A Few Days in Chicago Chapter 6
They were in the bed in seconds, and as she touched his hair, kissed his closed eyes, and worked to remove the towel around his waist, he met her with a passion as furious as her own. As men have thought for thousands of years, Grissom thought of a warm sea rising to meet him. She was the warm liquid moving in his direction pushing and covering him with gentle waves that became pounding surf.
"Go with me, Sara." He caressed her until he heard her gasp and felt the surge of passion as intimate needs pulled them into their own world. He was lost. If this were his last moment on earth, he would leave knowing love. He did not want to part from her. His hand moved to a special erotic place, found by some men while others searched, and he smiled; she gasped again, groaning, arching her back with pleasure.
She kissed him afterwards, exploring with her tongue and smiling as he responded.
"Marry me, Sara."
She rested against his chest. "I'll never marry, Grissom. I've always been a loner, never had much of a home. I wouldn't know how to begin to be married." She shifted and he moved his arm so his hand could find the place he sought.
"You know how to be a lover." He had said the word and waited, unable to breathe. He could not see her face but felt her smile against his chest.
"You are an excellent teacher."
Her comment made him laugh. "What do we do?" One or the other had asked this question before. "Does my age bother you at all?"
Sara raised her head and rested her chin in her hand. "Age? I never think about your age, or mine. Does it worry you that you are older than me?" She dropped her head. "That's nothing to worry about, Grissom."
She took his hand and kissed it, gently, before moving her lips to his chin. More troubling thoughts clouded his mind, but he pushed them to the back of his brain. "Sleep, Sara. I'm going to the last seminar. Stay here. I'll be back by noon and we will see some of Chicago." His hand played with her hair until slow, regular breathing told him she was asleep. Tonight, they would have dinner, he would take her dancing; tomorrow, they would leave—how long before they would meet again in much the same way, he wondered. He did not have answers he sought; instead, he had more questions.
Sara was dressed when he arrived back in the room. He watched her gather her coat and gloves; he never thought he would find someone like Sara. He silently laughed at his thoughts. He had given up looking until he found those brown eyes and the smile in that face.
"What?" It was a demand mixed with a laugh.
He spread his arms and she walked into them. Never, he thought, did he ever expect to find a woman like this, not at his age. He stopped his thoughts.
"Let's see some of Chicago. In the cold. Do you ice skate?"
She shook her head. "Slip and slide and fall."
The taxi driver was delighted to have paying customers on a cold day who had no agenda of getting somewhere in record time. He repaid in kind by showing them the tourist points of interest in downtown, skyscrapers with a history, museums, the library, the bridges, and homes of famous people, even slowed to point out the old Playboy mansion. By early afternoon, the two were braving the cold and snow and walking the street known as "Magnificent Mile", entering stores just to warm up before walking another half a block.
They ate pizza in a small place where ovens took up most of the space and watched as the pizza makers handled dough, spread toppings, and served the steaming pies in thick black pans. Sara was sure she had never tasted better pizza when she took her first bite of buttery crispy crust and caramelized cheeses. Warmed and filled, they headed back to the cold street.
A furniture store kept their interest longer than any other place; both surprised by similar tastes in design.
"Great minds think alike," Sara said as they flipped back in a double recliner. She pointed to a small sofa. "I like that one."
He winked and lifted an eyebrow. "I like this one." They sat side by side. "I could watch a lot of golf in this position." His voice deepened slightly. "And I can think of other things I might do."
She pulled him up, laughing at his remark but making no comment.
Grissom bought her a scarf in another store. She purchased three Chicago tee shirts for her boss, for Paula, and another co-worker. They did not have to wait for the elevator to the top of the tallest building, amazing both with the clear view of snow frosted buildings and lake. He wanted to keep a hand on her all afternoon; actually, he thought, he wanted more than hands on her. They kept walking in the cold, sunny afternoon until, hands full of bags, they returned to their room.
Okay--you got this far, leave us a review, a comment or two! Probably 3 more chapters, and concluded by Monday, maybe sooner. Thanks for reading!