One week after Gil and I took that mammoth leap from something more than co-workers and friends to lovers he asked me out to dinner. Even when we were attempting to rebuild our friendship, after my meltdown, we never went out to eat anywhere. It was always take out at his place or mine or Gil just cooked for us and by the way, that man can cook.

            So, when he came up to me in the locker room after shift, his eyes quickly scanning the area for any unwanted observers before placing a shoulder into the locker adjoining mine, I knew something was up. The look in his eyes alternated between nervous and heated as he inquired to my plans that evening.

            I couldn’t help myself and had to tease him ever so lightly. After all, he sort of deserves it when he gives me that hot look at work that makes my mouth go dry and my panties wet. So, I said, in my best bedroom voice, “Yeah, I plan on being naked…under you.”

            I swear I thought the man was going to jump me right then and there. His blues eyes went black with desire as he took a half step towards me. We had always violated each others personal spaces before but this was like having sex, only we had our clothes on and you might have been able to slip a file between our two bodies.

            His gaze roamed my body, masking none of the desire he felt and I swear I could almost feel his hands upon my body. When the tip of his tongue darted out to lick his upper lip salaciously my mind began a quick list of all the places in the building I could drag him off to and have my way with him. Before I could act on my need to molest my new secret lover, Gil said, “That sounds very enticing but I was wondering if you would have dinner with me tonight?’

            People, this was a no brainer, a win-win situation. Not only was I finally getting to go out on a dinner date with the man that I had loved for years but I was guaranteed to get lucky as well, if the glint in his eyes was any consideration. The math was simple. Gil Grissom plus dinner plus hot, hot sex equals a night to remember.

            “Yes. Yes, definitely. Big time, yes,” I hurriedly told him, my enthusiasm very apparent.

            With a chuckle he stepped back and gave me the time he’d be by to pick me up and let me tell you, I didn’t even pretend at being fashionably late. Gil was seven minutes early and we were out the door in two. I wasn’t about to waste a single, solitary moment of the evening, not when it promised to be a momentous occasion.

 

            G  S  R  *  G  S  R  *  G  S  R  *  G  S  R  *  G  S  R

           
            The rolling rumble of thunder somewhere in the distance caught Sara’s attention, her nervous pacing of her living room apartment momentarily halted, a simple hitch in her stride before she continued to wear down the carpet. She smiled a tiny smile, the kind that generally preceded a huff of amusement as she stopped pacing and mentally and physically made herself relax by taking a seat on one of the stools to her breakfast bar.

            Sara glanced at the clock above her kitchen sink.

            7:20, Sara noted, willing herself not to start nervously tapping on the counter before her.

            Unable to stop herself, Sara began to drum out a soft, quick tempo beat that caused her to laugh softly.

            “This is silly,” she reprimanded herself, shaking her head softly. “You’ve had sex with him already, Sidle.”

            With an energy that she was unable to contain, Sara resumed her pacing, her mind trying to reason away her nervousness. Yes, they had had sex…

            “Incredible sex.” Sara chuckled as she categorized the event with glee.

            …but this was a date and somehow, to Sara, it held more possibility than the mere act of wild, hot monkey love spurred on by a forty-eight hour emotional rollercoaster and a need for release. If she and Grissom hadn’t have fallen into bed together that early morning, there could well have been a planet altering, naturally calamity as the two were on the verge of detonating and taking the western portion of the United States with them.

            The doorbell sounding broke through Sara’s nervous thoughts and reflections, her feet coming to an abrupt stop nearly sent her tumbling ignobly to the floor.

            “Just a minute,” Sara called out, her eyes darting to the clock in the kitchen. “Early,” she noted before hustling off to the door.

            Sara tried to temper her enthusiasm as she opened the door but what met her eyes when she did had her motor skills grinding to a halt and her mind spiraling into a mental loop. Standing in her doorway was the man that had filled countless hours of her thoughts, her dreams and her fantasies.

            Oh. My. God. Sara’s short-circuiting brain ground out. My imagination sucks!

            Grissom gave Sara a lopsided grin as he handed her the single red rose he had been twisting gently in his fingertips. Watching as Sara took it absentmindedly, her eyes taking in his appearance with unabashed scrutiny. He might have felt a tad uncomfortable, being inspected as he was, if it hadn’t allowed him the opportunity to reciprocate in kind.

            “You look lovely,” Grissom told her.

            Sara nodded, still soaking up the GQ tasty treat before her. He was wearing a black suit, with a dark burgundy shirt and matching black and burgundy tie. He looked incredibly male, slightly mysterios and very, very sexy. Sara had the completely irrational thought of having him duplicated so that she could keep him in her living room and admire him like some living statue.

            “Come in,” Sara finally said, fighting the urge to run her hands down along his chest and breath deeply his scent. “I just need to grab my things.”

            Grabbing the black wrap and purse that matched the elegant evening dress she was wearing, Sara turned to see Grissom’s eyes upon her. His eyes were as dark as midnight as they ranged upward, boldly snaring Sara’s gaze. Grissom had been caught eyeing her backside but wasn’t about to feel guilty about it if the daring glint in his eyes told Sara anything.

            Sara’s skin was running both hot and cold and the clenching butterflies in her lower belly had her gaze shooting to the door of her bedroom, her thoughts blatant and clear. She was ready to forgo dinner and get down to the business of the bedroom.

            “Dinner first, my beauty.”

            Sara was startled at the reaction her body had at Grissom’s words, his voice low and sensual, filled with promised delight, nearly had her coming while standing in the middle of her apartment. Sara threw out a silent prayer, praying for the strength to wait until they returned.
 
            The shiny black Mercedes parked in her apartment complex parking lot seemed a bit out of place. Although the complex was nice and catered to professionals, the parking lot was more use to Chevy Cavaliers, Toyota Camrys and Nissan Maximas. The sleek black lines of Grissom’s car made it seem like a jaguar in a land of kittens. The analogy causing Sara to smile as she heard the click of the car doors unlocking at their approach.

            “Nice car,” she told him, her admiration genuine.

            “Thanks.”

            Grissom opened the passenger door for Sara with an ease that said his manners were not just for show but the real deal. Of course, Sara had no problem believing Mother Grissom had spent many years teaching her son the art of being a gentleman.

            Once Grissom had settled himself in the driver’s seat and set their course, Sara decided to fill the silence with safe chit-chat.

            “So…why a Mercedes?”

            Grissom’s gaze slid over to Sara at her question before returning to the road.

            “In my twenties I drove Japanese model cars. In my thirties it was American made and when I turned forty I developed an affinity for German made vehicles,” he answered, his eyes watching the traffic around them.

            “Hmm, what happens when you turn fifty?” Sara queried, a hint of mischief in her voice.

            Grissom gave her a smirk as he glanced over at Sara in a sidelong gaze.

            “I suppose I will have to have a mid-life crisis and buy Italian.”

            Sara’s grin faltered slightly in the racing lights of the passing city. An uncomfortable thought itching at the back of her mind.

            “No, Sara.”

            Sara looked at Grissom, slightly alarmed.

            “You’re not a mid-life crisis.” Grissom eyed her poignantly, making certain she understood and believed the veracity of his words.
           
            Shaking her head, her smile fully returned, Sara said, “I think Greg might be right about you. I think you might be a little supernatural.”

            Grissom chuckled, knowing full well some of the odd things that people thought about him.

            Realizing they were leaving the city, Sara’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Where…are we going?”

            In the fading light, Sara could just make out the slight grin on Grissom’s face, his eyes never leaving the road ahead of them.

            “It’s a surprise.”

            Grissom cast a sideways glance at Sara, curious for her reaction. Sara caught his gaze in the dim red glow of the dashboard lights, her lips pursing as she tried to miter the grin easing on to her face. “Mysterious as always,” she softly said, her tone playful.

            Within twenty minutes Sara was fairly certain Grissom was taking them out to Lake Mead. Calville and Swallow Bay had a number of restaurants but those places lay on the north shore of the lake and Sara had the distinct feeling Grissom was heading south. Knowing he would not give away their destination, Sara chose to be patient and see what lay in store for their evening. Just being with Grissom was enough in her mind.

            The night sky was clear but with no moon, the stars sparkling against the black back drop of the heavens and glittering of the inky waters of Lake Mead. Sara could make out the glow of the harbor and tried to recall if there were any eateries there.

            “The harbor?”

            “Mmm,” Grissom hummed, as he made their way into a large parking area that serviced the main pier in the harbor and a number of shops.

            “Pirate Pete’s Fish Shack?” Sara questioned noticing a restaurant nearby with shanty decor.

            Grissom chuckled as he sought a parking spot. “No, I think we are a little overdressed for Pirate Pete’s but they do make a mean fish sandwich.”

            “I’ll remember that,” Sara said with a smile. “Looks to be a busy night.”

            Grissom had to agree as he was forced to park at the back of the lot. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t realize how busy it could be. I’ve only been out here during the week on a couple of occasions.”

            A mischievous grin played at Sara’s lips. “Really. Is this the hot date spot for the illustrious Dr. Gil Grissom?”

            An answering smirk and a devilish gleam in Grissom’s eyes had Sara blinking rapidly.  “I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Grissom replied before exiting his door, his voice a dare and a promise at the same time, causing Sara’s breath to hitch momentarily from the butterflies that erupted in her lower belly.

            Sara felt giddy as Grissom escorted her across the dimly lit parking lot, her arm linked with his as they headed towards the large wooden pier that intersected with the lower portion of the parking area. Aside from Pirate Pete’s there was an ice cream parlor and a trinket shop still open for the harbor’s patrons to enjoy. In the distance Sara could hear the muffled sounds of Jimmy Buffet playing and smiled brightly, not because of the music, she could take Buffet’s music or leave it, but because of the night, what it meant and the man at her side.

            Sara followed Grissom’s lead, not even questioning their objective as they left the shops behind and stepped out on to the overly wide pier. Her mind preoccupied with the feel of her arm linked with his, the play of his thumb along the overly sensitive flesh of her hand, the warmth radiating of his body. It wasn’t until they were half way down the thirty odd yards of plank-way that Sara became aware of their destination.

            Sitting in the glossy black waters at the end of the pier was a magnificent and stately tri-deck yacht. Sara’s eyes traveled from the brightly lit yacht, to an impeccably dressed man in his late fifties standing behind a podium at the end of the dock to Grissom who smiled broadly at her silent realization.

            “We’re eating on a yacht?”

            Grissom chuckled at the disbelief that eked through Sara’s voice. “Do you mind? You’re not prone to sea sickness, are you?”

            Sara shook her head, slightly dazed, as they stopped before the maitre d’.

            “Reservation for Grissom.”

            The sounds of piano music softly filtered from somewhere within the mammoth vessel, while the soft lapping of the lake’s water played below the pier. Checking his list the maitre d’ quickly came to Grissom’s reservation.

            “Yes, Mr. Grissom,” he said with a smile. “A table for two.”

            A neatly dressed young man in a white jacket and black slacks approached the maitre d’ as he held up two menus.

            “Brandon will show you to your table,” he told them, handing the menus over to the young man who led them to the well lit gangway.

            If the exterior of the ship was something to behold then the interior was something to admire. Beautiful cherry wood walls, Italian marbled hallways and decorative metal works added to the splendor of the vessel. Their guide led them to a spiral staircase made of ornamental black iron topped with a deep cherry wood banister that gleamed under Sara’s fingertips as they ascended to the deck above.

            “Here you are sir, ma’am,” the young man said, placing the menus at their table. Noting that Grissom was politely holding out Sara’s chair, the young man stood back a step with hands clasped in front of him as he waited for Grissom to finish and take his seat. “Can I get you anything to drink before your waiter arrives?”

            Grissom eyed Sara, silently telling her, ladies first.

            “I’ll have a glass of the house wine,” Sara answered, bestowing the young man with a smile.

            “Scotch,” Grissom said when it came to his turn.

            “Very good,” the young man said before heading off to take care of their beverages.

            Once alone, Sara took a few moments to inspect their surroundings. The deck they were on held a dozen small round tables draped in white table clothes with decorative floral centerpieces. Each table was capable of sitting three comfortably but most were occupied by couples such as Grissom and Sara. In the center of the room and on the portside was small bar, the bartender expertly making drinks for the waiters and waitresses. At the aft the room’s oversized, sliding glass doors were wide open allowing patrons to move freely.

            “This is amazing, Grissom,” Sara marveled, turning gaze from the room to the man seated across from her. “I’m…” Sara really couldn’t think what to say.

            Grissom smiled at Sara as he took his drink from the waiter. “I’m glad you like it,” he told her. “Eventually we’ll leave the dock and I understand there is dancing on the sundeck.”

            The evening progressed beautifully. After their meal they ventured to the sundeck that had been altered to be a dance floor. The wall to the large room adjacent to the deck was wide and held a baby grand piano, a full sized bar and a half dozen tables for those wishing to rest in between dances. Sara couldn’t recall a more romantic moment than the one she shared with Grissom, dancing slowly in his strong arms beneath the wide open night sky.

            Perfect, the only word she could come up with to describe the evening was perfect.

            “Thank you,” Sara said dreamily as they walked arm in arm along the dock, their dinner cruise eventually done.

            Grissom slowly brought them to a halt, eager to see the happiness he heard in her voice on her face. “You’re welcome, Sara,” he told her, his voice warm and true as his fingertips gently brushed along the side of her face. “I’ve dreamt of doing this with you…for a long time.”

            The wistful look on Sara’s face slowly faded, blending into something deeper, warmer. “Really?”

            Bending his head slightly, Grissom placed a lingering kiss to her lips in answer.

            With that tiny spark, desire raged just below the calm surface as heated gazes entwined. Sara was almost certain her body temperature had gone up twofold under Grissom’s sensual gaze, her skin feeling feverish as tiny sparks danced along her nerve endings.

            Grissom watched with avid interest as Sara darted the tip of her tongue out to wet her bottom lip before worrying it between her teeth. Her desire laden gaze only added to his own amorous thoughts as Grissom fought the driving urge to grab Sara up and kiss her breathlessly.

            “We should go,” he told her, the sound of other couples passing by registering just enough to stop him from ravishing her on the dock.

            Sara nodded in agreement and took Grissom by the hand. Their pace was quick as they made their way back to Grissom’s car. Somewhere, in some corner of his mind, Grissom noted the parking lot had far more vacancies then when they arrived, with most of the remaining vehicles parked near Pirate Pete’s. Grissom’s Mercedes was parked relatively alone, the black car barely catching the distant parking lot light.

            With a chirp-chirp, Grissom unlocked the doors to the car, steering Sara quickly to the passenger side. Intending on opening the door and helping her into the car, Grissom was momentarily startled when Sara spun around on him and kissed him. Kissed, may not have adequately described what Sara was doing. Devoured, Sara devoured Grissom, her lips hungrily seeking and capturing his.

            Passion flared with the press of lips and bodies. With the heel of one hand leaning against the car roof, Grissom bent forward pinning Sara willingly against the cool metal of the car as his free hand traveled softly down her exposed arm to settle firmly at her hip, laying silent claim to her.

            Sara moaned at the heavy press of Grissom. Her arms snaking enthusiastically about his neck, pulling him closer, keen to feel every inch of him against her. The night air had cooled some with the setting of the sun but Sara was certain it had skyrocketed in their vicinity, her skin tingling and warm.

            “Sara,” Grissom whispered in between passionate kisses, his breath warm and rasping as his lips traveled from Sara’s lips to her exposed neck.

            At the touch of Grissom’s skillful lips at her throat, Sara moaned. Her fingers skirted up the back of his neck to bury themselves in the curls at his nape, gently taking hold and pressing him closer. Her stomach clenched tightly, a white hot fire taking flame there as she became aware of the physical proof of Grissom’s desire.

            It had only been seven days since they had crashed through all the invisible barricades that had kept them apart. But once they had dared to be more, to be lovers, all the little things that had played havoc with Sara’s senses went into overload. The feel of Grissom’s strong hand at the small of her back, the light press of him against her side as he leaned over to inspect some piece of evidence, the raw desire that would flare in his blue eyes, turning them near black and causing Sara’s body to flush warmly and all her thoughts to travel to that one true and epic moment.

            Sara had hungered for him since and every free moment Grissom had had been consumed with thoughts of her. His near perfect memory recalling every titillating detail, causing the man to suffer an unknown number of cold showers both at home and at work. They had both agreed to keep their private lives private, neither wanting to share the special something that had erupted on them so sweetly but the strength of the passion that they had for one another was sometimes difficult to compartmentalize, seeping out slightly during work.

            Sara had theorized to herself that it was a simple answer of pressure. All the years of sexual innuendo, heated glances, stolen touches had built up to such a degree that the back pressure had become dangerously high. The lab was lucky the two of them hadn’t given in and ripped one another’s clothes off in the middle of a layout table and fucked each other senseless at this point. So, it was obvious to Sara. She and Grissom needed frequent pressure relief, otherwise in was going to be a free sexcapade show at the lab.

            The sound of distant laughter as a few patrons left Pirate Pete’s cut through the passionate haze of Grissom’s mind. Lifting his head, he watched as the laughing friends headed to their cars oblivious to the two lovers hidden in the semi-darkness at the far end of the parking lot. The feel of Sara sensually gyrating against his hip in frustration had Grissom’s dark gaze returning to the woman in his grasp. The wanton look in Sara’s eyes caused his hardened member to spasm in answer.

            “We…should go,” he said, his voice low and gruff with desire.

            “Okay,” Sara answered, the tip of her tongue coming out to taste the residual taste of his kisses on her lips.

            With a half groan, half growl Grissom slowly pushed himself away from Sara and opened the car door for her. The look on his face assured her that their evening was not finished but Sara was not all that certain she could wait the needed time to return to her apartment or his townhouse. Sara had made a vocation out of waiting him. Now that she had him she found her ability to be patient was waning drastically.

            Watching as Grissom slid into the driver’s seat, Sara took a deep breath before launching herself over the center console to take his lips with hers again. Waiting was for the weak of heart and she felt bold, like she could conquer the world before dawn and still have time for breakfast.

            Startled, Grissom’s eyes grew wide before they slowly fluttered shut, his hands reaching out to cup Sara’s face as the kiss deepened. The hum of heavy breaths being taken in long gulps and quick pants battled with sound of wet lips sucking and sliding together in an ever increasing frenzy.

            Like starved beings, they hungered for another but could find no ease to their needs. They could not taste enough, touch enough, smell enough. It was maddening and thrilling at the same time. Tongues dueled as they tasted sweet passion while hands roamed wildly.

            The warmth of Grissom’s hand masterfully slipping beneath the thin fabric of Sara’s dress had her sighing loudly. She had craved his touch all evening. No, that wasn’t correct, Sara had craved his touch forever but from that one brilliant moment, a week ago, she had needed it desperately.

            “Mmm,” Sara hummed against his lips, loving the feel of their wet warmth as he slid along her jaw line before feasting upon the delicate flesh of her neck.

            Sara had been the recipient of both good kisses and bad kisses since that day, nineteen years ago, in Mrs. Gilroy’s garage with Pete Logan but nothing had prepared her for being kissed by Gil Grissom. Initially she didn’t know whether to be happy that he was such an amazing kisser or whether to worry at where such skill was honed, finally deciding on the former.

            Grissom’s palm caressed up the length of Sara’s thigh, her dress bunching at his wrist traveled higher. Her smooth skin made his hand tingle and his fingers itch to feel more. Encountering the feel of her lacy thong, Grissom’s fingers lightly traced the garments path across her hip before he palmed the ripe flesh of Sara’s ass tugging her closer.

            “Sara,” he whispered before his lips hungrily sought and captured hers once more.

            Grissom couldn’t get enough of touching Sara and she couldn’t get enough of his touch. Her body twisted into his touch, pushing forward, Sara groaned in frustration as the center console of his car blocked her from her needs.

            “Damn, whoever invented these,” she rasped, thumping her knee softly against the offending feature. “Bench seats…best…for making out,” she declared in between fevered kisses.

            Grissom nodded his head but continued to kiss her, unable to tear himself from her lips. He was intoxicated by the taste and feel of her soft lips, he needed more and sought and claimed more eagerly. Grissom was certain he could live without air but not her kisses; he would die without the exquisite press and slide of her lips. It had to be an anatomical fact!

            A groan rumbled low in his throat and escaped as a raspy sigh as he felt Sara’s palm make contact with the prominent bulge in his slacks. “Honey,” hissed in warning or benediction as she massaged his length slowly, up and down and up and down.

            At the sound of his pleasure, Sara felt a hot spark of desire shoot down through her lower belly, swelling in a delicious ache at her core. It was a well known ache and was completely associated with the man desperately trying not to writhe beneath her touch. Grissom had had her panties wet and twisted for years, even if he had never known it. She had come to the sound of his voice in her ears, bless the guy that invented voicemail, and to the vision of him in her head so many times, Sara would hate to contemplate the number for fear of being labeled a sex fiend.

            Boisterous laughter broke through the heated spell that had descended upon Grissom and Sara, their lust laden but startled eyes seeking and finding the source of their disruption. A rowdy group of friends had left the restaurant and were in the process of deciding who would ride in what car, unaware of the two lovers who were trying to catch their breaths in the black Mercedes with the partially steamed up windows.

            Twenty yards and poor lighting saved Grissom and Sara from being discovered. With a few ribald comments and some more laughter the friends loaded into their cars and vacated the parking lot, none the wiser.

            Grissom blew out a relieved breath and was about to make a comment about close calls when his blue eyes were ensnared by Sara’s dark gaze, her desire turning her chocolate brown eyes black in the shadowed light. That was it, all it took as Grissom’s pulse ramped rapidly, his eyes darting to her lips as Sara licked them. He was about to reach out and grab her when Sara threw her back against her seat, her hands reaching beneath her dress.

            Grissom watched with razor intent as Sara wiggled out of the black lacy thong that had been hidden beneath her dress, dropping it on the floorboard along with her heels. Realization dawned on him with the delicacy of a tsunami, his heated gaze scanning the parking lot.

            They were well separated from the rest of the vehicles in the lot and with the overhang of a number of trees blocking the street lights…

            “Fuck it,” Grissom hissed, his hands roughly making quick work of his belt before Sara reached across and did away with the button and zipper of his slacks.

            Grissom groaned at the feel of Sara’s fingers freeing him from the confines of his clothing as he lifted his hips and worked his pants to mid-thigh, her warm fingers dancing expertly over his aching flesh. Grissom could recall only one other time in his life of being that hard and it had been one week ago to the day.

            As Sara vaulted over the troublesome center console, Grissom made quick work of his seat, sliding it back to give them more room to maneuver. With a groaning duet the two collided, Sara landing on his thighs her knees wedges into the tight spaces on either side of Grissom’s legs. A flurry of hands had Sara frantically working the tie at his neck before attacking the buttons of his dress shirt while Grissom ran the palms of his hands up and down along Sara’s outer thighs.

            “Oh, babe,” Sara exclaimed, her voice husky with desire her hands roaming over the heated skin of his exposed chest. “I’ve…I’ve been in pain…needing you, need you, mmm, yes.”

            Sara gave up trying to explain the fevered thoughts ricocheting inside her head. It was pointless to even think with Grissom’s lips sinfully working the sensitive juncture of her neck and shoulder while the palms of his eager hands traced and kneaded the contours of her ass. Sara’s mind had shut down, only registering the exquisite feel of Grissom’s touch and the need burning brighter and hotter within her.

            “Gil, please,” she moaned as she came up for air, his lips having traveled and consumed hers. “Please…”

            Grissom yanked his head back, a raspy breath escaping his lips as his midnight blue eyes burned into hers. Hot sparks danced along Sara’s skin as Grissom slowly licked the taste of her kiss from his lips, the passion in his eyes, hot enough to melt steel, had Sara’s breath hitching.

            Without preamble, Grissom firmly grasped Sara’s ass and lifted her, angling his hips for entrance before impaling her on his scorching shaft. Sara’s head fell back a sigh of relief and pleasure escaping her opened mouth. “Yesss,” she hissed happily.

            “Aww, honey,” Grissom groaned in between kisses. “Feel…so good.”

            With a hum of delight, Sara began to rise and fall, riding Grissom’s heavy cock at a languid pace. Although the tight coil of her desire was twisted deliciously tight, Sara wanted to revel in the fullness of the moment, the press of Grissom’s body under her bouncing hips as he thrust up to meet her again and again.

            Grissom’s big hands settled on Sara’s hips, adjusting the angle of her downward stroke, adding a little scoop to the end of it so that her plump, wet clit would bump along his pubic bone. The added stimulation had Sara adjusting her pace, her hips slamming down faster and faster.

            “More,” she breathlessly demanded her lips crashing into his, devouring him. “More.”

            Grissom could feel the bands of Sara’s desire tightening and knew she was close. Sliding his right palm along Sara’s upper thigh, Grissom slipped his thumb in between her wet lips, easily finding her hot, juicy nub. With a rhythm that matched their thrusting bodies, Grissom’s thumb circled over Sara’s clit again and again and again. Her breath came in hot pants across his face, matching the short choppy breaths escaping his lips.

            “Sara,” Grissom groaned, “come for me, just…come.”

            His plea was Sara’s undoing. With a log whimper, she came. Her world exploded into Technicolor sparks that danced behind her tightly shut eyes as she trembled at the aftermath of her orgasm. It had come on her like a supernova, crashing across every nerve ending in her body, sucking her down into a pool of pure pleasure.

            The first powerful clench of Sara’s inner walls as she came had Grissom coming hard, his hips launching from the seat as he erupted in stream after hot, thick stream. Panting heavily, Grissom fell back against his seat, his hand reaching out to pull Sara down upon his heaving chest. The weight of her against him only added to his overwhelming bliss.

            Sara would have remained just as was forever but knew they were lucky thus far not to have been discovered in flagrante delicto. Raising her head from his shoulder, Sara chuckled, noticing the steamed up driver’s window.

            “Hmm, hope no one noticed the steamy windows,” she teased before leaning down to steal a kiss from Grissom’s smirking lips.

            “Or the rocking car,” he added only to give a soft grunt when Sara raised herself from his lap. The loss of her body causing a flip-flop ache in his belly.

            With Sara settled into her seat, the two lovers went about righting their clothes as best they could. Grissom’s impeccably pressed suit was destined for the cleaners and Sara was certain her dress would be enduring a similar fate. Neither one was willing to complain, the expense well worth it in both their minds.

            “So,” Grissom began, his fingers twisting the ignition to the auxiliary position to allow the defrosters to work on the steamed up windows. “Would you like to come over to my place? Have some coffee? Tea?”

            Sara smiled brightly, loving how Grissom could go from steamy lover to unsure date in a matter of moments. “Yeah,” she said nodding, chuckling a little as well. “I’d like that.”

            Grissom leaned across the center console, the fingers of his left hand coming up to caress Sara’s cheek before planting a soft kiss upon her lips. Parting slowly, Grissom said, “I can’t recall a week in my life that could compare to the past seven days and it is because of you…you’re amazing, Sara, believe in that.”

            Sara reached up and pressed his hand firmly to her cheek before leaning in for one more taste of his lips. She had become addicted to his kisses and was certain no twelve step program would cure her, even if she wanted it. “Thank you,” she whispered, a tiny warble in her voice giving away the depth of her emotions.

            With a crooked smile, Grissom fell back into his seat, his hand reaching out for the ignition before starting the Mercedes. “No, thank you,” he said in a playfully caddish sort of way, adding a wink into the mixture. “It’s been awhile since I had so much fun fogging up a car’s windows.”

            Sara gave him a raised brow, her lips pinching in barely hidden mirth. “Fogged up many car windows?” She asked in challenge.

            Grissom gave a shrug as he pulled the car out of their shadowed parking spot. The noncommittal noise he made telling Sara he was not going to kiss and tell, at least not willingly. The thought of extracting the answers she wanted brought a mischievous grin to Sara’s face as she turned to watch the road, her mind gleefully mulling over the many delightful tricks she had in store for Grissom. Oh, yes, this is one mystery I am going to enjoy solving!