky curls.
"I want a ponytail," Annie announced.
"Okey-doke," Sara answered, laughing as she turned to the child she worried about the most. Brushing long blonde curls, easily pulling most of the hair into her palm, Sara had a ponytail fashioned in a few seconds—definitely, she was better at ponytails than braids.
Grissom kissed each daughter as the girls danced around his legs and then he leaned over and kissed Sara. Four children giggled.
The morning progressed with the arrival of Lilly, the housekeeper, who brought her daughter with her. The young teenager was a favorite babysitter and, as she watched the children, Lilly, who came several days of the week, cleaned the house while Sara started on the pile of laundry that seemed to grow like mushrooms in her home.
At noon, Lilly and her daughter left, leaving the Grissom family to an hour or so of quiet; the younger children would take naps while Bizzy and Eli continued to play uninterrupted under the shade of a tree near the house. After getting Will down for a nap, Grissom had gone to his bee hives where he could easily spend several hours.
Sara was on the porch reading to a wide-awake Ava and a sleepy Annie when a dark-colored car pulled into the driveway. It was so quiet, Sara heard the crunch of gravel before the car came into view. A line of trees and a natural berm separated the house and yard from the paved road; Grissom had worked for a year to curve the driveway's approach to the house. And it worked to provide privacy as well as protection.
Hearing an automobile, Bizzy and Eli stopped their play and, once the vehicle eased to a stop, the two children ran to the porch, not in fear but in curiosity of the unknown.
"Who are they, Mom?" Eli asked as Sara stood.
The dog had gotten up and walked to Sara; gently, she placed a hand on Hank's head.
Immediately, Sara knew the vehicle was a government-issued car—the basic, unadorned appearance had not changed in years. She remained in the shade of the porch, watching two people inside the car as they talked to each other.
"Eli, run and get your dad. I'm sure they have come to see him."
The young boy hesitated a few seconds before he bounced from the porch and ran around the house.
A man got out of the car, straightening his dark coat and smoothing his pants before reaching into the car for an envelope. The driver's door opened and, as Sara watched, a woman, similarly dressed in a feminine version of a dark suit, stepped out of the vehicle. As the woman walked around the front of the car, Sara stared.
Something familiar, something registered as recognizable in the woman's appearance. Sara squinted; familiarity niggled through her brain. The woman was wearing dark glasses that covered a good portion of her face—fashionable, expensive—not the kind Sara wore. The woman hesitated, and then, she lifted her face to the sun.
The way she turned her face, the uplift of her chin; recognition was almost reached when Annie made a sleepy cry. Sara turned to lift her from the swing. Ava's arm curled around Sara's leg.
"Who are they, Mom?" Bizzy whispered the same question her brother had asked.
The man was a few feet from the porch when he saw Sara standing in the shade, partly concealed by the thick vines growing across the front.
"Hello!" He said as he reached inside his coat. A moment later a gold-colored badge, glinting brightly in the sun, appeared in his palm. "I'm looking for Dr. Gil Grissom."
The woman had stopped at the same time, removing her sunglasses, and reaching into a pocket for a similar badge.
Sara gasped. Her hand went to her mouth as recognition materialized.
The name came on a breath and then Sara repeated it. "Paula!"
A/N: If you don't know Paula, read the first or second story in this series! And, again, thank you. We appreciate your support!