Chapter Six

"Sara."

His comment brought her eyes up to meet his, then she jerked her hand away and moved to turn off the lights and blow out the candles. When there was only one light left on that illuminated from the bathroom, she climbed up onto the bed and turned her back to him as she lay facing the wall. He took a deep breath and moved to the other side, lying on his back next to her. His mind was a combination of turning numb and speeding up to the point of buzzing. He couldn't get his logic under control. The more he would turn his head and look at her unruly curls that fell below the collar of his shirt, the more his rules that kept him on this side of the bed were becoming indistinguishable. He reached up and ran his hand over his eyes, then back over his hair. Frustration was beginning to flow through his veins.

Dammit! Was she or wasn't she just lying on top of him, inviting him to do things to her that he had long thought about, but tried not to dwell on. And wasn't that them who only fifteen or twenty minutes ago were laughing at one another's antics? He closed his eyes and decided he would simply zone out of this scenario—and zone out on her. He was good at that, wasn't he? Hell, he was a grown man! How hard could it be to lie next to a woman and go to sleep? A woman wearing his shirt; a woman wearing "nothing" but his shirt; a woman with the softest hair imaginable; a woman. . .

He lifted himself up on elbow and looked down at her, knowing there was no way he was going to go to sleep in this condition. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he could "stay in his pants" in this condition. And what was "she" doing? Just laying there as if she were sleeping with her kid sister. "Well, I'm not her damned kid sister!" he thought as he stared at the back of her head.

He wasn't entirely aware of the moment that he put his hand on her shoulder and pressed her onto her back. He "was" aware of those chocolate eyes that looked up at him.

"What now?" she asked a bit sarcastically. "Do you want to quote more Hitchcock?"

His smile tugged at his lips as he glanced away from her, then back again. "No. I was more in the mood for liver, fava beans and a nice Chianti."

She stared at him a long moment, then couldn't seem to stop the giggle that escaped her despite her best efforts to remain angry. "Grissom—is that your attempt at talking dirty to me? Telling me that you want to "eat" someone to go with the fava beans and Chianti?"

"I thought it was a rather artful try." His smile eased the tension from his face as he watched her.

"Well, I don't have any fava beans or Chianti, but. . ."

"Don't be technical."

He casually watched his hand as he slowly opened a button on the shirt she was wearing, then another and another. As he spread the shirt open enough to expose her from her throat down to the very bottom of her abdomen while still covering the edges of her breasts, he could see her diaphragm moving in short jerky breaths. When he looked back up at her face, he saw the trepidation in her eyes.

"But, I thought. . ."

"Stop thinking," he whispered as he leaned close to her and touched his lips to hers.

When there was no response to his kiss, he pulled back to look at her again; to question if perhaps she had changed her mind, but he got no farther than two inches away and she reached for him and pulled him to her. When her lips met his and he felt her tongue dart into his mouth, he moaned deeply. Her kiss was sending him on a roll of desire like he had never experienced from a single kiss before. He didn't know who initiated it, because his only concern was to feel the softness of the body beneath him. His hands were everywhere. He was touching her face, her throat, her neck, as his tongue danced with hers. Her kiss was an anecdote to a loneliness he had been living with for years. Her kiss was hungry and seething with her need and he wanted nothing more than to feed that hunger. He lowered his touch to the shirt still clinging to her body and he shoved it over her shoulders, moving onto his back as he pulled her on top of him so he could remove it completely and let his touch move down over her, memorizing the texture of her softness as her back curved and became the luscious globes he had been sneaking glances of since he met her.

At first her touch was tentative, almost afraid, as if she thought perhaps if she pushed too hard or too fast he might run away. But he was in no position to run anymore and as she clung to his neck to continue the kisses that was fueling the fire of their desire he could feel her leg slip between his and come in contact with his groin. He felt, as well as heard, her whimper when her hip came in contact with his throbbing erection and soon her hands were traveling down over his chest, in a hurry to get to the top of his jeans. He allowed her to fumble with the button for nearly a minute as he continued to feed on her lips, then when she pulled away so she could look at what she was doing, he moved his kiss to her neck and shoulder and finally on to her amazing breast as he moved it to his mouth and began to suckle and caress and lick the area. Her movements stopped immediately as she moved one hand to his head and tried to cradle him to her then after a moment she went back to try to open his pants. Frustration sounded in every sound that escaped her throat until he pulled away from her and looked down at her hands, brushed them away and opened his pants by himself. He watched her as she moved onto her haunches and her eyes darted from what he was doing with his hands back to his face and back again. The expectancy in her face was as much a turn on as anything she had done so far. He could see that she was having a hard time stopping herself from grabbing the pants and yanking them off of him, so he didn't hesitate to pull the zipper down and press them over his erection that bobbed to life upon its freedom. Once it was free from any danger of getting caught in his zipper, she was grabbing onto his jeans and pulling them from his legs. She hurried back to his side, but he held her back by her forearms and took in the sight of her.

"Jesus," he whispered, more to himself than to her.

"Don't stop now," she whispered back with disappointment beginning to mount.

He pulled her to him before he could see a moment more of her anxiety and he rolled over until he was halfway on top of her. Their hands began their investigation again, each eager to feel areas that they had only fantasized about up to this point, but the urgency was becoming too strong and he knew he had to move forward or their "touching" would send him over the edge too soon.

He positioned himself between those long legs, then started to push inside her opening. The sensation was exquisite and he had to close his eyes to keep from coming immediately. Her tightness was savored and as he slowly started to move within her, she moaned with each stroke. He lifted his kiss from her and looked down into her face.

"You alright?" he asked as he continued what he was doing.

She gave him a quick affirmative nod as she bit onto her lip, then added, "You're size."

"My size?" he questioned, his immediate thought being that he wasn't what she had expected or hoped.

"Big—very big—wonderfully big."

He smiled briefly then immediately started kissing that beautiful mouth of hers again. His tongue outlined the gap between her teeth that he had always wondered about and the realization that he was finally able to do that sent chills through him. His need was overwhelming him and he pulled her against him tightly when he heard her call out his name, while simultaneously he could feel her core squeezing him in spasms. He couldn't hold back any longer and the explosion rocked him, leaving him breathless as he lay on top of her with his head nestled against her shoulder and her arms around him. When he was able, he lifted his head and looked down at her, searching her face for any signs of what was to happen next, but she seemed almost as shocked as he felt. He chuckled and rolled onto his side, pulling her with him as he lifted her top leg over his hip, then put his arm around her. He didn't know which he found funnier, the fact that it was a discussion about serial killers that sent them on such a passionate interlude, or the fact that he had jumped so readily through the hoop of fire that he had been running from for years—and was ready to jump through it again and again.