Disclaimer: CSI: Miami does not belong to me. The characters are full of inspiration, intelligence, and intrigue that I can't help but borrow them a short while. I heartily enjoy the show and its premise. The events of this story are mine, but the characters are definitely not.
Author's Note: For b8kworm, the H/C group. Eternal gratitude to Mr. Hathaway, who made me realize I had a talent I was wasting; my apologies for neglecting to put a note here on all the other stories. To Lauri, because you've made me more vocal about the smut I'm addicted to but can't write; this is as close as I get. Thanks, Marianne, for your enthusiasm and help for my *trudgings*, LoL!
Summary: She could see that control, which kept him just outside her personal space, giving her his permission to seduce to her heart's desire. Just before she did just that, she promised his heart a sincere conversation with hers.
Archives: My site. Anybody else, email me. I like to go visiting.
Pairing(s): Horatio/Calleigh
Spoiler: None, sorry.
***** ***** *****Title: Nights Under the Full Jazz Moon
Author: Laeta
Email: ladylaeta@yahoo.com
Chapter 3: Sweet Invitation
Silence continued to pass from Calleigh's lips. Always drawn to Horatio, she watched in slow-motion vision as his other hand drew toward her face to join its counterpart; the tender gesture of framing her face frayed all of Calleigh's control. She shook from the sheer onslaught of emotions - frustration, vulnerability, stress, need, and most of all, love.
"Calleigh, look at me." Shaky eyes gradually centered themselves on his. "Trust me; I won't ever hurt you, sweetheart. You know that, right?"
Her only semblance of a nod was the shift of her eyes toward his lips and back again.
"I - I can't - not here. I'm so sorry." She knew he could see her disappointment in herself and prayed he did not feel the same. She had her answer with Horatio's next move.
One hand began a slow journey to her neck, over her shoulder, and down the length of her arm to her hand, which he lifted and turned palm up, while the other reached into his jacket's breast pocket. A white, business size card was withdrawn and landed print side down into her palm; Calleigh felt electricity when both his hands held her one and her heartbeat ceased its arrhythmia and merely raced.
"Shh, it's alright. We can continue another time, no worries, okay?" She managed to complete a nod this time.
Then he leaned even closer into Calleigh's personal space and whispered his next words into her ear, creating shivers down her spine. "Good. If you're free this Friday night, meet me here." He soothed the waves of arousal by stepping back and, with both hands supporting hers, he stooped to lay a kiss on the back of her hand. Calleigh all but swooned at the romantic undertones of the out-dated kiss.
Letting go, he moved to leave the room but stalled a foot behind her. She whirled around in confusion and saw Horatio's profile as he debated internally. Then she found herself caught between red-hot heat and the unyielding table as Horatio consumed her lips. Calleigh had no defenses against Horatio's skill of persuasive teasing and soon, she was desperate for more.
She bowed into his body and gave him more than he asked for. He took without heed and fought valiantly for control. She drew her hands up his chest, held onto his neck for anchorage, and brought Horatio with her into the world of passion's fog where time stood still and they were free to act on their attraction. She heard herself moan and felt a response from Horatio when he deepened the kiss further. They were lost to the physical world and were crudely brought back once he groaned and tore his mouth away from hers.
She discovered she had somehow managed to be seated atop the table with Horatio's hands braced on either side of her slim body. He rested his head, eyes closed, on Calleigh shoulder, gasping for breath. On the other hand, equally as breathless, she leaned onto Horatio's rigid frame; she fought to reconnect with the air-conditioned world of the lab.
"Calleigh - Calleigh, I'm sorry - I didn't -"
Ever the gentleman to the core, Calleigh cut off his quick apology with a heated breath: "Finish that sentence and you're gone until you're willing to apologize for thinking about apologizing."
Connected as she was with him, she knew it took a moment before the implication sank into his mind. At the moment it did, the tension that had filled the room to brimming since she first stepped inside shattered as he laughed away his initial guilt for potentially taking advantage of her. He remained in her arms, not daring to make eye contact, while she soothed the fire raging within his body. One slender hand drew comforting circles along the back of his neck and shoulders; the other danced along his hair.
She started when he nudged into her neck and sniffed. Surprising still was the vibrations shooting through his body from that action; it was as if his body burned for another kiss. She sighed in remembrance and felt his smile. Gradually, he shifted his stance and raised his head without dislodging her arms around his body.
"All right, no apologizing; you got it, sweetheart." She rewarded with a smile and watched his breath falter though he continued on, albeit breathlessly. "How about honesty? I've wanted to kiss you like that for about three days." He edged closer. "If I were even more honest, I would say I wanted you since you came to Miami."
Thoughts emptied out of her mind; could the man say anything more right? Sensations of appreciation and being needed and wanted flooded her veins so she barely heard his next words. "What?"
She savored the good-humored laughter that drifted from him into her. And then he just took, exactly as sweet as his words were, he melted her with his next claimed kiss. She clung to him though he refused to remove his hands from the tabletop; they clenched and unclenched in desperation next to her.
Later when the haze of fever abated and she could think clearly, she would know he refused to touch her any further because of tenuous control. He had already given in to it more than he intended. However, right then and there, all she could feel was a stung reminder of glass, equipment, and work. It brought her back to reality quicker and more effectively than a cold bucket of water.
"Horatio -"
He looked as doused as she felt, but she refused to let him withdraw from her. She was beginning to adore his wry chuckle.
"What're we going to do?"
"Friday night. That a date?"
"Would you like it to be?"
"Stop trying to charm me; you do better without the effort."
Now she received a fleeting touch as he held her hips to help her down from the table. She slid down his body and grinned at Horatio's tortured face.
"Stop tempting me."
"From what, Horatio?"
"You, sweetheart."
She grinned. "Charmer."
He stole another kiss. "I'd like for it to be a date."
She felt like spinning in unadulterated glee. She watched as he considered the temptation of running his hand through her hair; he eyed its length like a hawk.
"Why don't you?" Dual meaning; of course she knew he would understand.
Eyes narrowed; his hand smoothed over her head and down her back. A smile of pure male pride drifted over his face when she practically purred from delight.
"Yes, why don't we."
Then they both heard the ticking of the clock signaling the passage of time. The air of romance flitted away; it was time to work.
"You should leave, Horatio." She knew the resignation she saw in his eyes reflected in hers.
"Yeah." Still he remained in her arms; he stalled for more sweet romance. "I bought coffee for you."
"Are you trying to soften me for something?"
He took his time answering. When he voiced his exposed response, Calleigh knew he was playing for keeps. "Actually, I'm aiming to court you."
Shock fell away from her in pieces while Horatio measured her reaction to his declaration. Relief was an invigorating sensation that left no room for adverse feelings once she cleared the air with invitation and intent.
"Well, Handsome, I look forward to it."
However loath to do so, she shooed him away after that knowing neither would be able to find any fraction of decorum while they remained near the other. He paused in the open doorway, stopping midway in his reluctant trek, and glanced obliquely toward Calleigh. "Friday night? Wear your hair up. I think I can withstand the temptation of your neck again but not your hair." With that, he was gone.
Laughter bubbled from Calleigh's lungs. So that's how they were going to play it.
Chapter 4: Jazz Urgings
***** ***** *****
© RK 21.May.2003
