Alla Prima, chapter three.
Oh, I'm just punching out these chapters. This one gets a PG-13.
Thanks to Meg and Tash, for displaying interest. :)
Warrick had been touching Catherine all night. Letting his hand rest on the small of her back, running his fingers along the curve of her inner arm, leaning in close enough so that she could feel the warmth of his skin on hers. He was teasing her, making her want him.
"Are you sure you're okay with spending this much money?" she asked for what had to be the eighth time that night as they sat having dinner. "I feel guilty." She didn't, really, but she said it anyway.
He just stared at her, watching her take a sip from her wine glass. His eyes were practically burning two holes in hers, but she didn't feel uncomfortable, just...vulnerable. Like any moment he'd announce he knew all her secrets.
Once in a while he would ask her something or tell her something that seemed to come out of absolutely nowhere, but she tried not to seem surprised. The thoughtful, introverted, creative personality he had acquired was attractive to her, and she didn't want to do anything to make it go away.
Wanting to make him blush, she ran the tip of her finger along the curve of her plate and rose an eyebrow. "That shirt matches your eyes," she said casually, leaning her elbows on the table. "You look really good."
He smiled, flattered, and looked down at the floor. In that instant he was the Warrick she knew, until he looked up again, bold-faced. "You look..." He searched for the right word... "Incredible," he said, leaning farther across the table, watching her intently. His eye contact was interrupted when her beeper started going off, and then, almost immediately after, his.
They both looked down. "Greg's got something on our naked man case," Catherine said loudly, almost annoyed, and she saw Warrick nod. "Should we go in?"
He looked down at their plates. "It would probably be smart," he said, and she saw the disappointment in his eyes.
"It's a huge case," she agreed. "But... I had a great time, I..." she trailed off, not knowing what to say. He stood in front of her, seeming to memorize her face, and she could smell his cologne.
"I had a great time, too," he said, but so quietly she had to strain to hear.
*********
A few days later, Catherine walked into the evidence room, seeing Warrick leaning over the table looking at something intently. "Hey," she said softly, watching him twist around to face her. His eyes were frosted, and the skin on his face looked soft, smooth, glowing.
"Hey," he greeted warmly, clearly happy to see her. "What's up, why are you here?"
"Same reason you are," she said, resting a hand on his back, "I think."
"I'm here because I'm obsessed with this case." He leaned his back against the table and folded his arms, observing her. "Couldn't sleep, and I had no plans for today."
"Lindsey's at her grandma's for the holiday, there's nothing for me at home. I hate being there by myself." She stood beside him, trying to be still, not wanting to stir the heaviness of the air. "Too quiet."
He rested his hand on the table behind her. "I have the same problem," he said quietly, almost cautiously. "I invite people over all the time, hate being alone."
She swallowed, trying to keep the electricity circling around the room at full speed. "How is it that we're the only workaholics in this place on a holiday?" She made her voice sound light, casual, but before she knew it he was standing so close to her she could feel his body heat.
He leaned into her first, but she was the one who kissed him. It was spontaneous, she only did it because she knew they were alone and she hadn't been able to stop thinking about the idea since their date.
She couldn't feel the steel of the table behind her, only his hands on her skin, the warmth emanating from his fingers seeping into her stomach. He moved closer, looking at her in more of an intense way than she had ever seen before. Oh, he was attractive. Dark skin, hair you could lose a hand in, and his eyes... His eyes had been the first thing about him that caught her attention. Before she noticed his sexy walk she was blown away by the fixed, gorgeous gaze that spilled out from those eyes.
Murmuring something into her neck, he let his lips graze the sensitive skin behind her ear, then pulled back and watched her as she caught her breath and averted his stare. "You're a bad influence," he stated, like it was a good thing. She arched an eyebrow. It was the last thing she had expected him to say.
"What, you've never made out in the evidence room after hours before?" she teased him, playfully putting one of her legs between his, wanting him to touch her again.
He smiled. The next thing she knew he was gently lifting her up on the table, caressing her skin with those long, beautiful, warm fingers.
Warrick had been touching Catherine all night. Letting his hand rest on the small of her back, running his fingers along the curve of her inner arm, leaning in close enough so that she could feel the warmth of his skin on hers. He was teasing her, making her want him.
"Are you sure you're okay with spending this much money?" she asked for what had to be the eighth time that night as they sat having dinner. "I feel guilty." She didn't, really, but she said it anyway.
He just stared at her, watching her take a sip from her wine glass. His eyes were practically burning two holes in hers, but she didn't feel uncomfortable, just...vulnerable. Like any moment he'd announce he knew all her secrets.
Once in a while he would ask her something or tell her something that seemed to come out of absolutely nowhere, but she tried not to seem surprised. The thoughtful, introverted, creative personality he had acquired was attractive to her, and she didn't want to do anything to make it go away.
Wanting to make him blush, she ran the tip of her finger along the curve of her plate and rose an eyebrow. "That shirt matches your eyes," she said casually, leaning her elbows on the table. "You look really good."
He smiled, flattered, and looked down at the floor. In that instant he was the Warrick she knew, until he looked up again, bold-faced. "You look..." He searched for the right word... "Incredible," he said, leaning farther across the table, watching her intently. His eye contact was interrupted when her beeper started going off, and then, almost immediately after, his.
They both looked down. "Greg's got something on our naked man case," Catherine said loudly, almost annoyed, and she saw Warrick nod. "Should we go in?"
He looked down at their plates. "It would probably be smart," he said, and she saw the disappointment in his eyes.
"It's a huge case," she agreed. "But... I had a great time, I..." she trailed off, not knowing what to say. He stood in front of her, seeming to memorize her face, and she could smell his cologne.
"I had a great time, too," he said, but so quietly she had to strain to hear.
*********
A few days later, Catherine walked into the evidence room, seeing Warrick leaning over the table looking at something intently. "Hey," she said softly, watching him twist around to face her. His eyes were frosted, and the skin on his face looked soft, smooth, glowing.
"Hey," he greeted warmly, clearly happy to see her. "What's up, why are you here?"
"Same reason you are," she said, resting a hand on his back, "I think."
"I'm here because I'm obsessed with this case." He leaned his back against the table and folded his arms, observing her. "Couldn't sleep, and I had no plans for today."
"Lindsey's at her grandma's for the holiday, there's nothing for me at home. I hate being there by myself." She stood beside him, trying to be still, not wanting to stir the heaviness of the air. "Too quiet."
He rested his hand on the table behind her. "I have the same problem," he said quietly, almost cautiously. "I invite people over all the time, hate being alone."
She swallowed, trying to keep the electricity circling around the room at full speed. "How is it that we're the only workaholics in this place on a holiday?" She made her voice sound light, casual, but before she knew it he was standing so close to her she could feel his body heat.
He leaned into her first, but she was the one who kissed him. It was spontaneous, she only did it because she knew they were alone and she hadn't been able to stop thinking about the idea since their date.
She couldn't feel the steel of the table behind her, only his hands on her skin, the warmth emanating from his fingers seeping into her stomach. He moved closer, looking at her in more of an intense way than she had ever seen before. Oh, he was attractive. Dark skin, hair you could lose a hand in, and his eyes... His eyes had been the first thing about him that caught her attention. Before she noticed his sexy walk she was blown away by the fixed, gorgeous gaze that spilled out from those eyes.
Murmuring something into her neck, he let his lips graze the sensitive skin behind her ear, then pulled back and watched her as she caught her breath and averted his stare. "You're a bad influence," he stated, like it was a good thing. She arched an eyebrow. It was the last thing she had expected him to say.
"What, you've never made out in the evidence room after hours before?" she teased him, playfully putting one of her legs between his, wanting him to touch her again.
He smiled. The next thing she knew he was gently lifting her up on the table, caressing her skin with those long, beautiful, warm fingers.