Shopping for Sara

Chapter 4

Pain and Passion

As he smoothed a new comforter over the bed, Grissom did not want to think about the last time he has shopped for a bed—his mother had been with him. Today he was the one who had left Sara sleeping—in her bed—to meet the delivery of a new king-size bed at his condo. He had also purchased new sheets, new pillows, and a new bedspread.

His hand wiped his face as he surveyed his work. It looked nothing like Sara's bedroom but this was his place. His place—not for the first time he thought about suggesting a move, but somehow he knew she would reject his proposal of joining their belongings. As much as he hated to admit, both of them needed time and space to grow into a couple.

The phone buzzed; he answered knowing the caller before he checked.

"Hey," he said, his voice unusually soft.

"You left me."

Warmth spread throughout his body with her words. "I'll bring dinner—Chinese." He knew she stretched by the quiet hum in her voice. "Just stay right where you are—don't move."

She giggled. "Hurry."

Of course Sara moved. She brushed her teeth, changed from a t-shirt to a short silky gold-colored gown, which matched her painted fingernail, and searched her underwear drawer for matching panties. Once Grissom learned she would wear sexy, and flashy colors, he had purchased a dozen panties for her, but finding none that matched, she left herself bare. She knew he would love the look of her naked butt underneath the short gown. They had been so exhausted when they had gotten in she had showered and found Grissom sound asleep. She joined him in bed and followed him in minutes, expecting him to be there when she woke. She glanced at the time while lighting candles. Chinese food would be a perfect finish for their activities.

Straightening the bedcovers, she heard the lock click and knew Grissom had arrived. She grabbed her robe and covered the short negligee, smiling as she did so. A few months ago she would never have worn something like this. She tied the pink sash and left the bedroom.

Instantly, amusement hovered at the edge of Grissom's mouth. He raised his eyebrow. "And what does this mean?"

He could read her mind. She smiled. "Food can wait."

His want for her swept through him in a wave. Quickly, the hot food went in the refrigerator and he went to her.

"Some things are more interesting than food," he said softly. He touched her lips with his; his hand cradled the back of her head gently lifting her face as he kissed her throat.

Would she always have this effect on him, he wondered. One moment his thoughts were focused on surprising her, the next he could think of nothing but the bone-deep satisfaction of having her in his arms. And he was growing accustomed to the effects of passion, he thought. Not yet understanding Sara Sidle—he knew the mystery of that quest would take him years.

Sara said his name, "Gilbert," she drew it out in a long breath. "We should hurry."

"We have time." He raised his head long enough to lose himself for an instant in the melting promise of her eyes. "Not as much as I wish." He chuckled. "There is never enough time."

Somehow her robe had opened and her hands were around his neck. His need turned into a tidal wave that flooded his senses. She was beautiful.

"Why is it," he said against her mouth, "that I cannot seem to get enough of you?"

For her answer, Sara began unbuttoning his shirt and in a moment he was bare to the waist. Her fingers brushed and fumbled with his pants as they kissed. He drew a breath to steady himself and pushed the robe from her shoulders. Her body shimmered in the gold diaphanous fabric.

Her finger touched the corner of his mouth. "When you look at me in that way, you make me feel beautiful."

"You are beautiful."

Their fingers intertwined and he led her into the bedroom where he took a few seconds to push his pants to the floor. He groaned as he lowered his head to kiss the curve of one rounded breast; an edge of lace tickled his chin as his mouth moved.

"Dear Sara, I can not wait."

Her knee came to his naked groin. Very deliberately he parted her thighs. She made a small sound when she realized how open she was to his gaze. Her hand reached out in an effort to cover herself but he caught her hand with his.

"I want to see you." He whispered as he placed his palm against the warm, pink flesh covered with soft curls. She shivered; her foot arched in response to his caress.

He leaned forward to inhale the exotic fragrance of her body. He parted the soft folds to reveal the tiny bud of her sex. Gently, he bent his head and kissed her intimately with what he hoped showed his exquisite enjoyment and approval.

Sara's fingers tightened in his hair. "Gilbert."

He ignored his name on her breathless lips and used his tongue to arouse her core, not pausing until she was wet and trembling with desire. When her nails dug into his scalp, when her hips lifted with want, he rose and quickly settled himself on top of her. He licked the taste of her from his lips as he plunged into the tight, hot, pulsating core of her body.

She convulsed, drawing him deeply inside her—so deep he thought they might become one. He began to move, aware of the sensation of extreme pleasure as he retreated. It seemed to take forever to withdraw to her entrance. An involuntary groan escaped from his lungs as he stroked, pushing himself until he was once again sunk to the hilt. A thought came to him in those seconds—she was made for him. Not just with a brain to match his, but with a body made to fit his.

Sara's muscles shuddered, quivered, drew him in as she climaxed. Seconds later, everything within him went rigid as his orgasm roared through him, a tsunami caused by the desire and passion of the woman he held.

"Gil?" Sara stirred, languorously, a dream-like quality to her voice. "It's late."

"I know." Reluctantly he shifted position to untangle himself from the bed sheets and her body. "Shower and I'll warm our food." He sat up and his feet touched the floor. "It's raining—looks like we're in for an all-nighter."

Sara sat up and fumbled to bring the crushed gown to cover her body. Grissom grinned. She gave up and lifted it over her head. Her body was rose colored from their encounter. He kept smiling as he pulled her to him.

"You are beautiful, you know." His head nodded toward the bathroom. "Get in there before we are both late."

Halfway across the room, she stopped and turned. "Where have you been? Earlier?" She asked.

Grissom smirked. "A secret—a surprise. For later." He reached for his pants as she disappeared into the bathroom.

By the time food was heated and plated, Sara was sliding onto a stool saying something about being hungry. Grissom looked up. She was truly beautiful in blue; he needed to remember that as he reached to touch her chin.

"I like your shirt," he whispered before he kissed her.

Hours later, the traumatic events surrounding a murder in a mental hospital would bring him to a crushing realization—he could not keep her safe. His moment of forgetfulness had caused injury, more psychological than physical, to the one person who held his heart.

Later, too harshly after all they had been through, he said, "You're coming home with me." Sara's face jerked up to meet his. "Please," he added.

"Of course," she nodded; quietly agreeing, confused by his abrupt tone and the fact they were in the layout room—and not alone. She glanced to her right. Sophia was at the end of the table but if she heard, she gave no indication.

Grissom's face flushed as he realized his blunder. Jamming his hands inside his pockets, he said, "It's time to go—all of us. We haven't slept in—in—I don't even know what time it is."

Sophia sighed. "I don't know if I can sleep—yes, I can. I'm going home, take a long shower, and curl up with my puppy." She carefully gathered everything in front of her into a neat stack. "This has been a traumatic shift, hasn't it?"

She stood to leave; Sara remained where she was.

"Yeah," Grissom agreed. Sophia had no knowledge of all of the events in the hospital; her eyes had not seen the terror in Sara's face as she felt the death grip of a mad man. "It has been." He waved a hand in the direction of the door. "Leave—Catherine will cover for us for twenty-four hours. We all need to sleep."

Sara's eyes met his as Sophia left the room. For the first time in hours, he recognized a glimmer of amusement in her soft brown eyes.

"Let's go home, Sara. Together. To my place—you and me. Alone—for twenty-four hours." He smiled and winked.

Fifteen minutes later, he placed hands over her eyes and guided her into his bedroom. "Keep your eyes closed for one minute."

Sara felt movement, heard sounds, and knew he was quickly removing his clothing. She giggled.

"Okay, open your eyes," Grissom said, sounding a distance from her.

The first thing she saw was the huge king-size bed, covered with a dark brown spread and pale blue sheets. Lying in the middle of the bed, she giggled—no—sprawled in a pose of a centerfold model was Gil Grissom. Naked, one knee angled, one leg stretched, his elbow bent to hold his head, and his penis growing into an erection as she laughed and crawled into the bed.

"Your surprise?" She questioned, nuzzling against him, feeling the warm heat emanating from his body.

His chuckle was at once soft, husky, sexy. "More room for you, dear. I'm tired of you leaving me after sex."

She kept her face buried against his shoulder. A bubbling giggle surfaced. "You don't have to sleep in the same bed to have sex—or to be romantic." She kissed him before pulling away. "And this is romantic—and sweet."

"Stay with me, Sara. All night—for twenty-four hours." His voice softened. "Stay—I won't suffocate you. I'll let you read with the light on." He kissed her shoulder. "And I promise not to snore."

Her giggles turned to laughter. "Oh, Gil," she whispered as she wiggled a pillow underneath her head. "Nice, very nice."

"Me or the bed?" Grissom rolled to wrap arms around her.

The sounds of their joy filled the room as she pulled off her shirt.