DOWNPOUR

Chapter Two

A/N: Hey! I know you're reading...press the button and tell me, please? Tell me what you think?

CSI/GSR Smut/Romance/Humor. Grissom and Sara get caught in the rain.

Luckily the Denali was only a few yards away. The cold and wet had gone into their bones and Grissom took little time to start the engine and blast warm air in the cabin. Then he turned and looked at Sara, really looked at her for the first time...in ages. Sara was pulling her long fingers through her strands of hair, leaning forward to get the heat into her scalp. Her chestnut hair was curling more and more by the minute, replacing that drab ironed out look with natural beauty. She didn't notice Grissom's attentive look for a long time, then glanced at him.

"Are we going? Back to the lab?" she asked easily, matching his regard with a steady look into his eyes. Her eyes softened when she saw his longing.

"No." His voice was steady as well. "I don't want to go back to the lab."

Now that was something she never expected to hear from his lips, those perfectly formed and enticing lips, she thought hazily, trying but failing to stop a longing glance at the lips in question. Her heart thawed.

Grissom was mesmerized by the look of her in the dimness, lit softly by the dashboard lights, combing her fingers through her hair as he had longed to do so many times...her look of steady determination, her honey-dark eyes, the inquiring arch of that delicate eyebrow, her oval face, her...everything about her was just so...beautiful. Beauty, Grissom, remember? echoed in his mind. His eyes were drawn to her lips. Then back to her eyes. Again and again. Just a quick movement across the distance, a tilt of the head, and their lips would be joined...at last.

He'd never stopped admiring her; the perfection of her skin, her lean lines, her quick mind, her symmetrical perfection ..he wouldn't be a man if he didn't, along with most of the lab. Her spitfire nature could be arousing as well, even if he was the recipient of her withering words, her cutting remarks and reproaches. He just wanted to kiss the sarcasm from her mouth, kiss away all the anger and resentment, though he knew he was the cause of it.

"I don't ever want to go back to the lab," Grissom said, without thinking. The words just came out, easily, naturally, for once. "I want to...I want to make things right, between us, again." The last was said with a deepened tone of regret and sorrow.

"What...what are you saying, Grissom?" Sara's bruised heart could not dare to hope, not yet, not yet.

"I want to get you out of those wet clothes," he answered, unthinking of the double meaning.

Sara snickered. Grissom backtracked. "I mean...uh..."

"I know what you mean," she said with a smirk. "I'd like to get you out of those wet clothes as well." There was no mistaking her meaning at that. Her face changed, growing more determined, more confident, more in control of the situation than she had felt since that disastrous dinner invitation, years before. Grissom sucked in a breath and sat back. They looked at each other, both thinking hard.

Sara sneezed.

Grissom sprang into action, buckling his belt, shifting into gear and speeding away across the dark wet desert. Sara grabbed the door handle and fumbled into her seatbelt as well, smiling to herself.

"My place is closer," he said at last, as if picking up the thread of a conversation. "I'm sure I have...sweats or something you can change into."

"Take me home, Grissom. My home...I can throw our things in the washer."

Grissom shot her a look from the corner of his eye, saw her confident expression, and agreed with a silent nod. In minutes, it seemed, they were nearing the bright lights of the big city, then turning away to the nice suburbia that contained Sara's apartment. The two homes were not far apart- Sara had made sure of that when she first moved to Vegas. Of course his was a roomy townhouse and hers a humble apartment, but they were both comfortable to their inhabitants, a welcomed sanctuary of private space.

Grissom pulled into a parking space and killed the engine. Sara timidly patted the hand resting on his knee.

"Thank you," she said in a shy voice. Grissom gave her a tiny smile and crinkled his eyes. They hurried indoors, the rain still pouring down on them.

Sara unlocked the door with shaky hands, fumbling and planning with desperate thoughts how to keep her elusive entomologist from running away with her feelings again. Time for desperate measures, she thought. Whatever it takes. Commence Operation Seduce Grissom, she smirked to herself.

"I'll start some coffee," she stated, striding away and leaving Grissom to enter and look around his surroundings. Get his bearings. Her movements were quick and practiced and the water was dripping into the carafe in a few seconds. The aroma was welcoming.

She turned to see Grissom frozen in place, looking uncertain. He had taken only a single step inside and his face was full of doubt. He hadn't even closed the door.

Sara smirked and reached behind him, brushing his arm with her body lightly. She was pleased to feel his body respond with a shiver, his hands rising and then stopping. The click of the door seemed to rouse him from his thoughts.

"I...I don't want to get your floor all wet," he said hesitantly.

"No worries. I already have," she answered, pointing to the wet footprints. Without another word she crouched and began to unlace her boots while Grissom admired her easy grace and the curve of that long sinuous back. She unzipped her jacket as she stood, leaving it to drip from a hook and slipping off the sopping boots and placing them neatly by the door, Grissom watching all the while.

She turned and looked at him, still in his sodden clothes, his hair curly and dark from the rain. He looked a little lost, she thought, and seemed ready to turn and bolt if startled. Sara slid her hand down the same arm and grasped his hand, tugging him further into the apartment. He followed obediently. She turned him to her and sensuously slid the zipper of his windbreaker down, pushing the sleeves from his arms and letting it drop in a heap behind him. She crouched again and unlaced and removed his boots, tugging on the laces that were swollen and stubborn with the rain. Still kneeling, she looked slowly up the length of his body, pausing at the crotch, which was conspicuously bulging. It would be easy to reach up and free that erection, stroke him and slide it into her welcoming mouth, but she knew he needed to make the decision himself. He would yield, but might doubt his surrender later, maybe push her away and that couldn't happen. Not now. Not with everything falling into place. Not with his eyes on her, his expression open and lusting. Last chance. My last best chance.

Then she stood and stepped back and regarded him, a trace of nerves making her tremble. She felt the importance of this moment, a fear of doing the wrong thing or saying the wrong words to spoil what could be a turning point in their relationship. A shaky breath, in and out, and then her trembling fingernails lightly brushed the soft skin of his cheek and slid down his bearded chin. His eyes widened and a hesitant hand grasped hers and squeezed it. They both sucked in a breath, nothing in their eyes but a hesitant desire.

With a step back and a steadying breath she drew her trembling hands to the buttons of her black shirt, undoing them one by one with an ease she did not feel, never looking away from those longing eyes. He was still but his mind was whirling. When her shirt was open to the waist he sucked in a breath and hesitantly spoke.

"Sara."

She pulled her shirt untucked and undid her cuffs. Sara let it fall open, her eyes imploring and soft.

"Sara, don't." His mind was screaming, his body responding. At war with himself. "Sara, no. It's..."

"It's what, Grissom?" Sara demanded. "Tell me...tell me what I'm doing...what is happening here...tell me... what I do to you." He sucked in a breath and his mouth dropped open, eyes wide with...fear, maybe? Sara shifted to stand on one leg and then the other, sliding off her wet socks and tossing them behind him, then stood with her shoulders back and down, arching her back a little to emphasize the perfection of her rounded breasts held securely in a black lace bra. When he said nothing else her hands resumed the careful removal of her clothing, shedding her shirt and then reaching behind to unhook her bra.

Grissom stirred at that and stepped closer, his eyes drawn to her flawless skin, the dimple of her belly button, the smooth creaminess of her skin drawing him in. A hesitant hand reached out and stilled her movements.

"Sara. Please. Please stop..." he begged. "I...I...don't..."

"No, Grissom. I won't stop. I have to...have to know. If I have a chance." Her voice dropped and deepened. "Do I?"

"Do you what?"

"Do I have...? A chance? A hope that...you feel the same? That you desire me?" Her slender fingers reached behind again, this time unhooking the bra. She dropped her hands and twitched a shoulder, making the strap slide down her arm and the cup fall away from one perfect breast. Her arm slid across her body and removed the other strap, pulling it off and letting it drop at their feet.

Her eyes were fiery, daring and bold. Daring him. Taunting him. Sara's nipples were puckered and pinched with cold, a light pink blush spreading upwards from them to her long neck and reddening her cheeks. She forced herself to stand still and wait for the decision to be made. Though she longed to close the distance between them and encircle his waist and shoulders with her arms, longed to kiss him senseless, stroke him with clever fingers–she would wait. And wait some more.

Grissom cleared his throat, trying to take back the control that had shifted to her. He had to say something, fast, before this went too far, too fast...

"I'm not...I don't..."

"What?" Now she was angry, on the brink of humiliating herself, feeling exposed...her lips drew into a thin line, eyes hardened, and so she stepped forward until her chest was a hair's breadth from his, both chests heaving with emotion and uncertainty. She bent her head, leaned forward, and blew a warm breath in his ear, noting with delight the shiver that resulted, the goosebumps that were sprinkled down his sturdy neck. Sara moved her mouth there and gently licked the smooth skin of his throat and neck. She drew the flesh in between her lips and nibbled it gently, caressingly, and touched her tongue to the dancing pulsepoint throbbing in his neck. His breath caught and seized. A deep moan escaped, despite a conscious attempt to choke it in his throat.

His heart pounded in his chest, threatening to burst from aching ribs. He felt both numb and blindingly aware of the beauty offered to him, so willing and warm. As warm as her lips felt dancing across his vulnerable throat.

Sara released the skin of his neck and stepped back again. Her eyes were dark and confident again. Challenging. There was no doubt that her touch had awakened the man before her. His baggy pants tented with a hardness that longed to be freed. He licked his lips. Drew a thumb across them. His eyes were wide.

Again her hands moved to herself, this time slowly and teasingly opening the button of her wet sticky jeans, then slowly drawing down the zipper. A foot moved forward to steady herself as she shimmied her hips and pushed the sodden trousers to the floor. She stepped out of them with one movement of her slender long leg. And slid warm hands down the length of her body, stroked herself once, twice, then Sara hooked her fingers in her simple black undies before daring another look in this man's face. His jaw was set, eyes approaching anger and lips in a thin line. The bottom lip pushed out in an endearing pout, undermining his expression of determination.

"Sara." His voice was rough. "Sara. Stop."

She froze. This is it. Time seemed to stop.

The black against that creamy skin gave a startling contrast. There she stood, taunting him with her flawless beauty, offering paradise without a word spoken. Could he? Could he shatter this moment? Break her heart...again? Refuse her? No. Not again. Not ever again.

Grissom stirred and squared his shoulders with determination. He could not let her down again. He'd loved her for so long, so many aching lonely years, read her signals, treasured her every touch and soft word, responded to every soft doe-eyed look with a tender-eyed look of his own, played with her heart for the last time. It was time.

Grissom's hands rose and cupped her face. He stepped into her inner circle and caressed her cheeks with such reverence that she trembled. Her heart swelled and beat with a firmness like jungle drums. He was coming closer. Hope soared. He was looking at her lips again, agonized doubt visibly choked off; he looked at her lips with adoration. And drew her mouth to his for a single, heart-stoppingly aching, tender, soft, sweet, perfect kiss. Sara melted like chocolate. Her sweet tongue darted out and touched his yielding lips, and they both moaned. His mouth welcomed her swirling, exploring tongue, squeezing it between his hot lips and sucking gently.

Sara gasped. As many times as she had dreamed and day dreamed this moment, the emotions awakened and the perfection of how their lips fit was beyond description. Beyond words. There was nothing, no one, nothing to compare it to. The kiss deepened naturally, without effort or thought, a maelstorm of deeply buried desires roaring up from their hearts and out their mouths into the one of their partner's. There was no turning back. No doubt lingered.

Grissom swept her into his brawny arms, sliding his hands with thanksgiving across that skin, that silken, welcoming skin. She was warm and wonderful and real. This was real. Really happening. His conscious thought twitched to a last stumbling awareness.

"Sara? Are...are you sure? Really sure?"

"Yes, Gil." He shivered at her use of his given name, in her throaty purr a seduction in itself. Yes. Yes. Yes.

His arms grasped her by the hips and lifted. Like a moth she rose, tender and soft and compliant, jumping without hesitation into his arms, her legs encircling his hips and locking around his back. She tightened and thrust into the feel of that hard cock, that stiff cock that twitched in anticipation.

"Where...?" he asked desperately, breathlessly.

She pointed with a tilt of the head to a closed door down the narrow hallway. A chink of daylight shone from under the door, welcoming and inviting.

Grissom staggered in the direction of that sunlight as his mouth fell to hers again, pushing itself powerfully to hers, demanding and seeking her to yield. She did, with a sigh of satisfaction, letting her mouth open and welcome his seeking tongue, sucking it avidly. Warm and wet. With a sweet promise of what was to come.

The phone rang.

TBC

A/N: Ooh, ain't I mean? Tease! I'm having too much fun with this story, and this chapter is getting too long...more to come! hee hee