AN: Thanks for the feedback on the last chapter, I take it everyone was happy with the development! We've still got a little ways to go, though, hope you enjoy
Thanks to WalkerTRngr for the beta!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to CSI
Chapter 15
The incident – Sara decides to think of it as an incident – doesn't change anything in their interactions at first. They don't start getting each other off in the den after Sam's gone to bed, for obvious reasons, instead continuing to limit the physical contact to increasingly desperate make-out sessions.
Grissom does insist on bringing lunch to her place one day about a week and a half later, instead of meeting up somewhere like they usually do. When their sushi is gone, he pushes her down on her couch, quickly divests her of her cotton shorts and underwear, and eats her out until she's clawing at the fabric underneath her, almost sobbing at the overwhelming pleasure that's just not quite enough. When she's sure she can't take even a second more of the delicious torture, he finally plunges two fingers inside her and sucks her clit into his mouth, and she comes with a cry that she's sure must alert any neighbors that are home at this time of day to what's happening.
And she couldn't care less.
He just waves off her weak offer of reciprocating, saying that he has to get back to the university. Then he gently pulls her underwear and shorts back up, kisses her softly, in direct contrast to their activity of just a moment ago, and disappears out the door.
It takes a good ten minutes before Sara's brain catches up to what just happened, and then she just starts laughing, uncontrollably, until her stomach hurts with it.
After that, though, she does start to feel like it's time to just… take the next step. Yes, they did agree to take things slow, but it's been almost two months since that conversation, and OK, she's getting a little impatient and, yeah, sexually frustrated. Which is stupid when she has a boyfriend and could be getting off way more than she currently is.
She's trying to come up with a way to tell him just that when he gives her an opening one night when he's been called in on a case she's working.
"Hey, change of plans on Saturday."
Sara looks up from the victim's clothing that she's studying to frown at him. "Why?"
"Sam has a sleepover at Alex's place," he explains as he joins her at the light table. "So, I thought we could maybe go out instead? I did say I want to wine and dine you."
"I think the word you used was 'woo'," she replies, mouth twisting up in a smile.
"Same thing. So, dinner at…" He pauses. "I don't actually know where, it might be hard to get a reservation at some places this late, but I'll find something."
"Sounds good. Just…"
"What?"
"Just as long as the second part of the evening is still a movie on your couch," she qualifies.
To her surprise, Grissom frowns. "Are you sure?"
"Of course. Why?"
"Just… we said we were taking things slow, and I know there have been a few… tangents from that, but Sam's been a good… buffer. With her out of the house…"
"Gil Grissom, are you afraid you won't be able to control yourself if we're alone at your house?" she cuts him off with a smile.
"Maybe a little," he admits. "You're not?"
Sara considers just telling him that she wants to get laid. She's pretty sure he won't actually say no. But if she puts it out there, she knows he'll just worry himself to distraction for the next three days, so she decides it can be a nice surprise.
"Well, you don't have to be," she says instead. "I know you would never do anything I didn't want you to."
He seems to ponder her words for a moment, and she worries he might realize that she was very careful not to answer the actual question.
But some commotion in the corridor pulls his attention, and he smiles at her. "OK, so dinner wherever I can get a reservation and then… North by Northwest?"
They've been working their way through his Hitchcock collection over the last few weeks, plenty of which Sara's never actually seen.
"It's a date."
The smile on his face widens and he leaves the room with a dorky little wave.
Sara doesn't get much sleep when she gets home from work on Saturday morning, which she was expecting. She's always battled insomnia on some level, ever since foster care really, and stress or anticipation usually makes it worse. So she gets in a few hours and, around noon, gives up and just gets up. If her plans for the evening work out the way she hopes, she can get some more sleep with Grissom.
She digs through her fridge for a light lunch, coming up with an avocado, some lettuce that's going to go bad in a few more days, and tomatoes, so salad it is.
It's not too hot out, the day cloudy, so when she's finished her food, she dons running shorts and a tank top, loops her running belt around her waist and fills the bottles with water. When she digs Hank's running leash out of the drawer by the door, the dog immediately realizes what's happening and starts prancing around her, barking happily.
She gets the over-excited dog loaded into the car and drives the short distance to River Mountain Park. When she's gotten Hank's leash hooked to her belt and her iPod pumping her running mix in her ears, they set out on the old railroad trail at a decent pace.
It's an hour of trying not to think too much and failing completely, of course, but at least she gets a decent workout from it. By the time they get home, it's a few minutes after three, which gives her three hours to primp and prepare.
Plenty of time.
She starts with a long, hot shower, scrubbing every inch of her body, shaving and shampooing and conditioning. When every inch of her is clean and smooth, she gets out and wraps herself in a big, fluffy robe and towels her hair dry enough so she won't drip on the floor.
Going into the walk-in closet, she scrutinizes the few fancy-restaurant-appropriate outfits she owns, briefly cursing herself for not going shopping, even though she hates it.
After a few minutes she finds something that will be perfect in the darkest corner. She doesn't even recognize the dress – a short, silky number in a beautiful, royal blue shade – and the tags are still on it, so she obviously hasn't worn it. Crossing her fingers that it'll fit, she drops the robe and slides it over her head.
It doesn't look quite right without a bra, but other than that, it's a perfect fit, and she lets out a relieved breath as she takes it off again and hangs it on the closet door. Luckily, she doesn't own many pairs of shoes, and even less that match the dress, so picking out shoes only takes a moment.
Next up is underwear, which causes a bit of a headache, since all the sexy underwear she owns date back to their time together, and she feels like a new start requires new lingerie. But that's silly, so she tries to put the idea out of her mind. In the end, she decides on Grissom's favorite – a shimmering blue set with black lace she got for their first, and only, Valentine's Day together.
Checking the time, she starts a pot of coffee and settles at the kitchen island waiting for it to finish. Hank comes trotting into the kitchen, eyeing his food bowl woefully.
"OK, OK, an early dinner it is," Sara says amusedly, going over to the pantry to refill the bowl. "We're going to the sitter in half an hour anyway."
She drinks her coffee while the dog makes quick work of the food, and then she goes to put some clothes on for the short drive to the dog sitter.
She's back home by five and hurries up the stairs and into the bedroom.
Her hair's mostly dry by now, and she considers straightening it for a moment, but ultimately decides against it. Instead, she works the curl enhancing mousse she rarely uses into the tresses and leaves it at that.
Grissom's always said he loves her hair naturally curly.
She pulls on the panties and fastens the bra, twisting it around and pulling the straps up her arms before turning to face herself in the full-body mirror on the inside of the closet door.
The woman looking back at her has a glow to her that she hasn't seen in the mirror in over three years.
She looks… happy.
It's a dizzying feeling, and Sara can't help the smile on her face.
Reaching for the dress, she pulls it over her head, relishing in the slide of the silky material against her skin. With actual underwear, the dress looks even better, and she steps into the shoes before going into the bathroom to start her make-up.
She's never been much for a lot of the stuff, and she knows Grissom prefers when she doesn't go overboard, so she sticks to foundation, a touch of mascara, and her favorite lip-gloss.
Happy with the results, she goes in search of accessories, opening her jewelry box and surveying the sparse contents. The Christmas present from Grissom is a given – she's almost sure the color matches her underwear perfectly, and it goes well with the blue of the dress too – and she pairs it with some silver hoop earrings.
When she descends the stairs, it's still only a quarter to six, and she sighs as she leans against the kitchen counter, not wanting to mess up the dress, and tries to finish the crossword puzzle in the morning's paper.
The doorbell rings at six on the dot, and she grabs her purse on the way to the door, stuffing her phone in it and snatching her keys from the hallway table.
Grissom's eyes widen when she opens the door, sliding down her body and back up appreciatively. "Wow."
Sara has to laugh at his reaction. "I take it I pass muster?"
"More than," he tells her, sliding a hand around her waist to pull her in for a kiss. "You are going to outshine every woman at the Eiffel Tower."
"You actually got a table there?"
"I did," he confirms, looking just a little smug. "Had to pull a few strings, but it was worth it."
She steps outside and locks the door behind her. "I didn't know you had strings to pull."
Grissom chuckles as he leads her towards his car which is parked on the street, hand warm against her back through the dress. "Contrary to popular belief, I do have a few political bones in my body. Don't tell Catherine."
She mimes zipping her lips and throwing an invisible key over her shoulder as he opens the passenger door for her.
The restaurant is crowded, which isn't a surprise. They have a table at the windows overlooking the Bellagio, and just as they sit down, the fountain show starts, drawing their attention.
"I don't think I've ever actually watched it," Sara murmurs, eyes fixed on the spectacle.
"We rarely take the time to be tourists in our hometown," he notes, but when she turns to him, he's not looking out the windows but right at her.
"Maybe we should," she suggests, playing with the corner of her menu. "Maybe we should… take a stroll down the Strip and just take it all in."
He smiles at her. "I like that idea."
She returns the smile before focusing on the menu. "So, what's good in this place?"
She ends up ordering slow roasted salmon filet in a pinot noir sauce, and Grissom goes for veal medallions with wild mushrooms and asparagus after a little convincing – "You know I don't mind if you eat meat." "But I don't have to." "Just order the veal!".
"OK, this might be the best thing I've ever tasted," she announces after the first bite.
"Yeah?" His fork pauses halfway to his mouth.
"Uh-huh." She holds out her own fork. "Want a taste?"
Something dark flashes in his eyes as he leans over the table to accept the food, something that goes right to the pit of her stomach and spreads outwards like hot embers.
"Oh, yeah, that's amazing," he agrees after swallowing. "I would offer you a taste of mine, but, well, meat."
Sara smiles. "I wouldn't say no to trying some mushroom and asparagus." He spears a few pieces and holds out the fork for her, and she accepts the offering. "Mmm, yeah, that's amazing too."
The conversation flows freely as they eat, ranging from Sam to the lab to Grissom's students. They watch the sun set through the windows as they share two of the restaurant's special soufflés, one with valrhona chocolate and one with pistachio.
They linger for a while after night has fallen, watching the city come to life all around them, before returning to the car.
"Thank you," she says, reaching for his hand across the center console as he takes a left on the Strip, away from the bright lights.
"For what?" he asks, glancing at her.
"For… wooing me."
"My pleasure."
The house seems empty without Sam. Even after she goes to bed on their movie nights, she's still there, a presence even two floors above.
It's not a bad thing, especially with how Sara hopes the evening will end, it just feels a little… off.
"I know she's not here, but I'm still kind of expecting Sam to come barging down the stairs, asking about our dinner," Grissom says as he closes the door behind them, voicing her thoughts.
"I know how you feel," she agrees, leading the way into the kitchen. "Popcorn?"
"Yes, please." She finds a bag in the pantry and pops it in the microwave while he opens the fridge. "What do you want to drink?"
"What are you offering?" she retorts, going over to peer into the fridge with him.
"Soda, beer, OJ – not sure that goes with popcorn," he rattles off. "I could open a bottle of wine if you would prefer, but I have no idea what kind pairs well with popcorn."
"Beer, thanks," Sara decides, not because she needs the liquid courage. OK, not just because she needs the liquid courage.
"There you go." He offers her a bottle, taking a soda can for himself.
"You're not drinking with me?" she teases a little.
"I figured you might need a ride home," he explains with a shrug.
"And you couldn't possibly drive after a single beer. Also, I could… stay."
Grissom's eyes widen a little at the suggestion. "Are you… sure?"
She takes the can out of his hand and puts it back in the fridge, replacing it with a beer bottle. "I'm sure," she assures him. "But if you don't…"
"No," he cuts her off quickly. "If you're sure, then I am too."
"We don't…" She pauses, goes over to get the finished popcorn and pour them into a bowl. "I feel like a teenager, but we don't have to… I just… I want to wake up with you. I've missed it."
His arms slide around her waist from behind and she relaxes back against him for a moment. "I want that too." His lips brush over her temple and then he steps back. "But first, I believe I promised you a movie on the couch."
She grabs the bowl and her own beer and turns to him with a smile. "You did."
It's different, starting their movie night without Sam between them. Sara sits down in her usual spot, but after popping the DVD in the player, Grissom stretches out along one of the chaises, tugging lightly on her hand to get her to move over.
"Isn't this better?" he murmurs in her ear when she's settled in against him.
"Mmm, much."
They watch the movie in silence for a while, the only sound the rustling when one of them reaches for a handful of popcorn and the beer sloshing around when they raise their bottles.
She manages to focus on the plot until he finishes the last of his beer and puts the bottle down on the end table next to the couch. When he settles back against the couch again, he wraps his arm around her shoulders, his fingers tracing patterns against her skin.
It's such a simple touch, but it's enough to light a fire in the pit of her stomach. Of course, just a look from him can do that, as she knows from experience.
Another ten minutes, and her own beer is empty, and that's about all Sara can take. She straightens up on the couch to put her bottle down on the table and then swings around, straddling him on the chaise.
"You don't want to watch the rest of the movie?" he asks, fingers digging in lightly in the swell of her hips.
"Honestly?" She leans in closer, sliding a hand into his hair to tilt his head back a little for a better angle. "I was more interested in the 'on the couch' part."
He kisses her back immediately, hands sliding around to her butt to pull her closer, so it seems like he doesn't mind missing the second half of the movie either.
"I love this dress," Grissom mumbles after a moment, breaking away to kiss down her throat. "The material is like water between my fingers." He finds the hem of the skirt. "I kind of want it off, though."
Her heart beating fast in her chest, she leans back enough to let him pull the garment up and over her head. The sharp intake of breath when she's mostly bared before him is intensely satisfying, and she wastes no time reaching for his tie, quickly undoing the knot and tossing it to the side before reaching for the top button in his shirt.
He lets her get the buttons undone and shrugs out of the shirt before flipping them on the couch so she's underneath him. She assumes he'll continue kissing her, but he just sort of… freezes above her, breath heavy and eyes dark.
"What's wrong?" Sara asks after a moment, reaching up to cup his cheek.
He leans into the touch and closes his eyes for a second before kissing her softly. "Before we… I just want to… I love you." The words aren't a complete surprise, but they're definitely more than welcome. "I've put a lot of time into analyzing what I did wrong last time, aside from the obvious, and not telling you how completely and… maddeningly in love with you I've been since… we met, basically, that's pretty high up there."
She waits until he opens his eyes to look at her again. "I love you too," she then says. "And trust me, I'm looking forward to hearing you say those words a lot more in the future, but right now, I kind of really want to get you naked."
Grissom chuckles above her. "That sounds like an excellent plan."
He makes no move to take off any more of her or his own clothes, though, instead closing the space between them to kiss her, softly at first, but soon more demanding. She's not complaining, though – she could kiss him for hours.
The hand he's not using to prop himself up above her is continuously running over her body – tangling in her hair one moment, trailing down her throat to her shoulder and along her arm the next, then raising goosebumps on the sensitive skin over her ribs to finally wrap around her thigh, nudging her legs apart so he can settle more comfortably between them.
Sara wraps an arm around his neck, to hold him close, and trails a hand down his back and up again, her blunt nails against his skin making a shiver run through him. He repositions a little above her, rubbing against the thin material of her panties, and she moans into the kiss.
When his only response is to abandon her mouth to kiss down her neck, she slides her hand around to tug at his belt.
"Maybe we should move this upstairs?" she suggests breathlessly as his teeth graze her pulse point.
Grissom doesn't respond immediately, continuing his exploration of her shoulder, chest, running his tongue along the skin right at the edge of her bra, before repeating everything in reverse on the other side. When he reaches her mouth again, he kisses her lightly before pushing to his feet, holding out a hand to help her up.
She takes it, grateful for the support when her legs shake under her, and lets him tug her along.
He pauses at the bottom of the stairs to the second floor, though, pushing her up against the wall and kissing her roughly. She takes the opportunity to keep working on his belt, sliding it out of the loops when she gets it undone, making quick work of the button and zipper as well. When she's pushed the pants down his legs, he steps out of them and kicks them to the side before resuming his previous position.
Sara moans at the feel of his hardening erection against her core, the only thing separating them two thin layers of cotton and satin. He maneuvers a hand between her back and the wall, unhooking her bra with ease, and she releases her hold around his neck to let the straps slide down her arms.
He covers one breast with a warm, rough hand, leaning down to pull the nipple of the other into his mouth, and she lets her head thud back against the wall, arching against him.
"Feels so good," she groans, one hand holding onto his shoulder for balance.
"Tastes even better." He belies the words by taking a step back though, but only to once more take her hand to continue up the stairs.
When they finally make it to Grissom's bedroom, it's her turn to push him up against the wall, using her lips and tongue to explore the planes of his chest and up his throat. When she reaches his mouth though, he quickly flips their positions and kisses her for a long moment before dropping to his knees in front of her.
"I love these," he says, placing a chaste kiss against her panties. "I can't believe you still have them."
"Of course I do."
He looks up at her then, their eyes meeting in a moment of understanding.
Then he hooks his thumbs in the sides of the garment and slowly slides it down her legs.
Sara's breath is coming in quick gasps as he buries his nose in her curls and breathes her in. "I love the way you smell when you're all worked up like this. I love knowing I do this to you."
It might be the most erotic thing someone has ever said to her, and she can't quite help the whimper that escapes her. He slides a hand down her thigh to her knee, lifting her leg to drape over one of his shoulders and open her up to him, and then he slides his tongue along her all the way to her clit, making her jerk against him.
"No… no teasing, please," she begs.
"But I love to tease you," Grissom complains half-heartedly, placing a kiss on the inside of her thigh. "But OK, no teasing, just this once. Only because I need to be inside you, soon."
True to his words, he pushes two fingers inside her, mouth and tongue working against her clit with purpose, and it's only a few minutes before she cries out with the first waves of her orgasm.
He's trailing soft kisses along her lower belly when she opens her eyes again, and she tugs him up impatiently.
"Need you."
"Here?" He pulls an earlobe into his mouth. "Bed?"
While sex up against a wall might seem adventurous, Sara knows from experience that it usually also leads to uncomfortable chafing against her back.
"Bed," she says, kissing him deeply – tasting herself on his tongue – before giving him a gentle push towards the bed. To her surprise, he bends down to lift her into his arms, and she shrieks. "Put me down! You'll hurt your back."
"It's only a few feet," Grissom reasons, making short work of the distance and gently laying her down on top of the soft bedspread. "Let me feel a little manly."
"Oh, I think you're plenty manly," she tells him, watching appreciatively as he pushes his boxers down his legs.
"Yeah?" He wraps a hand around himself, thumb swiping over the head, and she can't help but lick her lips, making him chuckle.
"Uh-huh. Now come here."
"Yes ma'am."
Sara lets her legs fall open as he kneels on the bed, pulling him down for a kiss when he pauses above her. His mouth opens for her, and she wraps one leg around the back of his thigh to pull him down more fully on top of her.
"Hang on, hang on," he mumbles against her mouth. "Condoms."
She just tightens her hold on him. "I still have my IUD."
"Are you sure?" He pulls away to look at her.
She nods. "I'm sure. I need to feel you."
He groans at her raw admission, eyes sliding closed, and leans his forehead against hers. She gives him a moment, but just a moment – shifting her hips, she then pushes up against him, feeling his hardness against her skin.
His eyes snap open at the feeling, and then his mouth is intent on hers again, and she feels his hand slide between them to line himself up.
When he finally – finally – pushes inside her, the entire world falls away for a long moment, and it's just them.
"God, I forgot how good you feel inside me."
"I didn't forget," he murmurs against her lips, kissing her again. "I could never forget. So fucking… perfect."
"Uh-huh," Sara agrees, angling her hips up towards him, pulling him just a little deeper and making him groan as he starts moving.
Sneaking one hand under her hips, he gets the angle just right, hitting her G spot on every thrust, and it's not long before she's panting, urging him on, nails digging into his back as she chases release.
Her second orgasm is explosive, washing over her in overwhelming waves, and she could swear she blacks out for a moment in there. When she comes back to herself, he's slowed his strokes, but is still moving inside her. He kisses her when she opens her eyes and picks up the pace a little again.
Grissom's always known how to play her body, since the first time they slept together, and if anything, he's only gotten better at it. But when he slides a hand between them a few minutes later, a sure thumb finding her still sensitive clit and making her gasp, she decides that two can play that game.
She slides her legs up his and wraps them around his waist, changing the angle and pulling him even deeper. He beaks the kiss with a groan, hips jerking, but his thumb stays insistent against her, and he does manage to push her over the edge one more time seconds before tumbling after her himself.
He collapses on top of her for a moment, but when he makes to roll off her, she tightens her arms around his neck. "No. Stay."
"I'm too heavy," he objects weakly.
"No. Just for a little while."
He sighs but obliges, burying his face against her throat. She slides a hand into his hair, scraping lightly at his scalp and making him hum.