"Don't what, Grissom?" Sara didn't permit herself to look into his eyes, fearful above all things of what she might find there. He allowed himself to speak to her with his eyes far too much anyway; the messages he tended to convey in that fashion were almost never the ones she would have wanted to hear anyway. As confident as she hoped she appeared to him, inside she was quivering with fear, dreading the pain of rejection that she'd already experienced once, in a situation far, far less compromising. Avoiding his eyes, Sara raised her free hand to rest on his shoulder, and leaned in to press a kiss on the side of his neck. Grissom's own free hand came up to grasp her upper arm, squeezing it almost painfully. Without seeing his expression, Sara couldn't know if he was angry or affected with her actions, but she commanded herself not to care.
"Don't stop? Or don't start..." Sara whispered it in his ear, and was rewarded by a further tightening of his grip on her arms.
Grissom was drowning in a sea of sensation. How Sara had morphed from being an angry lioness to a tempting vixen, he didn't know, but he had certainly been wrong about which was easier to deal with. He'd thought there couldn't be anything more confusing than an angry Sara, but the enchantress whispering in his ear had successfully made a mess of his well-ordered mind, not to mention his already chaotic heart. Her words were an electric current that traveled from his ear straight to his groin, and though he was certain of what he should say in response to her soft question, if he didn't shift positions--and soon--he wouldn't have to speak to provide her an answer.
Sara breathed hotly on his neck, resisting the urge to nibble on his earlobe. She hadn't intended to go anywhere near this far, but once again had forgotten the things his proximity could do to her senses, and today, her inhibitions. Sara decided that anger + desire was a potent mix, and not to be taken lightly. It felt like forever since she had spoken, although she knew it couldn't have been more than a minute or so. She felt as though she was drunk on the smell of him, the shampoo he used, the deodorant he wore, the clean, fresh, essence of Grissom. Sara moved closer, pressing her body against his, and felt her entire body flush with the knowledge of what she encountered. Grissom groaned involuntarily, and tried to move away from her, but he was trapped against the desk. Suddenly, she wasn't so fearful of what would be revealed in his eyes.
"Tongue-tied, Grissom? Show me." Sara's hand, which had never moved from his neck, curled around to hold his head in place as she slowly, inexorably, lifted her head to kiss him. A split second before their lips touched, their eyes made contact, and the world exploded. Grissom had been frozen in place by her seductive question, not even letting himself dare to believe this was anything but an erotic dream. The second they met each other's eyes, however, the reality of the situation was made crystal clear, and he knew he had a decision to make. Grissom didn't make the decision he expected he would, though.
Their eyes met, and his hands slipped from his grasp on her shoulders to either side of her face, holding her in place. Noses almost touching, their eyes made war as the woman took his gesture to mean he was bringing their near-kiss to a halt. She would have none of it, and shamelessly she pressed herself up against his body, her arms entwined behind his neck. If he was planning to get out of this, he'd have to unwrap her from around him first. Her assumption was wrong, however. Grissom had been trying to establish control over himself, but the second his hands touched her face he lost his battle. He held her there only to allow himself the luxury of seeing the desire in her eyes, totally unthinking of what she might see mirrored in his. They held their posture for a long moment, both enjoying the sights, sounds, and feelings of this new experience.
Sara felt as though he was doing it again--always telling her 'this far, no farther.' 'He may be the boss at work, but I don't like being bossed around in a relationship,' she told herself, ignoring the protests of her common sense that it would probably take more than a kiss, however passionate, for Gil Grissom to see the light. Sara lifted herself up on one leg, and wrapped the free one around Grissom's. The added contact was too much for either of them to bear without a release, and they both knew it. Grissom's mind was screaming at him to take it slowly, but there was no way he was listening. The demands of his body, long starved of even the most secret imagining of such a moment, would not be denied. A hand left her face and slid down to support her leg, as he crushed her lips and her body to his in one glorious moment.
Even in Sara's most closely guarded fantasies, it was never this good. She held on for dear life as she felt her body melt, turning liquid and molding itself to his. His lips on hers were sweet agony, the contact anything but gentle. Though she had been the aggressor during much of their previous battle, it was Grissom who was in charge now. His hand tangled in her hair as his tongue tangled with hers, thrusting and seeking as though he intended to learn every hot inch of her mouth. The kiss turned into a metaphor for all their joys and pains, as each now strove to gain mastery of the other. Sara's right hand slid down his back, clawing a grasp of his shirt, while her left hand slid down and slipped between the buttons to stroke his chest. Suddenly, Grissom simultaneously lifted her up and turned around, placing her on his desk as he traced a path of hot kisses across her neck to her ear. Sara lifted her legs up to grasp his waist, and she moaned in appreciation of his rough ministrations.
The sound brought Grissom back from the carnal reality, and his body stiffened. Grissom groaned as he realized he had been about to take her on his own desk, right there, in CSI headquarters.
"Sara, stop." Grissom winced at the way it came out; he sounded like a schoolteacher chastising his student. Sara, for her part, had suddenly been very aware of the position their bodies had taken. Grissom's words stabbed like a hot knife in her back, and she felt as though her entire body was blushing. She studiously avoided his gaze as she detached herself and stood up. Refusing to look at him, she made her way to the door, trying desperately to shut out the image of the movie she'd watched only 2 hours previously. She resolved violently not to ever, EVER watch a romantic drama again, if the memories of them were going to intrude on such delicate moments in her life. Sara took a deep breath, firmly holding back her tears. She would not give him the satisfaction.
"I guess I got my answer, Grissom." Still avoiding his eyes, Sara turned and walked away.