8. GIBBS

Gibbs was trying very hard not to growl with frustration. It was late, the roads were clear, and they would be back at Kate's in a matter of minutes, but it felt endless.

The nervous tension in his stomach was... embarrassing.

He did not fidget, for fuck's sake. He did not second guess every touch or smile or look. And yet here he was behaving like the clueless teenager he hadn't been in decades.

The rest of their evening had been fairly pleasant, once he'd navigated through a slightly awkward few minutes of attempting to make nice with new acquaintances when what he'd really wanted to do was drag Kate outside and make out in the car. For starters.

Conversation was a lot easier and more comfortable with a group of people who actually knew and understood what he did, and if he hadn't been able to stop himself looking at, touching, or whispering to Kate a little more than was probably polite, well, she hadn't seemed to mind. So much for keeping this platonic. So far, trying to make himself feel bad about that was a monumental failure.

He'd been cautiously optimistic she was as interested as he was in staging a repeat performance once they had a little privacy, had in fact intended to kiss her more or less the second they were alone again. Then somehow after the meal they'd got back to the car without the opportunity arising, silence had fallen, and he didn't know how to interpret it.

He thought, he hoped, she was just biding her time until they could actually do something about it, unable or unwilling to indulge in small talk in the meantime. Given how he generally felt about small talk, he should be grateful.

He really wasn't.

He found himself glancing over at her as she drove, willing her to look his way and smile or smirk or maybe confess she couldn't wait to get him into bed - however unlikely it seemed Kate would say such a thing aloud. Anything, anything at all to reassure him the current sizzling over his skin was mutual, not a figment of his imagination.

But her eyes remained steadfastly on the road as if driving was the most important thing in her life right now.

He knew getting them home safely was a necessary requirement if he was ever gonna get to kiss her again, but God, he'd feel so much better if she gave him a sign, a tiny sign... and he hated himself for being so utterly pathetic. Surely she wanted an encore just as badly as he did. Surely, surely she wouldn't want to pretend like it had never happened.

Surely.

By the time they were back at her apartment complex, he was none the wiser. He followed her up to her apartment, trying and failing not to check out her butt as she climbed the stairs in front of him, and by the time they got inside, his usual cool, calm demeanour was on its last legs.

They stood in her living room, standing close together but not quite looking at each other, the atmosphere heavy with all the things they weren't saying.

It was a minute or two at most, but it felt like an eternity, and finally Gibbs shrugged a shoulder and decided he had nothing to lose, except perhaps the last shreds of his dignity. If he could just figure out how to tackle this...

"Uh, Kate?"

She peered up at him through her eyelashes.

On a lot of women it might seem coy, but he knew Kate well enough to be pretty sure she was just nervous. The fact it was ridiculously adorable was a side effect, not the point.

"About... what happened in the restaurant earlier..."

Trying to figure out how to apologise if he'd done something wrong while also making it clear he was absolutely one hundred percent up for a repeat if it was on the cards was the kind of verbal gymnastics he'd never been good at. He licked his lips nervously, then wanted to kick himself for being nervous at all.

At least she was, too. He really hoped it was for the same reason.

When she tilted up her head to look at him properly with those huge wide eyes, her horribly tempting mouth slightly open as if in invitation, he was suddenly sure he'd forgotten the entire English language. Guh.

It really didn't help at all that now he knew how she tasted, knew what it was like to have her body soft and surrendered against his, how she let out achingly needy sounds of pleasure as he touched and kissed her. The memory was so sharply delicious it was all he could do to keep breathing, let alone try to put one word next to another without resorting to begging.

She frowned, and he hoped it was just confusion or impatience, not anger.

"I mean, uh-"

"Gibbs?" Her voice was shaky but her eyes were dark and liquid. She stepped closer, and he swallowed hard.

"Yeah?" His own voice had suddenly gone all breathy at her nearness, the scent of her capturing him again.

She paused for a moment, searching his face, then took a deep, deliberate breath. "Kiss me."

It wasn't a request. It was a demand.

He hesitated. Did she just...? "You sure, Katie, I-?"

She huffed, glared at him. "For God's sake, Gibbs, just kiss me."

And now it sounded more like an order, her voice louder and firmer. She suddenly sounded so damn infuriated he laughed, the tension of the car ride dispersing in one relieved breath. Okay, direct it is.

It wasn't an invitation he was about to decline, and what kind of a Marine would he be if he didn't follow orders to the best of his ability? It was definitely the best one he'd received in years, if not decades.

He let her glare up at him for a couple more moments, even as he leaned closer and crowded her a little. Her breath hitched when he brought a hand up to touch her face, and he chuckled, slightly disbelieving. Good start. If he'd ever even imagined he could have this effect on her...

He ghosted his mouth along hers, kissing her as lightly as that first kiss in the restaurant, but this time he didn't restrain himself from teasing her, nipping gently at her lip, then pulling away before she could respond.

She whined - honest to God whined - and he had to close his eyes for a moment to not just throw her over his shoulder, caveman style, and carry her to her room. When he opened them again, she was reaching for him, like she had before, except this time there were no spectators, and there was nothing to stop it from getting out of hand.

He grasped her hips to pull her close and she rocked against him as they kissed again. The low groan he felt as much as heard, the feel of her hands under his jacket, her nails digging into his back, the way her body moved against him, her mouth, opening under his in invitation. Yes...

She leaned harder into him, her arms tightening around him, a desperate little sob escaping before she whispered 'Oh, please' against his lips. His control was rapidly slipping away, his body taking over. He'd needed this, needed her, for so long. Discovering she needed him too was incredible. Waiting any longer was... unthinkable.

His fingers tangled in her hair, then slid down her spine to caress her backside, and hers found their way to the skin of his stomach. His gasp prompted a chuckle of triumph from her and he narrowed his eyes in mock rebuke before grinning and bending to swallow the laughter, which quickly turned to a moan. She shuddered, wound her hands into the fabric of his shirt as if she needed help staying upright, and he grasped her waist to hold her steady.

There was a voice in his head muttering something about bad timing, this wasn't a sprint, maybe they had things to talk about first, but it was so very easy to ignore it when the rest of him was overwhelmed with Kate, with how she felt and smelled and wanted him.

Fuck. She was addictive and it was doing things to his brain, enthralling him in a way he'd all but forgotten was possible. He was going to press her against the wall and take her right there if he didn't do something, and that was not, he insisted to himself, how he wanted their first time to be.

He summoned all his self control and managed to pull away a fraction, moved to kiss her jawline, nibbled the side of her neck, then buried his nose in her hair, enjoying the closeness, her warmth and scent, trying to get enough control over his legs he might be able to walk somewhere... maybe, he hoped and prayed, as far as her bed.

For a few minutes they just stood there. Gibbs attempted to get his breath back, with marginal success. Trying to recover his presence of mind was a lost cause.

"Satisfied?" he finally managed to ask. Even to his own ears, he sounded decidedly pleased with himself, but he figured it was excusable. His brain was about ready to melt out his ears, but he had Kate Todd in his arms. He'd defy anyone not to be at least a little smug in this situation.

He could feel her smile against his neck, her breaths coming shallow and rapid, her heartbeat a hard, fast thrum that mirrored his own.

Her laugh was husky and breathless, and when she looked up at him, there was a mischievous glint in her eyes that promised all kinds of trouble, in the best possible way.

"Satisfied?" She grinned wickedly and shook her head. "Not even close, Gibbs. Not even close."