Author's Note: This chapter is the reason this fic is rated "T" as opposed to "K+/K." This is as close to racy as this story is going to get, and it's still strictly PG-13 (i.e., very tame). Hope you enjoy. :-)
Chapter 9 - Togetherness
To refer to the first time Eric made love to Calleigh as "epic," would be to make the understatement of the decade. He remembers every minute detail of the eventful period before, during and after that unforgettable initial encounter in high-def detail so vivid that it had previously been reserved only to his favorite ESPN-HD sporting events. After hemming-and-hawing for a while following the Doug Benson case, Eric had finally mustered up the guts to profess his feelings to his fetching partner. True, she'd been in the hospital and unconscious due to smoke inhalation, and he hadn't exactly uttered an all-out declaration of love. Rather, he'd spoken the words that had been in his heart when he'd sat beside her bed, contemplating her beautiful, serene form as she'd hovered precariously between life and death: That he couldn't imagine living his life without her. By fortunate happenstance, she'd heard his confession even in her comatose state, and thankfully, it had been enough. Since that time, they hadn't formally discussed the status of their relationship, but they'd both understood that it had changed from friendship into something much more.
How they'd managed to keep their hands off each other during the ensuing few weeks had been a miracle in itself. It certainly hadn't been for lack of desire on either of their parts. But Calleigh had been released from the hospital with strict instructions to avoid any cardiovascular activity, vigorous exercise or - ahem - "excitement" that could over-tax her healing lungs. So that had ruled out pretty much everything of a remotely sensual nature for what had seemed like eons. And by the time her doctors had cleared her for cardio, Eric had already been embroiled neck-deep in his immigration fiasco. The fledgling couple's first chance to enjoy each other intimately had had to wait until Eric's biological father had grown a conscience and helped his son avoid deportation to Cuba.
Eric would never forget the moment he emerged from the ICE Detention Center to see Calleigh waiting for him with open arms. After days of confinement and panic about his future, laying eyes on her was like experiencing sunshine and fresh air and love and energy and all the good things in life, wrapped up into one stunning, welcoming gift. So anxious was he to enfold himself in her warm embrace that his legs instinctively broke into a jog as he made his way to her. He eagerly reciprocated when her arms snaked avidly around his torso and pulled him into an affectionate hug, and he was suddenly struck by how perfectly her petite, curvy body fit against his much larger frame, as if she were tailor-made just for him. Truth be told, they fit together seamlessly on so many levels that it was almost spooky, but infinitely gratifying.
"You missed out!" she jubilantly announced as she greeted him. When they separated from their hug, she gave him one of her signature smiles, the ones that could light up a room while simultaneously making him weak in the knees. "I was gonna marry you but your dad stepped in," she explained, her voice full of flirtation.
It was clear from her tone that she was just kidding around now that his immigration debacle was over, but Eric nonetheless delighted in the fact that she cared enough about him to consider taking such a major step to keep him on U.S. soil, and close to her. The gesture meant more to him than he could ever express. Not wanting to break the cheerful mood, he answered his radiant other-half with some witty repartee of his own, wisecracking that he might have found "somebody special" while he'd been locked up.
"Hey, why don't I take you back to my place and I'll make you a traditional American dinner, since you're new to our country," she quipped. To Eric, the very idea sounded like heaven. In all honesty, it wouldn't have mattered what was on the menu, as long as he was in her company.
But then he remembered that his life was still very much at risk because of Sharova's links to the Russian mob. Eric would've done anything to avoid putting Calleigh in harm's way, even if it required them to spend less time together. As agonizing as that would be, it would only be a short-term measure until the immediate danger had passed, and it would be well worth it if it meant that she'd be safe.
"Sounds good ... but danger has been following me everywhere I go ..." he cautioned. Before the words had even left his mouth, he knew that they wouldn't be enough to deter his tenacious partner.
She determinedly shook her head, dismissing what she perceived as unnecessary concern. Before he could open his mouth to argue, she rose up on her tiptoes and planted a sweet, succulent kiss on his lips, effectively silencing his protests. Quite frankly, her provocative peck pretty much derailed his entire train of thought, since the euphoric tingles running up and down his spine rendered any type of coherent mental process thoroughly futile. This was scarcely the first time that they'd kissed - they'd done their fair share of it after Calleigh had gotten out of the hospital - but they'd always had to restrain themselves for fear of sending her running for her inhaler. On this occasion, however, her elation and relief at being able to see and hold him again appeared to have swept away her previous reservations, and she poured herself wholeheartedly into the kiss. The exquisite sensation of her lips against his and her uniquely intoxicating fragrance were rapidly turning what was left of his brain into useless mush.
With no small measure of glee, Eric noticed that Calleigh seemed unconcerned about the steady flow of human traffic strolling by them. Before they'd begun seeing each other, she'd been notoriously private and uneasy with grand public displays of affection. So he couldn't resist giving himself a tiny pat-on-the-back, pleased to no end that dating him had apparently helped her overcome her PDA-shyness.
Yanking himself back to reality with considerable effort, Eric tried again to summon the voice of reason. "Calleigh, I'm serious ... I don't want anything to happen to you." His second attempt at a warning had a similar result, as she leaned in and treated him to another delectable kiss, shutting off the remaining alarm bells in his head.
"C'mon, I have the safest house in Miami. Do you know how many guns I have?" Well, there was no disagreeing with that; she hadn't earned the nickname "Bullet Girl" for nothing. He gave an amused chuckle, deciding to let himself be persuaded, at least for the time being. Honestly, on a day like today, he didn't have the heart or the inclination to refuse her, when all he wanted was for her to be next to him.
"You protected me ... I'll protect you," she concluded, putting an end to all further objections on his part (not that any were forthcoming). Confident that the matter was settled, Calleigh slipped her arm fondly around Eric's waist and he happily mirrored the act, allowing her to lead him to the garage where her SUV was parked.
"Speaking of which, how are you going to 'protect me' ..." - Eric underscored the term by making mock quotation marks with his fingers - "... when you're supposed to be taking it easy? Being my, ah, body-guard isn't exactly the best way to avoid an adrenaline rush." It was evident from the mischievous tilt to his lips that his emphasis on the word "body" had been deliberate. Clearly, the possible double-meaning of that particular task had not escaped him.
But his lovely girlfriend played it coy, blithely responding, "Oh, no worries on that front. Yesterday, the doctors gave me a clean bill of health, and I feel as good as new. I've been warned to stay away from wildfires and burning buildings 'cause of the smoke, but otherwise, I've been cleared to return to normal activities, no matter how much they up my heart rate."
She might as well have told him that they'd won the lotto. After weeks of being on his best behavior, Eric had been wondering how much longer he'd have the willpower to keep his libido in check. His gaze raked unabashedly over the curves he couldn't wait to get his hands on, his raised eyebrows and sly smile conveying exactly what he had in mind to get their pulses racing. Calleigh countered with a saucy smirk of her own, letting him know that she had absolutely no objections to the sensual direction of his thoughts. In fact, if the twinkle in her green eyes was anything to go by, she'd be an eager participant in whatever "cardiovascular activities" were on the horizon.
As the twosome made their way towards Calleigh's Hummer, her eyes darted to their surroundings as though to remind them both that they were far from alone. With that apparently in mind, she steered the conversation back to less risqué treats. "So, which one of my culinary masterpieces do you feel like having for dinner?"
Eric couldn't stifle a good-natured chuckle at her transparent - but cute - attempt to change the subject, at least temporarily. One of the many things he adored about her was her ability to switch from "kick-butt-gun-toting-not-to-be-messed-with" investigator to "demure Southern Belle" at the drop of a dime. As loath as he was to take a pause on their R-rated discussion, he respected her desire to resume their steamy chat when there were no people (and kids!) milling around close by. He gave a drawn-out, exaggerated sigh for dramatic effect, prompting an answering laugh from Calleigh as she observed - and no doubt, related to - his frustrated lust.
Giving her a huge grin that virtually covered his entire face, he replied, "Well, I know you mentioned a traditional American dinner, but, honestly, I'm craving one of your down-home specialties. You always did make a mean seafood gumbo ..."
As it turned out, the promised dinner didn't come until much, much later, after Calleigh and Eric had worked up an appetite with the raciest form of "exercise" known to man. They'd barely entered her house before long-awaited, fiery kisses gave way to them practically ripping each others' clothes off, leaving a trail of discarded apparel between the front door and the bedroom. The recent deportation proceedings against the Cuban-American CSI had, thankfully, been resolved in his favor, but the prospect of a prolonged separation was still fresh in the couple's minds, lending a sense of urgency and relief to their initial amorous encounter. And of course, years of pent-up sexual tension before that made an unhurried pace downright impossible. Needless to say, the new lovers utterly and completely ravished each other, leaving them lying side-by-side on the bed like two boneless, panting blobs of ecstatic, sated jello. Eric could have sworn that he'd felt the earth move when they'd first joined together; seismology and scientific logic be damned.
After a brief respite (just long enough for him to regain control over his limp muscles), they embarked on a much more leisurely encore, taking the time to truly savor each other and express with their bodies what they couldn't yet say aloud. Calleigh far surpassed Eric's wildest dreams, and there had undoubtedly been many over the years (she was his living, breathing fantasy-girl, after all). She was a passionate, giving, gorgeous dream-come-true, and as he reveled in their closeness, he had to resist the repeated urge to pinch himself to make sure that he was actually doing this with the love of his life. He couldn't quite put it into words, but being with her like this felt like coming home; like he'd finally found that elusive "something" that he'd been seeking for ages. Before she'd walked into his life and unknowingly tossed his preconceived-notions out the window, he'd never believed that it was possible to find all that he needed in one woman. But per the old adage, things just had a way of falling into place when the moment, and the person, were right. Little wonder then, that he felt an amazing sense of completeness when they made love.
And as they lay together basking in the afterglow and the sheer joy of their togetherness, Eric realized that it could never be anything but making love when it came to the blonde beauty in his arms. In the past, he'd always dismissed as fiction the conventional wisdom that making love was miles better than merely having sex, figuring that that was just what nervous parents told their hormonal teenage sons to keep them from sowing their wild oats. But now that he'd experienced first-hand the difference that actually being in love made to the whole equation, he had to concede that it wasn't just the product of cheesy romance novels and parental over-protectiveness. Thus far in his lifetime, he'd hooked-up with more women than he cared to count, but none of those encounters - even the more adventurous ones - had involved anything beyond physical stimulation. With Calleigh, the depth of his feelings for her seemed to heighten his senses, making the experience infinitely more exciting and enjoyable than he could ever have imagined. Thanks to her, he finally recognized what it meant to experience real intimacy, and not just bodily, but soul-deep, satisfaction.
Eric's musings prompted a surge of strong emotion for the lady he was now lucky enough to call his girlfriend, and he hugged her snugly to him, enjoying the feel of her silky hair on his chest. As he stroked Calleigh's attractively-tousled locks and listened to the pleasant sound of her breathing gradually returning to normal, he harked back to her lighthearted "marriage proposal" in front of the Immigration Detention Center. Momentarily ensconced in the delightful memory, he almost let slip the belated answer that popped into his mind: "I would've said yes." He knew that she'd been half-joking when she'd offered, but to tell the truth, he would have jumped at the chance to make her his wife even without the threat of imminent deportation hanging over his head. In fact, he'd known for quite awhile that she was the woman he wanted beside him when he took that all-important walk down the aisle sometime in the not-too-distant future.
However, Eric kept this little tidbit to himself for now, since he could practically guarantee that Calleigh's timetable for wedded bliss was significantly slower than his. She'd only just become comfortable with the idea of them dating and showing affection in public, after all. She'd never been what you'd call an "open book" when it came to romantic relationships, and on top of that, her parents' dysfunctional union and bitter divorce had probably served to make her more than a little skeptical of the institution of marriage. Therefore, he suspected that she was in no hurry to jump the proverbial broom. Heck, if he knew Calleigh, bringing herself to admit that she loved him would be a major undertaking, even though it was written all over her face every time their eyes met. (Good thing he was a patient man where she was concerned). He was pretty sure that broaching the subject of matrimony right now would freak her out much more than the goriest murder scene she'd ever witnessed in her decade-long career as a CSI. And at the moment, she seemed so at peace - purring contentedly as he cradled her against him - that he didn't want to rock the boat. Better to leave well enough alone for now, and to just relish the luxury of simply having her near him.
As if on cue, Eric's stomach growled mightily, breaking his reverie and reminding him that it'd been awhile since he'd had a decent meal. (The meager fare at ICE hadn't exactly been scrumptious cuisine). Calleigh giggled adorably and gave his six-pack abs an indulgent squeeze.
"Sounds like somebody's hungry ... I mean for food, Mr. One-Track-Mind!" she teased, playfully swatting his arm when she spotted the naughty glint in his eyes.
"Well, you know what they say ... man cannot live by hot, mind-blowing, knock-your-socks-off nookie alone," he bantered back, enjoying the way her face flamed at his suggestive humor.
She struggled in vain to keep a straight face as she suggested, "How 'bout I rustle us up that dinner I promised you earlier?" Nimbly dodging his wandering hands, which had suddenly become very touchy-feely again, she hopped out of bed and pulled on her robe before starting the short trek down the hall to the kitchen.
"Sounds like a plan to me," he replied with a smile, rousing himself to follow her lead.
