OMG, writing this was a love/hate thing. I knew bathtiems needed to happen because it's just practical. Part of me didn't want it to be sexual at all but on the other hand how could it possibly not be? I think you'll be able to perceive my mixed emotion here as you read and the more I think about it, the more appropriate that is to what they are both feeling.

Again, this is M, though not as blatantly squirmworthy as the last M chap, it is more intimate. The end just kills me. Just sayin'.

Lie to me is sadly in the hands of others.


While Gillian would have loved to stay in her current position on the couch with Cal for the rest of the foreseeable future, if she didn't move soon, her back was going to need some serious attention.

Reluctantly she roused Cal and the two padded softly upstairs. Music drifted from Emily's room but no light shone under the doorway. Gillian hesitated at the door to the guest room and Cal looked at her with an amused grin.

"There's really no point in that now is there, love?" he said softly.

"I suppose not," she sighed.

"Are you tired yet?" he asked, and she thought she detected something behind the question.

"Not really," she admitted. "It's still early." She narrowed her eyes. "Why? What did you have in mind?"

"Well, if you're up for it," he hesitated, "I could really use a bath." He actually had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable asking.

She smiled. "I think we can probably figure something out."

They retreated to the quiet of Cal's bedroom and with a quick thought for Emily, locked the door just in case. At Gillian's suggestion they decided the best place with the least potential for mess was the bathroom. It was too soon allow Cal's sutures and incisions to get wet with a full shower. He also still lacked the range of motion to effectively wash himself and could not bend very easily from the waist without tremendous discomfort.

Gillian tried not to think about the fact that there was practically no way she was going to avoid being very close to a wet and nearly naked Cal during the process. The idea both unnerved and excited her and she cursed herself for her erotic curiosity in the face of his current situation.

Cal loaned Gillian a t-shirt so she wouldn't get her own clothes wet. It covered her to mid thigh and after a moment's thought she removed her bra as well. Unfortunately she didn't see herself getting through Cal's bath without one of her own.

Cal stripped and wrapped a towel tightly around his waist. He sat on the edge of the bathtub while Gillian gathered towels, washcloths, and the tub and soap she had purchased at the pharmacy. He carefully removed the bandages from his abdomen, relieved that doing so was far less uncomfortable this time.

Gillian bent down and inspected each incision. "These look really good Cal," she said, running her fingers lightly next to the wound on his right side.

The light touch of her fingers against his skin made his muscles twitch slightly. "They're starting to itch like crazy," he complained.

"I think that's a good sign. Just leave them alone," she warned, anticipating his next move.

"Next you'll be making me wear one of those collars they have for dogs," he grumbled.

"I have complete faith in your restraint," she said, managing absolute seriousness.

"Let's just get on with this shall we? It's humiliating enough."

"There's nothing wrong with needing someone Cal." She touched his shoulder.

Gillian stepped into the tub behind Cal, deciding to start by washing his hair. She took down the hand held shower head and ran the water as Cal tilted his head back as best as he could without pulling his stitches. Shielding his eyes she got his hair wet and then massaged a small amount of his shampoo into it. He moaned softly as her fingers worked against his scalp, creating a soft lather. The pleasant musky fragrance of his shampoo was comfortingly familiar as it spread through the room.

"That feels better than you can possibly imagine," he sighed.

"It's been a very long time since someone washed my hair so I'll take your word for it."

"I'll return the favor anytime you like, love," he said sincerely.

"I'll keep that in mind." She tried to keep emotion out of her voice but in truth the thought sparked feelings she really didn't have a place for at the moment.

Cal tried desperately to focus on something other than Gillian's gentle touch but the delightful feeling of her fingers sliding against his scalp combined with the relief of feeling clean again overwhelmed his senses. Warm water ran down his back as she rinsed the soap, effectively soaking the towel he was wearing.

"I think the rest might be easier if you stood in the tub," Gillian suggested.

He stood up slowly, cursing the tight pulling sensation in his belly as he turned a little too sharply. He supported himself against her shoulder as he stepped carefully over the edge of the tub, flinching slightly in discomfort and trying to preserve what little dignity he had left.

He stood face to face with her and met her eyes. Without her heels, the top of her head came just to the level of his forehead and she had to tilt her head up slightly to look at him. She reached up and tousled his damp hair, smiling to ease the sudden tension. He reached out a hand and stroked his thumb gently down her cheek, unable to miss her slight shiver as he did so.

"Thank you Gillian," he murmured softly.

She was silent for a moment, closing her eyes as she leaned into his palm slightly. Finally, she took a deep breath and focused. "Back first," she said, motioning for him to turn around.

Cal did as she commanded with an amused smile. When he felt her steadying hand against his spine followed by the sensation of the warm washcloth gliding across his neck and shoulders however, he was suddenly feeling anything but amusement. When she brushed against him and he could feel the hard peaks of her nipples graze his back through the thin wet material of the shirt she wore, his body reacted instantly, setting up a throbbing pulse in his groin which only intensified as her hands stroked lower and lower down his spine with agonizing slowness.

Gillian became mesmerized by the long narrow expanse of Cal's back. Her hands traced across his freckled skin and memorized the way his flat muscles bunched and tightened beneath her fingertips. Tiny droplets of water rolled down his spine and drew her eyes to the towel which hung low around his waist. She imagined following their path with her mouth, lapping and tasting every inch of his smooth flesh. Heat began to pool between her thighs and she forced herself to take slow even breaths in an attempt to quell her mounting arousal. She knew there was nothing either of them could do at the moment to relieve the tension but it did nothing to stop her desire to explore every inch of his body that was now bared to her despite the inappropriateness of the timing.

Cricket. Cricket was an excellent distraction. He recited the exhausting rules of the game in his head and then moved on to the roster for the England and Wales cricket team. When Gillian's fingers skimmed the top of the towel around his waist however, there was no distraction mundane enough to convince his mind that there was anything in the world worth knowing beyond her touch.

The terry cloth of the towel was rough against his groin as he swelled against its flimsy confines. He realized with a mix of embarrassment and pride that his erection was now tenting the material to a very noticeable degree and he moved his hands forward to cover himself.

Gillian finished with Cal's back but couldn't bring herself to move on. She dropped the cloth and hesitated only a moment before placing her hands on his shoulders and stepping in close, pressing her body tightly against him with a sigh. Sweeping her hands gently down his sides she touched her lips to his shoulder and traced a line to the curve of his neck with her mouth. He groaned softly and the strangled sound brought her immediately back to reality. She stepped back, unable to believe her own selfishness and lack of self control.

She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry Cal, I shouldn't have done that."

He turned slowly and the fire in his eyes was enough to stop her breath. "Don't ever be sorry for something like that, Gillian, I mean it," he growled as he traced her jaw line with his knuckles.

She shivered beneath his touch. "We should probably finish before we both get chilled." She reached for the washcloth and her eyes came to rest on what his hands were currently attempting to cover. She bit her lip and tried to pretend that she hadn't noticed.

She ran the cloth down each of his arms, stopping to trace the outlines of the deep blue marks on his upper right arm. His tattoos had always fascinated her and she rarely got a chance to study them in detail. She knew what each meant to him and somehow admired the fact that he had felt the need to display to the world those things which had marked him so deeply inside. It amazed her what a metaphor those markings were for the man himself. For all that Cal Lightman exuded the air of dark mystery man, everything that made him who he was could be as plain as the colorful etchings on his flesh when you only looked closely enough and in the right light.

Gillian shook herself when she realized she had been staring at his upper arm for far too long. She focused on the white cloth in her hand as she moved it across his shoulders to his chest. She could feel his eyes on her; knew he was studying her and still couldn't bring herself to look up. She stroked the cloth across his neck and let the warm soapy water drip down his chest. When she reached his abdomen she was thankful that her task required her complete focus.

Of course at this level, there was no ignoring his body's reaction to her touch but neither of them made mention of it. She gently cleaned and patted each of his incisions, making sure they didn't become overly wet. His towel was riding lower on his waist as it became more soaked with water and she trailed the moistened cloth over his lovely hips, unable to resist the urge to trail her fingers behind it.

Her task complete, she straightened and was suddenly faced with a new dilemma. The towel was now standing in the way of washing anything else, and what it covered was undeniably dangerous territory.

"So how do you want me to…" she trailed off awkwardly, gesturing to his lower half.

"You don't have to do anything beyond this if you don't want to, love. You've certainly done more than enough but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want you to."

He looked at her steadily and she felt her pulse quicken. Against every one of her better instincts, she stepped into him, angling her body carefully so that she didn't touch his stomach. Holding his eyes, she grazed her hands across his ribs and down his sides until they came to rest against the towel at his waist.

"I want to," she said in a soft voice as her trembling hand found the fastening for the towel and let it fall to the floor of the tub. His straining erection, now free from its meager restraint, pushed against her belly and she felt a rush of heat through her entire body. He was breathing had become quick and shallow and she once again reached for the soapy cloth, dipping it in the steamy water before she straightened and reached around behind him, flattening her hand on the cloth as she stroked it over his bottom.

The sensation of her hand against his ass was almost too much. Tiny rivulets of water ran down his thighs and found their way in to tickle his balls and he felt his cock twitch against her. Instinct took over and he moved his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her roughly to his lips. He felt her hesitate momentarily before she opened to him with a sigh, dropping the cloth as her hands roughly kneaded the flesh of his backside.

Her mouth was alive beneath his as he spilled every ounce of passion and frustration into the only outlet he had. Her tongue, tentative at first, now lapped against his lower lip and tangled with his own. She moaned sweetly into his mouth as he slipped a hand between their bodies to massage her breast. With his other hand he lifted the hem of her shirt so that his cock slipped beneath and his tip rubbed against the smooth skin of her stomach. He was quickly becoming painfully hard and he groaned in frustration causing Gillian to pull away and look at him with concern.

"I'm sorry," she said, touching her lips. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You didn't. At least not in the way you're concerned about." He raked a hand through his hair, looking down at the evidence of his arousal. "As ashamed as I am to say it, I should probably do something to take care of this."

"Can you?" she said without thought and wanted to kick herself. "I mean, medically, is it a good idea?"

"Probably not, but to be honest, it won't take much at this point. You just seem to have that effect on me, love," he growled. "And if I don't I think I'm going to be in a completely different kind of pain."

Gillian felt horrible for not having shown more restraint. She knew better of course but somehow Cal always had the effect of sending her better judgment flying out the window. She bit her lip as her imagination began to work overtime and slowly met his eyes. "What if I wanted to…do something about that for you? Do you think I would hurt you? If I was careful I mean?" she asked in a small hesitant voice.

"Gillian…" his jaw was tight as he said her name.

"Please?" she asked, reaching out a hand to cup him and ran her hand up his thick shaft.

"How can I possibly say no to that?" he said in a shuddering breath.

Her smile was almost shy as she looked up at him and he felt something break loose inside and travel directly up into his throat. He watched as she lifted the hem of her borrowed shirt, pulling it over her head in a fluid movement and he swallowed hard as the sight of her breasts and hard dusky nipples sent renewed heat racing to his groin. No, this will definitely not take long at all.

She reached for the tub of water and soaked her hands. She then squeezed a generous amount of soap into her palms and rubbed them together. Stepping into Cal, she reached up for his lips at the moment she closed both hands firmly around his erection.

He gasped against her mouth and closed his eyes tightly at the intensely pleasurable sensation of her hands sliding slowly up and down in the slippery lubrication provided by the soap. He wanted to keep kissing her, wanted to enjoy all that she could offer him but his body was weak and he lacked the strength to fight what it desperately needed. He grasped her breasts roughly, twisting her nipples between his thumb and finger as he leaned into her neck, nipping at the soft flesh as his breath came is harsh pants and moans in time with the quickening rhythm of her hands.

Gillian was careful to avoid Cal's abdomen as she worked him with her hands. It took all the concentration she had as his hands massaged her breasts and his rough breathing against her ear intensified and dissolved into the almost incomprehensible chanting of her name. Sensing how close he was, she reached a hand down and gently kneaded his balls as she concentrated on short quick strokes against his head.

"Oh god, don't stop," he panted unevenly as his body went rigid. "Fuck, I'm going to come." He reached down and grabbed her hips, his fingers digging in roughly. She stilled her movements as his teeth dug into her shoulder, muffling his cry as he spilled hotly into her hand in powerful spurts. With two last slow strokes she drained him and helped lower his trembling body to the edge of the tub. She rinsed her hands quickly and then wrapped her arms around his shoulders, cradling his heavy head against her breasts as he drew air into his lungs in deep shuddering breaths.

She stroked his still-wet hair until his shoulders slumped and his breathing quieted somewhat. "Are you alright?" she asked soothingly.

"Better than alright I think." He pulled back and looked down at his abdomen. "Everything appears to still be intact at least. Not too tender."

"Can you stand?"

"No time like the present to find out I guess."

She placed a supporting hand beneath his arm and helped him up.

"I should probably wash this stuff off," he noted, gesturing toward the soap the still covered his groin. "Best to let me get it this time I think, love." He took the washcloth she offered him and rinsed himself thoroughly but gently.

Gillian helped him out of the tub and dried his body with a fluffy towel. Both still naked, they moved back to the bedroom and Cal arranged himself against his pile of pillows while Gillian set to work re-covering his sutures. She knew she should feel the need to dress but she found that she was oddly comfortable being unclothed around him, as if she wanted him to see her. She realized that she had never felt more beautiful in all her life than when he looked at her nude body with such open arousal.

When she finished, she looked up to find that his eyes had already drifted closed. She turned off the lights and crawled into bed beside him, taking up the place beneath his shoulder and chin that had begun to feel like home.

He turned his head and nuzzled her hair gently. "Don't leave Gillian."

"I'm staying Cal." She placed a hand on his chest.

"Ever, Gill. Don't leave ever, love." He kissed her forehead gently.

She remained quiet as his breathing grew slow and even. When she was sure he was asleep she let the tears slip slowly down her cheeks.


Wild ride wasn't it? How did that make you feel?