Private Fantasies Chapter 2
Sara was the first to giggle; her hand covered her mouth. Grissom chuckled.
"What on earth brought that about?" Sara asked.
Grissom's fingertips moved along her thigh again. "You."
"Me!" Laughter pealed from her throat as her hand moved to his. She shot a quick glance at him. He was watching the street ahead of them but his little finger had reached the fold of her pants. She did not want him to know how excited she was, how his look and touch had pushed her into an automatic sexual response—in an instant he would feel the dampness. She moved his hand toward her knee.
He grinned as she sped through a yellow light and in ten minutes, neither saying a word, they arrived at the building housing their new home. They had found a renovated warehouse-condominiums building that met their joint needs for a home. It was spacious, near work, and its neighborhood provided a degree of privacy the two desired.
The private garage had been a major selling point after they had looked at dozens of houses, townhouses, and condos and lofts; Sara hit the remote as soon as she turned into the access drive. There had been no need to discuss where they were going—privacy was what both wanted—and Sara knew she would explode if she had to sit through a breakfast of small talk—even for Greg she would not postpone the passion she had seen in Grissom's eyes.
For all practical purposes, they lived together—most of the time. Sara still maintained a small apartment a few blocks away, kept it sparsely furnished, had her mail delivered there in spite of Grissom's regular plea for her to move all of her things into their new home. But on more than one occasion, she had retreated to her private space, unwilling or unable to make the final decision to make her home with the man she loved.
Today, as talk of fantasies turned to a knee-weakening warmth as smoldering eyes watched her, Sara had almost visibly trembled with excitement. Before the car rolled to a stop, before the garage door closed securely, Grissom had pressed both seat belt releases and opened his door. In seconds, he was opening her door, extending a hand to bring her out of the car. He pulled her closer and covered her mouth. Heat, searing and intense, swept through her.
Sara's hands tightened around his shoulders; fingers combed into his hair. He slid one hand down her back to the place where the curve of her hips began and pressed her into the intimate space created between his legs. The position allowed him to feel the softness of her stomach against his erection and a hot ache filled his lower body.
Sara would have lost her balance if Grissom had not held her tightly as he deepened the kiss. The time came when neither could breathe, and lips broke away while they sucked in air but they did not release their tangled hug. As happened in the lab there continued to be a seductive, invisible excitement between them.
Grissom's hand left her back, found Sara's hand and slowly backed to the door of their house, leading her but never taking his eyes from hers. Inside the house, in the back entrance hallway, standing between recycling bins and a coat rack, Grissom wrapped warm fingers around her neck and brought his mouth to hover just above hers.
"I must confess I was a little caught up in the moment back in the lab," he whispered. He kissed her again in a way that rekindled the hot euphoric feelings of earlier. She clamped fingers around his neck, opened her mouth and deepened the kiss. When she felt his tongue slide along her lower lip she shuddered with stimulating pleasure.
His hands were in her hair with such exquisitely intimacy that she trembled again. And then his mouth was on her throat and she felt the edge of his teeth against her skin. Somehow, he cradled her breast in his palm; Sara could feel the heat of his hand through the fabric of her shirt.
She moaned softly, moving hands around his neck, sliding fingers into his hair, breathing in his unique, clean scent. She dampened her lips with the tip of her tongue as he kissed her again. Her palms held his head tightly as she pulled their lips together and heard a low, hungry groan deep in his chest as his mouth closed over hers.
His reaction was to crowd against her until she was pressed between his aroused body and a cabinet with a grip that seemed to keep them fastened to earth.
"Sara," he breathed her name. His thumb touched her cheek in the delicate way he had of handling a rare butterfly. "You are beautiful."
…Greg slid into the booth leaving the outside for Warrick and Nick; Catherine was already signaling for coffee, holding up six fingers.
"Only four," Greg said. "Sara has an appointment—and Grissom…"
"Hey, birthday boy!" Warrick joined Catherine and Nick settled into the space beside Greg.
"Some fantasy!" Nick laughed. "Breakfast where we eat two hundred times a year! Where's Sara?"
"Appointment," Greg mumbled.
Coffee arrived and talk turned to the menu and food and the plate of toast that arrived with coffee. Greg laughed and told jokes and tolerated, with his usual good humor, the kidding and gags of the others. A candle arrived on top of his pancakes along with three waitresses who sang an off-key rendition of "Happy Birthday," as Nick gave Greg's phone number to the oldest waitress.
As they left, Catherine pulled Greg into a hug. "Sorry the big man didn't make it for your birthday fantasy, Greg."
"Ah, you know how Grissom is—probably thought he'd have to pay," Greg laughed.
A/N: This is a short story-tomorrow, last chapter, just a little peep in the keyhole of Sara and Grissom's private life! Thanks for reviewing!