TITLE: The Innocence of a Touch
AUTHOR: Anansay
DATE: July 21, 2003
SUMMARY: An innocent touch leads two people down an unknown path of discovery.
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: These characters are owned by those who own CSI.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Just a little something that sprung from an imagination that
doesn't ever settle down. I've been told I think too much. If only they knew
what I think about! LOL! This is a standalone story.
~*~
The Innocence of a Touch
by Anansay
July 22, 2003
She felt his hands on her shoulders and she tried to move out of his
way. But his hands stayed on her shoulders and began pushing her forward. Confused, her
feet moved to where his hands guided her, and she found them in the locker room, a private
room. To the far corner, away from the doorway, he continued pushing her before turning
her around to face him.
She looked up at him, and his eyes bored into hers like shafts of dark
passion. It caught her off guard, this sudden, unmitigated desire.
Then his hands were her face, holding it there while he intensified his
gaze. She was powerless to look away, both for his hands and his eyes. They stole from her
what control she had left after his hands had grabbed her shoulders. She wondered what he
would do, would he kiss her, like she was hoping? But he wasn't moving, just staring down
at her. And then she saw the silent questioning battle in his mind as he struggled with
his desires versus his obligations. He was stuck.
So she leaned up into him and pressed her lips to his, letting her
tongue run along his lips until they opened with a moan and their tongues were meshing
together, in a frantic bid to capture as much in this tiny moment as could be crammed in.
His hands dropped from her face to land on her back and he pulled her to him fiercely,
like a drowning man pulls the ring to him before he goes down one last time. His arms were
shaking as he held her and she wrapped her arms around his torso, needing to feel his body
in her arms. His mouth crushed hers in a plea to just let go and accept him.
It had been so long since she'd felt another body in such intimate
contact with her own that she found herself milking it for all it was worth, for as long
as it would last. His lips on hers were soft and yielding, yet there was a firm and
demanding quality that helped to push her slightly over the edge and into the realm of
mindless lust. Her body took over as her hips began thrusting into his. His arousal became
clear, pressing into her hot center. She moaned into his mouth and found herself backed up
against the far wall, his entire length held against her. His heat was suffocating and she
melted against him. Thought left her mind to be replaced by need and desire. Her leg
glided up his thigh pulling him to her, his arousal touching her heated center more
forcefully than she'd intended. He bucked into her, groaning, his hands grabbing her ass
and pulling her into him.
His lips left her bruised and swollen ones to suckle madly at the
tender skin of her neck. She craned her head back allowing him ample room to discover that
part of her body. Her hands drifted down to his pants to untuck his shirt, her hands
roaming beneath it to the heated skin of his back. He arched into her, grunting. She
dragged her nails down his back, enjoying the rippling sensations passing through his
muscles as he tried desperately not to loose concentration. The heat in her center took
over and she knew she needed him, wanted him inside her. Didn't matter where they
were Her hands dragged around to his stomach - and she giggled when his muscles
spasmed at her gentle tough - and attacked the button and zipper.
She'd just gotten the button undone when his hands landed on hers,
stopping their motion.
She brought her head down; his head was still nestled in her neck, but
he'd stopped his kissing. Everything had stopped, but he hadn't moved. And then his head
came up and she caught his eyes. There was fear and remorse in them. He looked away from
her as he stepped back and straightened himself. She stared at him a moment before pushing
herself away from the wall. She saw him from her peripheral vision as he struggled to
regain some sort of outward sense of composure, but his hands mussing around with his
clothes gave away his nervousness. It was a few minutes before he was able to look her in
the eye. She hadn't said a word, just stood there, waiting for him to do something. The
look in his eyes was something she would never forget. She allowed her own eyes to show
what she was feeling; no words could adequately convey her hurt. So she let him see it,
and feel it, through her eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said, under his breath.
"What?"
"I'm sorry for what just happened All I wanted to do was get
by, but"
She sighed, looked down and went to pass him to the door. His hand shot
out and grabbed her arm. "Please" he started to say, but she pulled her
arm from his, gave him a cold stare and left the room, leaving the door to close softly
behind her.
She leaned against the wall by the door, allowing her eyes to close as
she fought to calm her racing heart. Her mind struggled to fathom and logicize what had
just happened. But confusion clouded it and prevented any logical thought from forming.
All she knew was that something irreversible had just happened, and for no apparent
reason, as though all sanity had departed him and she'd caught the contagion, falling prey
to his presence once again. Only this time, it had been a lot more than just a mere
physical reaction. This time, it had been mutual and exploratory - oh yeah! Exploratory!
Her lips still burned from his assault and her neck still bore the wetness from his
tongue. She wiped at herself and then wiped her hand on her pants. But the feeling - and
the memory - were still there. To haunt her for a long time.
She stood up straight and continued down the hall, toward the lab.
Regardless of what kind of mental illness had suddenly taken hold of Grissom, work still
needed to get done.
They met again in the breakroom but everyone else was there. He
didn't meet her eye, merely looked away, over her shoulder, past her. He spoke in
clipped, low, monotone voice while he handed out assignment sheets. And then he was gone.
Like a ghost, his form disappearing down the hall. She watched him leave, her eyes
following him like he was a trail. A trail to something that she didn't know if she
wanted to follow. Her lips still tingled, her body still swam with the butterflies of a
few moments ago. They wouldn't settle.
She stood in his doorway. She watched him, his head down, glasses
perched on the tip of his nose, lips pursed, tongue poking through. His stilled hand moved
swiftly, penning his name quickly and efficiently before the paper was whisked to another
pile. The completed pile. The finished pile. The one that he could forget, it was done.
Had he signed off on her? Pushed her to the pile of the ones he could
forget?
Her shadow fell upon him and he looked up, above his glasses, his pale
blue eyes catching hers. She gasped silently, her mouth opening in a silent response to
her own body's response.
He stared at her. And she wondered at what she saw in those eyes.
Patience for a worker? Apology for his actions, or lack of?
She sighed, her body slumping, caving in on itself, her resolve
slipping fast behind her through his door, leaving only her.
And him.
"Did you need something?" he asked, his voice betraying only
slightly his ambivalence at having her here, so near him. He was good at hiding his
feelings. But not that good.
Her eyes traveled over his face and settled on his lips. Those lips
that had pressed against hers.
She moved forward and around his desk to stand in front of his turned
chair. He stood up, meeting her eye to eye. He was waiting. Waiting for her to do
something. But this was his office and she hadn't closed his door.
Her eyes wandered over his face again, searching for that one elusive
hint of something other than what he was trying to hard to present to her. That one
element of depth of feeling.
The pulse beat frantically in his neck and he licked his lips, his eyes
never leaving hers.
Neither of them moved.
She placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed down. He resisted only
for a moment before landing in his chair, his knees betraying him. The force of his
descent brought her down with him. Their faces were mere inches from each other. She could
feel his breath on her face; it was jittery.
He was staring up at her, waiting again. He'd made the first move
in the locker room, even if it hadn't been his intent. Now he sat and waited.
Something pushed her from behind. A force that moved her toward him,
and made their lips touched. The gentle touch sent sparks shooting through her body and
she gasped. Leaning over him, her arms beginning to tremble at the exertion, she kept her
lips just brushing his, the softness tickling. She fought against the urges swirling in
her body.
He kept his body still, his lips still, but she could feel them
trembling. He didn't pull away, but he didn't come forward either. And she knew
then that the ball was completely in her court. Turning her head, she pressed in further,
meshing her lips with his. He still didn't move, only let her move on him. When her
tongue prodded against his closed lips, she felt them open slowly and then his head to
turn. He finally gave in and joined her, his mouth against hers, his hands resting on her
hips.
Sara moaned into his mouth when she felt his hands on her hips, a hand
moved to cup his face, to feel his skin. It was warm, like a fever. Her fingers
combed through his hair, the curls trying to capture her hand before it came back to down
to rest agains this face. Her thumb rubbed along the skin by their lips and she felt
him moving against her, his fingers digging into her hips, his breathing jittery.
But her position was wreaking havoc on her lower back. With a sigh she
pulled away, leaning back, her hand still on his face, still caressing. Her thumb
traced his swollen moist lips and his tongue darted against her thumb.
Grissom's eyes slowly opened and Sara was shocked to see such purity of
feeling. He was staring up at her, his body was trembling and his breathing erratic.
It was such a shock but for reason not very surprising. If the man's passion for
bugs was any indication, his passion was an all-encompassing characteristic that she
longed to explore further. But her back demanded attention.
They stared at each other a moment longer and then Sara stood up
and took a step back before stretching her body. Grissom stood up and came to her,
standing in front of her.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled.
"For what?"
"Earlier."
Sara stared at him, at a loss for the words that would describe the
tumultuous sensations in her. She merely nodded her head. It was the best she could do at
the moment, lost in his eyes. His hand came out and brushed against her waist, a memento
of their previous position. Staring into his eyes, Sara knew that a boundary had been
crossed. They'd entered new territory.
"Can I call you?" he asked.
"Yes."
Grissom smiled. "Okay." He stared at her a moment longer, not
wanting to take his eyes off her. "Uh work" Coherent sentences
eluded him but he tried to get his point across.
Sara nodded. "Yes, work. Needs us."
Grissom nodded in return. "We should go."
"Mm-hmm" Never taking her eyes off him, Sara backed up
a few steps. "Are you coming?"
"I'll be there in a minute, Sara. Paperwork."
She glanced at his desk and then back at him. "Okay." She
smiled and then turned and walked out of his office.
Grissom watched her leave and when he was sure she was out of sight and
not coming back, he turned and fell into his chair, letting his breath out in a long, loud
sigh. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his face with his hands as though to rid himself of the
encounter. Not ridding as in forever, just changing façade from Grissom-the-man to
Grissom-the-supervisor. It wasn't easy though, the two were getting closer and closer
together, especially where Sara was concerned.
Gathering his notes, he stood again, noting the lessened shakiness in
his legs and left his office.
~*~
Copyright © 2003Anansay