Author's Note: So having a bloody bad day acted as catalyst, making me throw work out the window and sit down and finish this overdue chapter (way overdue, I know!). So this one is a bit of a mix between a song fic and normal prose, I thought I would add some variety. I've really toed the rating here and be warned that it does get steamy. As always, happy reading and thank-you for the reviews from the previous chapter.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to CBS, et al. (Apart from Isabella though). This particular song belongs to Carlos Santana featuring Dave Matthews.
Translations
Hermano – Spanish for brother
Lubimiy – Russian for darling
Keeping time
"You – go workkk…" she grumbled sleepily, a hand coming up to stave off the strong rays coming through the glass sliding door. She turned around, head sinking further into the darkness of the sofa. Bumping noses with someone else beside her made her suddenly jerk awake with rising panic that she was supposed to be somewhere today. A faint knocking on the front door merely confirmed the thoughts running through her head. Damnit! She was going to be late, she thought, shifting quickly only to end up falling on the floor. Damnit! That bloody hurt!
She scrambled up to find Horatio still asleep. His light snoring filtered through sleepy haze.
And then she glanced at her watch…DAMNIT!
She ran to the door and fumbled with the locks. She threw it open, grabbed the duffel bag from Eric's hand, gave an irritable 'tsk', held 5 fingers up to him and left him standing there with an outstretched hand and a broad smile.
A stream of curses in 3 different languages ran through her head as she scampered to the bathroom to get ready.
--
A still smiling Eric shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against his boss' wall. He knew Marisol would be at least 15 minutes. She had left the door slightly ajar and he couldn't help but peek through. His boss was nowhere in sight and that seemed very unusual and rather convenient. He slipped the 'Get Well' card from the lab onto the side table along with some files that needed his approval. Eric smiled thinking their work couldn't be more of double edged sword. He leaned back, repeatedly knocking his head against the wall as thoughts of his sister and boss ran through his head: They had known each other, what? About 2 months now, maybe give or take a couple of days? No doubt Mari would know exactly how long. What really made him doubt everything was how so much had happened in such a short span of time – both good and bad. She was so close to being in remission. Her last consultation had gone well and her doctor had been very positive that they would get everything in time. He was willing to concede that Horatio had been good for her. She was happier and more positive and more importantly – confident of herself – just like the old Marisol she had been.
"Ready?" he asked, his smile reappearing as his sister tried to walk out as serenely as she could out of the house.
"Did you find my work bag?" she asked, walking quickly towards the car. He nodded.
"Enjoy mama's churros?"
"Is it possible not to?"
"How's H?" he enquired when they reached his car.
Marisol looked at him and shrugged, "He still has a temperature and his throat is pretty bad."
"No doubt you'll make him feel better."
Her brother's double entendre was not lost on her, and she gave an eye roll before slamming the car-door shut after her. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back feeling fatigued.
"Sorry Marisol." He said thinking that for once he may, just may, have taken it a bit too far.
She grinned, "No it's not you. I'm just a little tired."
The playful comment that sprang to Eric's lips was coughed down as he thought of his own tiredness.
"Everything ok l'il hermano?" she asked affectionately, waiting for the quip that never came.
Eric slowly and deliberately gunned the engine and shifted into gear, "Mari," he kept his eyes focused on the road, "Natalia and I aren't seeing each other anymore."
She tried to muster the most sincere 'Oh' that she could, given that she hadn't really liked Natalia. No, that was wrong; she seemed like a nice lady, she just didn't seem suited to Eric…Eric was….he was...Eric…Eric was just not meant to be with her.
She listened sympathetically as he told her about how the relationship had just fizzled out and how Wolfe had asked her out.
"What happened to Ryan and the other girl? The pretty one that changes hair colour a lot?"
"Valera. They're taking a break at the moment too. Apparently a pretty big fight."
There seem to be a lot of those going around these days, she thought to herself, her mind instantly thinking back of the past couple of days with Horatio. What? Was there a full moon around or something? Or were all their female hormones strangely in sync with each other?
"What about your blonde friend, Calleigh?"
"Huh? Oh Cal, she's been working late the past couple of days so maybe she and Eliot had an argument too. I'm not really sure. Since everyone has been fighting, what about you and Horatio?"
She stayed silent, "I guess it does extend to everyone then. Did he hurt you, Marisol?" he asked, his tone hard.
"No Eric, don't be silly."
Though, she was surprised that Ryan had asked Natalia out for dinner. Maybe it was to get back at Valera…but then what about that whole 'bros before hoes' line she had heard used numerous times. Not that she knew Valera to be a 'hoe'. Nor the fact that there was the 'sacred' rule about dating an ex. She asked Eric about it.
"Well we're not exactly friends are we, Mari? More like friendly competitors. Besides I said that he could."
"Wow Eric, that's pretty childish. I mean you want to make Natalia the rebound girl? The poor guy has been there over a year now. When are you going to give him a break? Horatio would never dream of anyone trying to fill Timothy Speedle's shoes, but he did need another criminalist."
"Talk about jumping ship." The bitterness was clear.
"We've done this before," she sighed, "I like Ryan, Eric. This bitterness isn't good for your job. You have to try."
They both sank into stony silence. An idea popped into Marisol's head, she would ask Eric about it later.
Eric sighed, "I told him he was 'cleared for landing'."
She rolled her eyes at their male lingo, "Well then, you can't really blame her. She probably went out with him to spite you for such a stupid comment." Marisol gave a loud sigh herself, 'We're three girls, little brother, and how you still manage to mess up…I have no idea!" This time she smiled, "I would have thought you would know all the dos and don'ts by heart after watching your three sisters do it all."
Eric chuckled, "Women are from planets much further than Pluto. Us men will never perfect the art of pleasing you."
She giggled and turned her eyes heavenwards, "Amen."
She tried to close the door as quietly as she could, only to turn around to find Horatio sitting up on the sofa, a sleepy look on his face.
She conceded a grimace, before giving a sheepish smile, "Hi. How you feeling?"
He smiled, "Hi. Feel better. I thought you ran out on me again-"
"You didn't get my message?" she asked, frowning in concern.
"I did eventually, when I remembered how to access my voicemail." She relaxed a little at his joke. "You shouldn't have let me sleep so long."
Rolling her eyes, she sat down next to him, "You needed to rest, Horatio."
He gave a smile that turned into a smirk, his head dipping down to avoid her eyes. She realised she was beginning to get irritated by that smirk of his. The smirk that said he alone knew exactly what was good for him. "Seriously, Horatio." Her firm voice, faded when she saw how hard he was trying to hold back that smirk again. "Fine." She looked at the folder in her bag and stood up.
His hand came to rest lightly on her hip to hold her back, "I'm sorry."
She took his hand in hers and sat down again, "It's fine. I get it, really."
"Really?" he asked seriously, an eyebrow going up.
She leaned in and brushed her lips against his, "Really." She let his gaze penetrate inwards, as far as he wanted to, "Now, how about I make you dinner?" she took his hands, pulling him up, with surprising strength he thought, to his feet.
"Sounds good to me."
His cell-phone began to beep. He frowned as he looked at the caller ID - 'Private'.
"Hello?"
"Horatio!"
He covered the mouth-piece, "Uh…Ah, excuse me I need to take this."
She let go of his hand, "Sure." She moved to the kitchen, hearing the warm 'Hi,' he gave as he slipped out to the veranda to take the call. She watched him through the glass partition and saw something different in him: he was smiling boyishly. Not that gorgeous, shy, boyish smile of his but rather a smile that shone through with child-like happiness, like he was talking to a child-hood friend. This was unexpected, surprising, and it made her insides turn warm and squirmy and to put it straight – happy, just plain and simple happy. It struck her as odd that she had never thought about Horatio and his friends, or lack of them. It seemed everyone looked to him as a brother, more a member of the family. Whoever was on the other end seemed to be good for him. The fatigue was gone and there was openness in his body language: No secrets. He swivelled around to meet her gaze. He smiled and she couldn't help but smile back.
She had just started to mentally put a picture together of what he would have looked like when he was younger, on the brink of leaving adolescence, the bright blue eyes that never seemed to dim. Her thinking was interrupted by her own phone ringing. Caller ID showed 'Eric'. Perfect, she thought – he couldn't have picked a better time to call about tomorrow.
"Sweetheart. Time to wake up." He rubbed her shoulders trying to wake her up.
She slapped his hand away and cursed him. She turned away, her hand pulling the pillow closer to her and her body curling further into the fetal position.
Amused but not willing to give up so easily he continued with his efforts to wake her up. He soon stopped and was contented instead to watch her sleep. He felt he had been given a chance to appreciate her natural beauty. Appreciate he did, with slivers of sunlight punctuating her body as the blinds were half done and bouncing lightly in the early morning breeze. Her face held pictures – dreams he was sure he would never have; peaceful, serene, everything his sleeping images were not. He let out a heavy sigh.
She had seemed strange and distant last night. After his phone-call with Raymond, he had come back to find her cooking an omelette and filled with nervous energy. She had picked at her food at dinner, hardly eating. Her meds had been swallowed wildly and she insisted on spending the night in his spare bedroom. He couldn't help but think that he had done something wrong in the brief conversation they had had when she came home.
Deciding to change strategy, he switched sides. He wanted her to know, to know everything he felt for her. One hand was placed under her sleeping cheek and his other hand rested around her waist as he pulled her in, his lips gently lacing into hers. It had the effect he wanted because she immediately opened her eyes and kissed him back. His tongue seductively grazed against the roof of her mouth. She pulled him down on top of her allowing him to do everything he wanted to persuade her to wake up. He held his weight above her, the lower half of his body still hanging down, inches from the floor. Her hands clenched against his collar as she let out a deep sigh, her lips connecting more fully with his.
"Enough to wake you up?" he asked. He gave her his most winning smile hoping this would make her wake up on the right side of the bed.
She felt herself get lost in his eyes and her hand moved of its own volition to the side of his mouth to caress his smile. "You're amazing." She said, raising herself up to kiss his lips briefly. She collapsed down immediately feeling weak.
"Coffee?" he asked, realising that he still didn't know how she took her coffee.
She looked away from him for a moment, her hand still on his face. She turned back to him with a tired smile, not what he had wanted to see. "Sure. But only half a mug." she said.
"Ok, then." He wondered if she'd gotten much sleep. It didn't look like she had.
He left her to get ready. She turned around onto her side watching the sun filter into the room. She was trying to relax but a wave of depression followed closely by a wave of anxiety kept sweeping through her.
"Are you sure you're ok?" He looked at her bouncing leg with concern.
"Yeah, yeah, fine, fine." she hummed along to the tune playing on the radio, her fingers drumming on the ledgers.
There had rarely been such an awkward silence between the two. He cleared his throat a couple of times, trying to think of something to say or to make her say something. She seemed to be in every other place other than the car, merely a handhold away.
She grinned as Rick Astley's 'Never gonna give you up,' came on. "Uh…can I?" she asked, gesturing to the volume dial.
"Feel free."
She turned the volume up. "You must have heard this song, Horatio."
"Yes, a long time ago."
"Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you. Never gonna make you cry, never gonna say good-bye, never gonna tell a lie and hurt you." She sang in a teasing voice to draw him out. She was happy that his fever had gone down, but he still didn't look very well…not that he would even think about it. He insisted on feeling well enough to go to work. Men were men - that hardly ever changed. When it came to the male species there was a thin line between dedication and stubbornness.
He smiled back to indulge her, not really feeling like joining in and making an idiot of himself over long-forgotten lyrics.
"Javed and I used to sing this to each other all the time." she said a little sadly, "It used to be so funny when we did it because he tried to put on the deep voice. He never pulled it off, even when he was high." She giggled at the memories.
He gave a weak smile, a little swell of jealousy rising in the pit of his stomach at the same time. He pulled up to Il Covo where she was starting her day. Rick Astley faded away on the radio.
She didn't open the door straightaway. She fumbled for some moments with her sling bag. "Are you going to be ok?"
His hands dropped from the steering wheel. He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze, "I'll be fine, Sweetheart. I promise I'll go home if I feel worse. Are you ok? You've been acting a little strange."
She tacitly ignored his question letting go of his hand and reaching up to his face to take off his sunglasses. This time he gave her a genuine smile: amazed that her taking off his sunglasses was becoming such a regular occurrence, and that each time he was powerless to resist her. Her hand rested behind his ear, stroking his hair back. "Are you sure you're ok?"
He gave her his best 'I'm puzzled' look.
"Just a feeling."
"I'm ok, Marisol." he whispered.
"Ok Sweetheart, if you say so," she mocked back not believing him for a moment. She leaned over and pecked him on the cheek, "I'll see you later, then."
She opened the door and her legs were already out the car when she felt his arm curl strongly around her waist pulling her back for a kiss that landed squarely on her lips, "I love you." he whispered between kisses.
She smiled against him wanting to reassure him, now realising how her comments about Javed may have sounded. "Me too." She tried to re-assure him as best she could with a final kiss. Hopefully he would realise it all tonight - that she was always going to be completely his.
"Hey!" she feigned surprise at seeing him as she walked into the house. Eric had mentioned to her that Horatio had gone home early again.
"Hi! I was just about to call you and ask if you wanted a ride home."
"I'm just surprised you're home." she said, kissing his cheek.
He shrugged with a smile, "Just thought I'd take you up on your advice."
She walked further into the house and saw the files in his office, on the way to the kitchen, "Well it seems like you brought your work home."
He stood right behind her as she filled herself a glass of water, "I'm sorry, Sweetheart."
She swallowed some pills down before turning around. She looked him up and down seeing that he did look rested and his work clothes were unusually crumpled. "No, I understand." She took a sip of water, a thoughtful look on her face, "Do you still have a lot more to do?"
He shook his head from side to side, "A little more."
"Ok, then we can work together then." she pulled him with his hand, leaving his other hand around her waist.
She sat on the sofa in his study while he sat down behind the desk. Her phone came out to be used before being put down on the small table. She started out by ruling lines on the ledger page. He picked up a pen and scribbled his signature across the document. She was soon buried in her work, her fingers tapping away at the calculator.
Horatio looked down at the trace report. The words on the page were swimming, his mind refusing to concentrate, instead he found his gaze wandering to her seated form and simply observing; the knot she had pulled her hair into was slowly coming down, strands escaping as the seconds ticked by. Why couldn't he keep his eyes away from her? He shuffled his papers around to bring back his focus. Staring intently at the page, some meaning began to seep into his head. He read it over a couple of times to make sure it was correct and then added his signature to the bottom.
He was coming to the end of the case-file when she stirred lightly. His head snapped up, his eyes focusing immediately on her as she tucked a leg beneath her. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he looked down again only to look up again and see her biting her lip and her forehead crease slightly as she leaned forward to check something.
She suddenly spoke, "You're very distracting Horatio Caine." there was a smile, "I don't know how women in the lab get their work done." He looked away, blushing at the fact that he had been caught peeping, so much for covert stares. He was consoled by the fact that she was distracted too. "How does taking a break sound?"
He nodded, figuring that it was unlikely he would get any work done while he was in the same room as her.
"Beach?" she asked jerking her thumb in its general direction.
"Whatever you want, Sweetheart. I just need to get a mug of coffee."
"Well then," she took his arm, "Let's get percolating."
He chuckled at her words, shaking his head as they walked to the kitchen.
Her phone vibrated and she stepped away from him to take the call, motioning him to carry on without her. She lowered her tone, "Hi Bella."
"Mari, how much longer are you guys gonna be? It's going to be ruined if you don't get out soon."
"Ten minutes, promise. Then you guys do what you have to do." She listened to Eric's comments in the background, "Thanks guys, I appreciate it. I really do."
"Mari, don't worry, we're going to call it in soon." Isabella giggled at something Eric had mumbled. "Ok now, hurry up Marisol."
"Ciao," murmured Marisol before hanging up.
She entered the kitchen relieved to see the coffee almost ready. He noticed her stare, "Everything ok?"
"Hmm? Yeah, fine, just a friend on the line. I didn't recognise the number, so thought it was work." He picked up the jug and poured the thick black coffee into a mug. "Cubano huh?" she asked with a smile.
He smiled to himself as he poured, "On certain days I'm absolutely hooked onto it. No thanks to your brother for that."
"What can I say?" she giggled following him to the veranda, "Misguided...my brother…the plan to take over the world with café cubano." she commented conspiratorially.
They kicked off their footwear before walking out into the cool evening. He looked at her bare shoulders, "Do you want to wrap up."
"No I'll be fine. Do you want to put something on?" she put her hand against his head to feel his temperature.
"No I'll be fine." He teased back, taking her hand and leading her onto the beach.
It was twilight and they both walked in silence, each leading the other intermittently from sinking sands near the water to firmer footing near the palms. After 20 minutes or so, she sat down and patted the spot next to her. He carefully put his half-empty coffee mug on a raised mount of sand.
"That bad a day at work?" he asked, allowing her to lean into him, wondering at the reason for her long silence.
She fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt, "No, not really. What about you?"
"A couple of new cases. It's mainly the paperwork that has piled up."
"Oh, the paperwork that haunts, huh?"
"You bet. It is the bane of my professional life. It just never goes away." The arm around her shoulders pulled her closer into him, "I bet paperwork makes your day."
She laughed, "As an accountant: it always does. As a human being, it drives me nuts sometimes."
He laughed with her. Turning his gaze to the view in front of him, she said the words he was thinking; how beautiful it all was. He couldn't remember being on the beach during sunset in recent times. He found himself unable to control the thumb now stroking her lips.
"You're cold."
"Ya don't say genius." She snuggled up to him, "Maybe I should have listened to you."
"Maybe?" he asked a hint of cockiness in his voice. He felt her tickling him in response and squirmed away as her fingers travelled over his scar through the thin fabric. "Sorry, you're out of luck. I'm not ticklish."
"That's just very convenient," she muttered, "Who isn't ticklish? Besides you just became squirmy."
He laughed again. Silence crept over the pair.
"Horatio. I think I'll go home tomorrow. Eric said my apartment was released today."
"Oh." He breathed in, "You know I've loved having you." He wondered if it had to do with yesterday and waited for her to say something and when she didn't, he just had to ask, "It's not me, is it?"
She raised her head off his chest to look at him in the fast disappearing twilight. He saw the same look that she had on when he had offered her to come stay at his place, "Of course it's not you! I don't want to impose on you anymore." She remembered that smirk of his, "I know it must be hard to live with someone when you haven't done so for a long time."
"Marisol, you're not imposing," he sighed impatiently, "You were never imposing. I wanted to you here."
"You can't always protect me like this, you know." she commented quietly.
"I know," he said in a hushed, resigned tone. He knew she was right. He was being selfish. She pulled him closer for a kiss. Her hand slipped under his shirt, moulding his warm flesh.
"Ma'am this is bordering on indecent exposure." he whispered huskily as she straddled him to kiss him.
"It's all about living dangerous Lieutenant," she kissed his neck, her hands moving against his now-exposed chest.
Conversation begin to drift in their direction; a child's laughter and a parent's teasing voice were becoming louder.
She immediately stopped kissing him and rolled off him. They both laughed at the interruption.
As they climbed up the stairs from the beach, Horatio heard a car pull out nearby. Probably someone from the lab, he thought, reaching for his phone.
"Something wrong?" she asked, noticing his frown. She desperately hoped he was not getting called out to a crime scene.
"I'm not sure yet. Hang on for a second, ok?" He checked his phone. That was strange, he thought, no messages or calls. He looked into the dark house, "I'm pretty sure I left a couple of lights on."
IDIOTS! Marisol found herself holding her breath while she waited for him to make a connection. She felt a giggle rise up as she watched him creep quietly to the door, listening intently for intruders. She wanted to laugh now, and turned away from him to smile to herself. He noticed that she wasn't close behind him. "Marisol -," he whispered. He was going to warn her when she turned around to him with a broad smile. He had the feeling that something was very wrong.
"That was so funny." She walked past him, slid the door open and pulled him inside.
"Surprise!" she called.
The confused look on his face disappeared as he surveyed the front room: his coffee table was set for two. Two big cushions, that weren't his, served as chairs. The smell of something spicy and tantalising drifted from the kitchen, making his stomach realise he hadn't eaten in hours. "How do you always do it?"
"Do what?"
"Make me love you more than I should."
"So you like it?"
Sweetheart, it's wonderful. Remind me to thank your little helpers. I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything. Tonight is all about you. I'll just give you ten minutes to get ready."
"Can you be ready in ten?"
"I'll bet you a surprise if I'm not."
He laughed, "Your loss. I look forward to receiving your surprise then. Although," he gestured to the scene before them, "This is a wonderful surprise. Thank-you."
"Like I said Lubimiy, tonight is all about you."
"You know you still haven't told me what that means."
"Darling in Russian. Or at least that's as close as it gets to English." she said taking his hand and kissing his palm. He shook his head, bemused but touched by the view he was presented with. It explained so much about her erratic behaviour over the past couple of hours. It really did seem to perfect, he thought naively, but then he remembered how they got here in the first place and realised that it wasn't that perfect at all.
He was uncorking some wine when he heard her heels tapping towards him. He turned around. Was it possible that the only thought going through his head right now was that he wanted to ravish her? To physically find that love he seemed to have for her. He could practically smell the pheromones of her sex appeal. Not surprising given the lack of skin the sexy black number she was wearing covered, her every pore was practically oozing it. And yet it was hard to imagine her in any other clothes apart from what she was standing in. She seemed so suited to the dress, almost as if it were a natural part of her; sexy, charming and very Marisol-like.
She saw his face, "You might want to put the corkscrew down before you hurt yourself, Horatio." she said glibly, her arms crossing against her chest, an eyebrow arched waiting for him to respond.
He blinked a couple of times to make sure that what he was really seeing was what he was really seeing. He swallowed quickly, remembering what he was about to say, "You're ninety-five seconds late, Marisol."
"You're such an idiot sometimes," she smiled, "Which woman ever gets ready in ten minutes?" she sidled closer to him, hips swaying, "Or, ever keeps her promises about time?" She was close enough to hear him breathe now, one more step, "Or, did it ever occur to you that I did want to lose this particular deal?" she pulled his lower lip out in a teasing kiss. "Breathe Lubimiy," she reminded with a whisper, before smartly clicking away into the kitchen.
She walked out holding the large dish with an oven mitt, "Horatio, how long does it take to open…" The rest of her question about the wine died on her lips when she saw he was nowhere in sight. Now what could have possibly happened?
She saw him come out with a different coloured shirt and a hastily knotted tie. "Horatio, what on earth? I was serious about this being all about you."
"I was feeling a little under dressed." he remarked.
"And what part of 'me wanting to make you relax,' don't you get?"
She gave his tie her full attention, carefully unknotting it. His hands were on top of hers trying to stop her. It wasn't a matter of brute force here, but perseverance.
"Relax!" she commanded, pulling the tie down sharply and choking him. "Although, you do look sexy in one." It was only when she kissed him that his hands loosened. Control was ebbing away as he took her into his arms feeling the sheer, silky black material slither and fold into his grasp. It wasn't rocket science to feel that she was wearing nothing on her upper body apart from the sleek, black material, to feel the hardened nubs of her breasts against his heaving chest.
This time she was the one in control. "I think dinner is getting cold."
"I agree," he replied taking her hand and leading her towards the cushions.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The evening was enjoyable, amusing and romantic. There were long moments of silence between them, allowing their attraction to build to static tension relieved by the casual brushing of fingertips as they connected - sparks flying, the circuit complete.
"So this surprise?" he asked as they cleared the coffee table.
"It's a dance." she said quietly, not looking at him.
He felt his heart begin to pound, knowing what the dance would be. Honoured it would be that dance. She left with the last of the plates. He shifted the coffee table and cushions to create some space to dance in. His attention focused on the hi-fi system, his fingers ran up and down the CD tower trying to decide. He was in the mood for some guitar, he wondered if she was too. The CD cover for Santana's 'Supernatural', caught his eye, the blend of colour and image, instantly reminding him of Marisol.
"Nice pick." she commented entering the lounge again. He opened his arms, positioning them into a frame to hold her.
"Marisol?"
"Uh-huh."
"Why don't you rumba?"
"What?"
"Why don't you rumba? It's something Isabella mentioned."
Trust Bella to bring up something like this, she thought to herself. She wondered how she could possibly explain to him the reason. Well she could explain, it was really a matter of did she want to explain it to him. "You sure you want to know?" she asked stalling for time. "Some surprise if you already guessed the surprise." He heard the hint of disappointment.
"I'm still surprised and fascinated to have a gorgeous woman like you in my arms tonight." he cooed, twirling her around. "Most of all," His fingers curved her waist, pulling her in sharply, "I can't believe you love me this much. To share this and your love with me is the most wonderful surprise ever." He waited for an answer, "Are you speechless? Is that even possible, Marisol?" he asked openly laughing at the confused look on her face. He pecked her cheek.
"I feel as if you're the biggest surprise of all, Lubimiy." she said with a smile as he buried his face in her hair, his chin resting on her shoulder.
"You're kidding!" she exclaimed as the next song began to play. "So you know how to rumba right?"
"Barely remember. Last time was probably in New York at the NYPD annual gala night."
"Now that is just sad, Horatio."
"Rich, coming from someone who's never danced it ever before."
"My rumba is perfect. Practice you know Horatio."
"Now that I can easily believe."
She began to lead as the lyrics streamed forth,
Where you are, is where I wanna be
And through your eyes, all the things I wanna see
And in the night, you are my dream
You're everything to me.
"So much for 'barely remembering'," she whispered. She was impressed by his movements. Yet a part of her had always known that he would have never let her down in this department. He had natural grace and was a quick learner.
You're the love of my life
Her leg curled around his as she finally let him take the lead. He heard her intake of breath as he leaned her down. His hand ran down the middle of the slinky black dress. Her hands gripped him tightly as he puller her back her up.
"Oh my…is this part of the surprise?" he asked, his hand cupping her breast feeling nothing but her hard nipple. His other hand trailed her down the slope of her back to investigate further. She gave him a naughty pout and nodded.
Marisol shimmied down him, "Oh my…" he breathed, allowing him to feel the nothingness but her body under the flimsy material, now knowing that there was nothing under the dress.
And the breath in my prayers
The eye contact was mesmerising, the lyrics and their bodies doing all the speaking.
Take my hand, lead me there,
He closed his eyes as he gave her his hand and she moved behind him, tenderly kissing the back of his neck. He was lost in the sensation she was eliciting from him.
What I need is you here
Their breathing was forgotten as swaying hips replaced blood with liquid fire. Their hands gripped each other more tightly, muscles tightly clenched to maintain the beauty of the dance.
I can't forget the taste of your mouth
"Marisol," he moaned loudly, her tongue plunging into his mouth. His hands shaped the contours of her lower body into him. He didn't let her stop, his own tongue taking control of their kiss till she was whimpering into his mouth.
From your lips all the heavens pour out
"Horatio. I want you."
I can't forget when we are one
She arched her back, her hand leading his to the hem of the dress.
It's you alone and I am free
He slid to his knees, his lips making a wet trail of kisses up her leg. "Tell me why, Marisol."
"Horatio," she blurted, her hand resting on the side of his face.
Everyday, every night, you alone
"Tell me why Marisol," he said again, biting the soft flesh. He felt the goosebumps rise as she shivered with delight, "Tell me why you're so perfect dancing this," his teeth marked her again, "And yet you've never danced it with anyone before. Why?"
You're the love of my life
She couldn't breathe, she wanted him to continue and but the torture and frustration was so delicious!
Everyday, every night, you alone,
"Don't think now, Horatio. Just don't think." she pleaded raising him from his knees to kiss him again.
You're the love of my life
The tempo of the song picked up, causing their passion to cool down a little but their pulses took off again as they sought to remain in control of each other.
We go dancing in the moonlight
With the starlight in your eyes
We go dancing till the sunrise
You and me we're gonna dance, dance, dance…
They finished breathless, clinging to each other - nothing mattering anymore for this moment as they clung to it heart, mind and soul. Everything the other wanted to know was in this moment. The hazel and blue of their eyes magnified, growing until their attraction hit them full force; hot lips and wet tongues dancing and duelling.
Her hands were at his shirt, picking the buttons off. The thin straps of her dress number were already down her shoulders.
They were dragging themselves to the stairs. He crushed her into him, raising her off the ground and carrying her.
They stumbled towards the bed, falling onto it and continuing their caresses.
"Wait, Sweetheart…" he stopped kissing her, feeling her hands skim down his torso and rest on his belt buckle, "Wait." He grabbed her hands, "I need to know Marisol," he said gently, "Why?"
"Because I was three years old and still living in Cuba when I first saw it danced. In the rumba, I saw the love in every move; the purity and beauty and I've wanted it ever since." Her hands framed his face, "With someone I can truly give myself to. You may not understand the breathlessness and movement I felt in that moment but I captured the feeling I had then again…with you… Horatio Caine." He began to kiss her, "And I know Lubimiy," he raised his head to look at her, "I want it with you. I really do."
"Thank-you, Sweetheart." His kisses were gentler this time, "Thank-you."
She responded to him drawing her legs around his waist as her fingers undid his trousers. His head moved lower, his teeth gripping the fabric and pulling it down to bare more of her skin to his kisses.
"What's this?" he asked, seeing markings in the dim light. "Tattoo?" there was a raised eyebrow.
Her arching back collapsed, "My initials in Cyrillic," she gasped, disappointed at the loss of contact.
"There's just no end to your surprises Marisol." He chuckled, continuing his explorations. Her musky scent was beginning to intoxicate him, drawing him up to her dampening mound.
"Lubimiy," she moaned. Her leg draped across his back pulled him closer to her wetness.
His mouth collided suddenly and forcefully with her tender skin. His tongue stroked her wet walls, and her accent grew thick with longing. "Say it again Marisol." He growled.
"Lubimiy," she purred in a thick foreign accent. She felt pleasure course through her from his tongue for her effort.
"Again," he whispered to her, loving to hear his special name roll from her lips.
"Horatio…Lubimiy" she groaned, feeling waves of delight tingle all over her body as she slipped closer to the edge.
Her hands fisted in his hair and pulled him up roughly. She kissed him pulling her body against his. Tasting her essence in his mouth was making her senses go wild, the heat between them rising. The final straw came when he began to nibble her ear, his hand pressing her down, stopping her hips from thrusting up. Her only way to vent was to rub her hot, sweaty skin against him.
Their lovemaking started in a slow rhythm, pulsating into ferocious passion to culminate spectacularly into a perfect moment of combined, unending bliss.
The night was now still. Gentle fingertips massaged cooling skin as they lay on their sides spooning.
"Marisol, are you ok? I didn't hurt you did I?
She patted the hand resting against the firm skin of her buttocks
"What?!" he shot up, his hand reaching for the switch of the lamp.
"Not you Lubimiy," she pulled him down on top of her, "I fell off the sofa that night."
"Maybe I should get to the gym more often."
"It wasn't your fault then either. More like panic because I was going to be late for work. But," her hand caressed his back, "From the shape you're in. I really don't think you need to go the gym." she said meaningfully.
He laughed clutching her to him and rolling her around to pin under him, his kisses, once again, drowning out all coherent thought.
His body clock which normally had him up by dawn was still adjusting to his recovery and had him stirring a little after dawn. He turned towards her feeling his legs tangled within hers. She was sleeping with her back to him. He kissed her shoulder and got out of bed. He looked around at the scattered clothing and winced slightly at the pain in his calf; clearly he was not as sprightly as he would have liked to think. He stood up and stretched feeling his muscles twinge in protest to his stretching. He got sidetracked watching her sleep, again. Her face was half-buried in a pillow, sheet partially covering her. The splendour of her breasts and navel revealed fully to him. wisps of dark curls teased his eyes, where they peeped at the edge of sheet covering her. His eyes roamed for the tattoo on her inner leg. His arousal was sudden and strong. Shaking his head at his body's response to her sleeping form, he headed to the bathroom .
"Room for one more?" she asked with a knock. She shivered slightly, goosebumps rising, crossing her arms against herself.
He nudged the shower door open, blowing the steam out to try and clear the air infront of his eyes. He offered her his hand. She took it and stepped into the shower with him.
He took her in his arms, "Good morning Marisol."
She kissed his chest, "Good morning Horatio."
He was about to kiss her, when he stopped, "Hmm, you might not have brushed yet? I think that warrants some yellow CSI tape around you."
"Funny! Real funny! For your information, I've already brushed." she leaned in to share a brief kiss.
"Mhhmm, minty."
She pulled away and grinned. She fingered the teeth marks on his arm, "I'm sorry about this," she ran her hand against the hickeys scattered across his torso, "and these."
He smiled at her, pushing her damp hair away from her face, "I'll live, Sweetheart."
They embraced in silence, letting the hot water run over them. Her hands soon began wander of their own will across his body. She turned around and reached for his shower gel.
"I've already soaped." he replied to her questioning look. His own gaze traversing the length of her body. Desire increasing the intensity of his pulse and making his mouth dry. He tugged her back to him. She began to soap herself while he began tracing a path of kisses across her shoulders. She tilted her head to one side to allow him to go further. One of his hands dropped to her thigh, tracing out the curve of her contours to find the tattoo he had discovered on her inner thigh during their lovemaking. Her hand led him to the right spot.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, stroking the tattoo.
"Thank-you." she whispered back, allowing his other hand to caress her.
He held onto her tightly as the water continued to run over them. They stood under the shower together simply enjoying the moment and the closeness they each felt.
She felt him pressing into her hip and her hand reached for him and began to stroke him.
"Sweetheart you don't have to do this." He let go and stepped back from her.
She pushed herself against him, "Too bad Horatio because I feel like doing something just like this. I want to."
He cupped her cheek, his thumb flattening out her wet hair, as he leaned in to kiss her. His eyes fixed on hers. gripping his arms tightly as she broke away from him and lowering herself to her knees, her teeth scraping a harsh, rough line from his chest down to his belly. She took her time here, her lips and tongue laving across his belly before finally plunging into his bellybutton. She heard his choked groan and was anxious for him to let go of his inhibitions; his hands were flat against the shower panel behind him and she could feel his abdominal muscles spasm now from their prolonged contraction because of her ministrations.
His physical struggle to want to pull her head to the part of him that wanted her the most was becoming unbearable. Oh God! Was it hard! His mind was racing, his chest pounding with conflicting emotions, and the steam from the shower was doing nothing to help douse the physical sensations he was feeling.
She moved her head lower down, kissing the soft skin of his groin, hidden beneath the copper-brown curls. He was so soft here, yielding to her every caress from her tongue and teeth. It was lovely, making her own senses reel with delight and headiness for him.
This is torture, he thought, completely unaware that he had mumbled it too. That was when she took him into her mouth. He breathed out deeply, the moistness of her mouth against his now hard member was enough to make him explode just there. She began to suck him and his head snapped back with force against the panel, a groan of delight issued from his tightly pursed lips. She made swallowing motions across his length, feeling every bulging vein. His hips began to make small thrusts forward. She shifted, moving up and down against his legs making sure he could feel her hard nipples. She let him go, and kneeled back on her heels.
"Horatio, you need to let go," she watched him breathing heavily, his eyes clouded over. She took his hands, and led them to her hair, "For both of us, Lubimiy."
"Marisol, I…I,"
"Horatio, don't speak, just let go." This time she didn't let him finish. She drew herself up and blew coolly out against the head of his erection.
"Marisol!" he yelled feeling the coldness of her breath and then the hotness of her mouth as she engulfed him again. Her tongue writhed around his length, sucking him hard as her hands fondled his sac. She tasted the pre-cum at the back of her throat. His eyes closed in bliss as his hands bunched her hair in his fists. He let go of his restraint letting her work his length. Inhaling deeply, her teeth began to graze and the force of her mouth against his manhood became harder. Feeling him tremble, her hands moulded him further into her mouth. His back arched as he released, hot spunk flying into the back of her throat and she swallowed it down, continuing to milk him until he became flaccid. He sighed heavily, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. He gripped her tightly and pulled her up, noticing her own breathing was heavy.
"That was quite…quite something, Marisol. It's…it's been a long time."
She gave him a cheeky smile, trailing a hand down the side of his thigh, "I figured Lieutenant, I figured."
He cupped her chin and kissed her roughly, his tongue colliding with hers in broken kisses, disjointed. The emotion behind it was different from their lovemaking the night before. Her hand shifted to his re-aroused manhood. He could taste his ejaculate in her mouth and it was making him hot and bothered again. He felt the redness seep all over his body, as she returned his fire and passion, moving her hands all over his body. Hands got tangled up with each other as each tried to dominate the other. He finally crushed her against him, his fingers escaping from her grasp and moving to lightly brush her clitoris. At the first stroke, she bit down on his lip. Her hips bucked against him. He kept her lips parted with his fingers as she continued to move her hot, moist mound against his hand. The hot friction turned into slickness as her leaking fluids covered his fingers. His mouth continued to distract her while his hand brought her closer to the edge.
"Coming…coming," she moaned into his mouth, roughly jerking her hips in time with his hand. She began to shake as wave after wave of pleasure shuddered through her body.
He ran his tongue over her lips, making sure he hadn't hurt her. She continued to breathe heavily against him, her hand caressing the scar on his side. She smiled again, pulling them both back into the shower spray.
"Your spontaneity quite blew me away, Horatio," she teased.
He laughed at her words, "Then perhaps you just need to be blown away more often, Sweetheart."
He turned the taps off and lifted her off her feet from behind. She giggled, her neck arching back to kiss his cheek. "I'm officially impressed, Lubimiy. We better get out of here or we're going to be very late."
He nodded with a smile. She grabbed a towel as he carried her back into the bedroom. He set her down only to find the towel roped around his neck and collapsing on to her as she flopped down onto the bed. She turned them around, so that she was resting on top of him. She pulled the towel and began to dry the both of them, rubbing and then kissing his skin. Her eyes lingered on the dark, elongating scar that ran along his side.
"Late, sweetheart?" he asked breathless.
"What's a few more minutes gonna make?" she kissed his shoulder, "Let's be adventurous," she quipped, followed by another kiss, "Your perfect record has got to have at least one late day."
"I concur, Sweetheart."
"Horatio, call-out to the Glades," said Frank, walking into his office, "Oh god!" he stopped in his tracks.
Confused, Horatio looked at him, "What?"
"You have the 'just fucked' look painted all over ya."
Horatio blushed but nevertheless managed to hold back the grin threatening to erupt. He gave his most nonchalant look to Frank's bluntness. He grabbed his kit and followed the detective out the door. "Francis, I wonder if you've taken up permanent residence in Gutterville." returned Horatio.
"Ah, the guilty blush says it all, LT." teased Frank with a chuckle as he led the way.
AN2: So did you guys like it??? I hope you did!