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May 26, 1995
Sara sat quietly, toying with the thin fabric of her commencement gown, the hum of indistinguishable hushed conversations mixed with the drone of the speaker at the podium. She had not bothered going to the graduation ceremony when she had finished at Harvard, having felt it would only be a harsh reminder of what she didn’t have- a family. Instead she had had her diploma mailed to a post office box in San Francisco, since it had been back to California for her, with an acceptance to the Masters program at Berkley waiting for her.
“You have to go,” Grissom had told her when she had nonchalantly informed she had no plans to attend the graduation ceremony.
“I don’t know,” she had chuckled, finding the look of astonishment on his face endearing and amusing all at the same time.
“Sara…I’m serious,” Grissom had pronounced, raising himself from where he had been laying on the couch, his head in Sara’s lap. “It’s a great achievement. You should be proud of yourself.”
Sara rocked her head back and forth playfully, still not sold on the idea.
“I am,” Grissom added thoughtfully, trying to convey his feelings in the sincere look he bathed her in.
Sara’s grin faltered and then radiated as a sense of immense pride and happiness finally washed over her. Strangely it wasn’t the fact that she had achieved her Master’s Degree so much as it was the fact that Gil Grissom was proud of her. It had been a long time since a loved one had uttered those words to her and she hadn’t realized until that moment how important it was.
“Alright,” Sara had softly agreed, “on one condition.”
Sensing Sara’s playfulness, a smirk had slipped upon Grissom’s face as he leaned into Sara. “Name it.”
“You have to come to the ceremony,” Sara had told him, licking her lips seductively, teasing him.
“Just try and keep me away,” he had stated before pouncing on her, eliciting a string of giggles before they had both succumbed to more heady sensations.
* * * * * * * *
October 25, 2001
The case that Grissom found himself on was one of those maddeningly frustrating ones. An apartment covered in blood, lots of blood, a missing tenant and his girlfriend. Sara was the first to note the diameter of the blood drops, the indication was high velocity impact but there were no apparent evidence of gunshots. This could be something or nothing since the case had that odd ever changing and highly irritating amorphous quality about it.
The evidence pointed towards the possible murder of Clifford Renteria’s girlfriend only to have the woman saunter uninjured into the apartment that Grissom, Sara and Warrick were dismantling. Grissom had the strange sensation of never knowing when the zig or zag was coming in the case. It was Sara that helped him see beyond the apparent and “outside the box”.
Manager Stu Evans had been a constant presence throughout their investigation. Not annoying, mildly helpful, but always near. In retrospect, Grissom chastised himself for not questioning the man’s continued presence; the CSI Supervisor was generally suspicious enough to question such things.
The overpowering floral and vanilla smell that permeated Evans apartment was a tell-tale sign. Either the man was covering up some bad meat or something higher up the food chain, as Sara darkly quipped. Evans seemed genuinely surprised when Grissom and Sara knocked on his door and asked to search his apartment, like it had never dawned on him that the tenacious investigators might ask to see the other side of the wall to Renteria’s apartment.
With a warrant in hand, the walls to Stu Evans apartment came crumbling down. When a drop down ironing board, hidden within the walls of Evans’ living room, came tumbling out, Sara could sense that Grissom’s frustration had reached critical mass. With orders to start digging up the floor boards, Grissom marched from the demolished apartment into the night air, pacing with pent up energy.
Focused on the thrumming of his radial pulse, Grissom did not hear the exterior door to apartment building open and close. He wasn’t even aware of Sara’s presence until she laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“Are you okay?” she asked, a smile on her lips but concern in her eyes.
Grissom felt a twinge of embarrassment for letting his aggravation get the best of him. Nodding, Grissom adjusted the dark blue cap on his head before swiping at the thin film of sweat on his upper lip. “Yeah,” he finally muttered, not in the mood for company, even if it was Sara.
Sara knew this side of Grissom well. Brooding, sullen, irritated, Grissom wanted to be left alone but Sara was unwilling to let the man sulk outside. It was a new leaf she was attempting to turn over, feeling she had allowed him too many opportunities in the past to hide behind his dark moods and thoughts.
They both had indulged too much in those dark waters, allowing it to suck the two of them under before ripping them asunder. The remembered pain of the past still had a physical effect on Sara, causing her stomach to twist painfully. Not wanting to go back to that dark period, Sara focused on the present.
“What’s it at?” she asked, noting he was taking his pulse. Sara had always found it interesting that Grissom would measure his anger by how high his pulse rate was, but then having witnessed the normally even-keeled man when he was truly and thoroughly pissed she figured it was best he had some type of gauge.
“Ninety-five,” Grissom told her, dropping his grip on his wrist. Sara knew him too well, he mused silently.
“You’re too hard on yourself.”
“No, no,” Grissom shakes his head. “I’m not mad at me. There’s a body in there and that guy knows where it is!”
Sara knew that contrary to what Grissom said he was angry with himself. He placed a higher standard on himself than anybody else and Sara had often found that lofty bar to be unrealistic. Grissom was good…great at his job, he was intelligent and could glean information from just about anything. And although he seemed to be more than mortal the fact was he was just that- mortal. He could only do so much, regardless of the Olympian standards he set for himself.
“What’s your pulse at now?” she asked, not doing a very good job at hiding the smirk on her face.
Grissom sighed, shifting his cap back on his head not willing to check his pulse rate again. He already knew it had decreased. Sara had the ability to alter his heart rate just by her presence. Most of the time she ramped it up, causing tiny little flutters in his chest but she also had a soothing ability as well. Like a gentle breeze, she could cool his ire without him realizing it.
“You want to take a walk around the block?” Sara asked, already knowing the answer. “Get some air?”
Grissom sighed again. He couldn’t think of anything he would like to do more than take a quiet walk with Sara. “No.”
“Might help,” Sara told him, trying not to press but thinking it might help him get perspective. “Clear your head.”
“I’m fine,” he told her, the heavy weight on his shoulders echoing in his words.
Closing his eyes tiredly, Grissom wished the same wish he always did. He wished things could be the way they were or at least different from what they had become. He had found himself stuck in an emotional purgatory. Not able to go back and unable to make sense of the present.
Regardless of what his over-analytical mind told him, Grissom knew his heart was right. He was inextricably and forever linked to Sara. She was his love of loves and there was no changing that.
Sara could almost feel the turmoil rolling off of Grissom. The melancholy waves nearly sucking the air from her lungs as she watched him, his eyes shut, hiding the tired soul of the man before her. Instinctually Sara reached out to comfort him, placing the palm of her hand gently against the side of his face, her thumb tenderly stroking his cheek.
For a fleeting moment Grissom soaked in Sara’s touch, leaning ever so lightly into the warmth and feel of her. Opening his eyes, Grissom stared into her dark gaze and wished again for the life that should have been theirs.
“Chalk,” Sara let her hand slip from his face, her lie blatant.
Grissom touched the spot where her hand had been, as if by doing so he could hold the feel of her there for just a little while longer.
“I better get back in there,” Sara held his gaze for an instant longer before letting the moment slip away. “Better go wash up.”
Turning, Sara left him to the night as she slipped through the glass door. Grissom lowered his gaze to the ground as he tried to pull in his frayed edges. Steeling himself to the case at hand, Grissom pulled his cap down determined to find the body hidden inside.
* * * * * * * *
May 26, 1995
As soon as she saw him standing next to Ike and Katie, Sara could barely contain the giddy shriek that emanated from her throat. Rushing through the crowd of fellow graduates and well wishers, Sara launched herself at a smiling Grissom who caught her with ease.
“You made it,” she declared, pulling back enough to take in his well loved face.
Grissom gave her his smuggest grin as if the fact that he had arrived only minutes before the ceremony began had been his plan all along. “Come on, Katie got us reservations at Julian’s,” Grissom said, slipping Sara’s hand into his before leading her through the bustling crowd.
The next two and a half hours were the longest she had had to endure in months as she and Grissom dined with friends. Sara normally enjoyed both Katie and Ike’s companionship but all she could think about was being alone with Grissom. It had been six weeks since they had last seen one another, their busy, sometimes chaotic schedules not allowing for either to get away at the right time.
By the time Ike and Katie had dropped her and Gil off in front of her apartment building Sara was prepared to throw the man over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry and scurry off with him.
“You want us to wait?” Katie teased as she leaned out the passenger side of the car.
“Only if you want to camp here until morning,” Sara threw back, pulling Grissom away from the curb and towards the brick building.
“I’ll catch a cab, later,” Grissom called out, allowing Sara to pull him along.
“Like hell you will,” Ike yelled across Katie, laughing as he pulled away.
Sara chuckled as she led Grissom into her building and up the stairs to her apartment. Her body seemed to pulse with energy, matching the rapid tempo of her eager heart. She had missed him so and all she wanted to do was spirit him away from the rest of the world and selfishly keep him to herself.
Reaching her apartment door, Sara quickly fumbled for her key. The task twice as hard as it should have been due to the overly distracting feel of Grissom pressed tightly up against her back, his lips softly brushing the sensitive skin along her neck before reaching the lobe of her right ear.
“What about your roommates?” Grissom whispered, his hot breath igniting a hot, tingling spark that had her nipples puckering and her stomach clenching.
“Gone,” she answered, subconsciously arching her neck for his further exploration.
Grissom smiled into the crook of Sara’s neck before slowly taking the key from her normally adroit fingers and placing it in the lock. “Good.”
They were barely in the apartment when Sara spun on her heels and launched herself at Grissom, her body crashing into his, subsequently slamming the door shut behind Grissom’s back. With a smothered groan, Grissom quickly wrapped his arms around Sara, pulling her tightly to his chest before reaching down to cup her ass and grind erotically against her.
“God, I’ve missed you,” Sara panted in between long, heated kisses. The slide of his warm lips against hers was an aphrodisiac she had lived too long without.
“Missed…you…too,” Grissom declared, setting a blazing train of kisses from Sara’s mouth to her exposed collarbone. “Have I told you…how much I like this dress?”
Sara chuckled, knowing very well how much he enjoyed the black, spaghetti strapped cocktail dress, having caught the man a number of times admiring her and it under a heated gaze. Grissom would deny it to his last breath but he was a very sensual man. So much so, that Sara had come to know the term “making love with his eyes”.
“I kinda had an idea,” she told him, her attention divided between the feel of his hands roaming her lower back and the gentle swell of her ass and the tie she was attempting to loosen.
“Miss Sidle, what are your intentions?” Grissom smiled lopsidedly as he allowed Sara to relieve him of his jacket and tie, throwing it on a nearby chair.
“My intentions?” Sara asked, slipping the top button of Grissom’s dress-shirt. “For you?” Another button slipped free. “Is to have my way with you,” she told him piercing him with a seductress’ gaze and matching grin. “What do you say to that?”
Grissom’s eyes grew dark with desire. Striking with the speed of a serpent, Grissom reached down, grabbing Sara by the ass and hauled her off her feet, her dress bunched around her hips as her legs wrapped around his waist. “You’ll have to beat me to it,” he declared before kissing her hungrily and walking her, still wrapped around his body, down the hall that led to the bedrooms of the apartment.
* * * * * * * *
October 26, 2001
Grissom, Warrick and Sara watched as Jim Brass placed Stu Evans in the back of the waiting black and white. The flashing red and blue lights strobing off the brick building and surrounding landscape were almost painful to the eyes in the pre-dawn darkness. Smacking the roof of the police cruiser, Brass let the officer behind the wheel know Stu Evans was ready to go.
Grissom watched the murdering husband as he gazed outside the car window, still wearing a look somewhere between boredom and confusion. The man had crossed a line that should never have been approached and from then on his life had been one bungled attempt after the next to hide his crime. The thing that boggled Grissom’s mind was the fact that Evans truly believed he was going to get away with murdering his wife. With a shake of his head he looked to Sara and Warrick.
“It’s been a long shift,” he told them, taking in their sweaty, haggard appearances and knowing he probably didn’t look any better. “Why don’t you two clock out and head home. I’ll take care of logging the evidence and checking the equipment back in.”
Warrick perked up at Grissom’s words. “Really? Hey, thanks Gris,” he said pushing the cap back on his head. “I have plans with a fine lady at the marina for lunch. Now I’ll have a chance to grab a few Zs before hand.”
A soft pat on Sara’s shoulder and a grateful nod to Grissom and Warrick was bounding off to bum a ride back to the lab with Brass, leaving Grissom and Sara alone once again.
A noticeable silence descended upon the two, not uncomfortable but there. The police were taking Stu Evans to police headquarters, the assistant coroner was on his way to the morgue and the crowd of looky-loos had all gone home. It was just them, again, outside-alone. Grissom could almost hear the gears in Sara’s brain whirring as she tried to think up something to say. Sara was an over-communicator, never good at the silence but that had been one of the many things he had found perfect between them. He had never been a big talker and Sara just had to…and he had loved to listen to her.
“I’ll help you with the equipment,” Sara finally said but somehow Grissom knew that wasn’t what she had wanted to say.
It was pretend time again. Pretend that that was exactly what she had wanted to say. Pretend that he didn’t know there was more behind her words or that he wanted to say something other than the banal words he was about to utter. Pretend that everything between them wasn’t so fucked up!
“Alright,” he said, pretending that was the only thing he had to say.
God! He wondered if the dull ache that had come to reside permanently in his chest would ever go away. Probably not.
“Sara,” he began, wanting to say something that would right the world for both of them.
A heavy stillness seemed to descend upon them. The sounds of distant traffic traveling loudly in the silence.
“You know, Gil, one of the things that I realized after I got the papers…you know, after you signed them and we were legally over…was that sometimes the evidence lies…sometimes its what you can’t see that is the truth, sometimes words are just…masking what is really there.” From the slightly fearful and confused look playing on Grissom’s face Sara could tell she had said to much or maybe not enough but she was too scared to take that extra step. Gil had to meet her at least part way.
Grissom felt the most insane need to run away, to rail at the fates that had driven them apart, to kick himself for failing her, failing them to…pull her into his arms and tell her everything was going to be alright. Instead he just stood there, rooted to the ground, afraid.
“I’ll take these.” Sara bent down to retrieve their two silver kits sitting on the sidewalk. Instinctively Sara knew the conversation was at an end.
“Okay,” he mumbled, his brain working on the puzzle Sara had left him.
“Meet you at the truck,” Sara said, walking away.
“Sometimes the evidence lies…” What evidence? Masked words? There had been lots of words spoken, at least on Sara’s part. Grissom admitted to himself that he had become completely dysfunctional in communicating at the end of their marriage. He didn’t know what to say. Nothing would take away her pain or his and when he had tried to say something it had always been the worst thing he could possibly say. I always seemed to make it worse, make her sadder.
He gathered up the sledge hammers, flipping one up on each shoulder. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked her to stay?
Almost as soon as he thought it, Grissom was rebuking himself for it. Sara was the perfect choice, the best choice for the job. This was his problem. He would just have to find away to get past his feelings for her. It is the best for both of us, he thought trying miserably to convince himself of it.
* * * * * * * * * * *
May 27, 1995
Even the intrusive sliver of morning sun making its way past Sara’s bedroom window curtains and into Grissom’s face couldn’t dull the sated, blissful feeling that washed over him as he slowly woke. Turning from the window to look at the bedside clock, Grissom chuckled as he relaxed back into the pillow, one arm falling across his forehead to block the light while his right hand absently rubbed at his bare chest. He’d only been asleep for a few hours and, sure, he was tired but Lord was he happy!
Throwing the white sheet that covered his lower body aside, Grissom padded, naked, to Sara’s bedroom door. Cracking the door, Grissom tentatively stuck his head into the hall, looking for his missing girlfriend. Sara had told him her roommates were gone for the weekend but Grissom decided caution was the better part decency, so to speak, and before venturing out into the open decided to use the sheet as cover.
“Sara?”
The apartment that Sara shared with her roommates was in an older building but had obviously been designed for family living. With three bedrooms and two baths, it was quite spacious. Not as large as Grissom’s townhouse but decent for set of young people trying to finish up various college degrees.
Sara’s bedroom was one of the two smaller rooms and was closest to the livingroom. Cocking his head around the corner, Grissom could see the livingroom and nearby diningroom were empty. “Sara?” He called out again, turning his search towards the bathroom that was kitty corner to Sara’s bedroom.
Sara had awoke to the most wonderful sight she had seen in awhile, a sleeping Gil Grissom. His hair was longer than when she had seen him last and was at that moment and endearing mess atop his head. In sleep, his handsome features took on a boyish charm that caused her whimsical smile to grow as she enjoyed a few moments to admire him.
She was sorely tempted to wake him and see if he was “up” to round four but decided a shower and breakfast should come first. She had him for the next twenty-four hours and had already decided that she would conduct several highly advanced and thorough experiments on the esteemed Dr. Grissom and they all involved him naked!
The light rapping at the bathroom door caught Sara’s attention as she rinsed the shampoo from her hair. “Gil?”
A moment passed before Sara heard the frosted glass doors to the shower slide open. Turning, she was met by a pair of sparkling blue eyes and a playful smile. “Yes,” Grissom answered, sliding the palms of his hands along the top of her hipbones and gently pulling her forward. “I wondered where you had run off to.”
“Didn’t run anywhere, sleepy-head,” Sara said, her hands finding a need to touch him as they traveled the delicious expanse of his smooth chest before twining behind his neck. “I just decided a shower was getting to be a priority.”
Grissom gave Sara a smile that oozed sensuality. His hands caressed the flesh at her sides as they ran up her ribcage only to slowly descend, rounding her hip to take a firm grasp of her ass. “Mmm,” was his only response as he dipped his head to taste the beckoning skin at the crook of Sara’s neck.
Sara offered up the warm flesh, a willing offering to their rising ardor. Grissom’s tongue was like hot brand searing his mark upon her body, causing hot sparks of desire to cascade down throughout her body igniting nerves and flesh as they fell. “Yessss,” Sara hissed, delighting in the feel of his mouth as it roamed across her upper torso on its way to the opposite side of her neck.
Grissom’s strong hands gripped Sara’s hips, holding her tightly as he ground provocatively against her. The prominent ridge of his growing erection pressed firmly against her lower belly sent a jolt of white hot fire flooding through her body, causing Sara to growl and thrust her hands into his hair.
“I want you,” Sara demanded before crashing her mouth hungrily to his.
Grissom groaned in pleasure and pain at Sara’s ferocity. Everything about Sara amazed him, thrilled him, tantalized him. The attraction between them was something he would have scoffed at as the stuff of smutty romance novels, had he not been an awestruck participant. The love he felt for her he could not quantify in a million different equations and the sex…
Grissom was astounded at their crazy, amazing, astounding sex life. It wasn’t just sex. It was beyond sex. It was raw energy mixed with elemental emotions. They could rival the sun in intensity and heat and he was certain time and time again he was dying in her arms, a willing sacrifice.
“Sara,” he whispered as she trailed kisses across his bare, wet chest.
Sara gently ran her fingers down his well muscled arms, halting at his elbow to change course and explore his abdomen. With the palms of her hands flat against his stomach, Sara mapped every nuance of his body as she caressed his smooth skin, traveling up over his abdomen to the hard expanse of his chest. She greedily sought every inch of his flesh, kneading, touching, teasing, igniting his skin under her touch.
When her hand sought the hot iron of his erection, Sara and Grissom moaned in unison. With deft hands she pumped his length in slow, agonizingly slow, motions, causing Grissom to swallow hard as he tried to control his desire for her. The need to grab hold of her and bury himself deep within her heat was almost unbearable. Instead, Grissom sucked in a calming breath, if that was what it could be called, and let Sara have her way with him for the moment.
A sultry smile was his reward as Sara continued to draw his length up and down and up and down, her talented hands doing wondrous things to Grissom, eliciting groan after satisfied groan. “Feels…so…good,” Grissom grunted in tempo to the motion of her hand.
Slipping his hands along Sara’s jawline, Grissom hungrily sought her lips with a need so hot it almost hurt not to kiss her. His firm lips sliding masterfully over Sara’s lips, tasting mint toothpaste and desire with each sweep of his questing tongue. Grissom was certain that he could kiss Sara forever, that the touch and taste of her lips could sustain him for the rest of his life and if it didn’t…well, he’d still die the happiest man to ever live.
“Sara, honey,” Grissom almost hissed as he pulled his hips away from her hands divine ministrations.
Before Sara could protest, Grissom turned her slowly and pulled her back up against his chest, pinning her in his embrace. “Shhh,” he sounded softly in her ear, his right hand smoothing down her stomach as his left sought out and kneaded the gentle flesh of one breast. “My turn.”
Sara trembled at Grissom’s words spoken with such heated promise. With a heavy, contented sigh her head lolled back to rest on his left shoulder. “Yes,” she whispered in agreement, luxuriating in the feel of his strong heads touching, roaming, caressing every inch of her excited skin.
Grissom held her lithe form tightly to his body. His left arm a gentle prison across her upper body, his left hand paying perfect and delicious attention to her right breast. Sara’s body tingled with every square inch of contact. The showers waters made their bodies slick, adding just the right amount of pressure and slide as Grissom’s hands explored her body with great dedication.
Sara’s hissed intake of breath as Grissom nibbled along her neckline let him know just what he was doing to her. “You’ve bewitched me,” Grissom huskily whispered in her ear in between gentle nips and licks. “I think about you always…I love you and can’t get enough of you,” he confessed, turning her just barely so that Sara could tilt her head enough for him to capture her lips.
Moans echoed within the shower, punctuated only by an accompanied groan and the soft, slick noise of their mouths and bodies moving, grinding against one another. The beat of the water, mimicking the flutter of their hearts, was merely background sound to their sexual symphony.
“Gil...” Sara had something to say but couldn’t form a coherent enough thought to express it. “Oh, oh, yesss,” she exhaled as his right hand slowly slid the length of her abdomen, down across her hipbone and along her upper thigh before probing her inner thighs. “Oh yes,” she moaned, feeling her hunger build as his hands and fingers teased her. So close, so close, she agonized.
The gyration of Sara’s hips as she chased the stroking of Grissom’s hands had her rubbing and grinding her ass in a sensual dance against Grissom’s thick member. The pressure of her perfectly rounded bottom as it rolled and pushed against him was exquisite torture, causing Grissom to drop his head back, the tip of his tongue wetting his lips as he sighed loudly.
At last, Grissom’s hand brushed up against the apex of her thighs, his fingers delving into her juicy folds to explore her hot center. To feel the proof of her desire, to hear her whimpers of pleasure set Grissom’s blood to boil and if he thought he was hard before, he was certain he had been wrong. The glorious, painful pressure building in his balls was becoming almost too much to bear.
Sara could feel the sharp pangs of her desire building with each swirl of his wicked fingers around her clit. She was tormented by the need to press her swollen nub to his talented fingers and pressed back against the sinfully delicious feel of his cock pressed firmly against her ass.
“Gil, please,” she said, pulling away from the arm that held her against his back and bending over. Placing her hands on the back of the shower wall, Sara eagerly presented Grissom with her pert ass. “I want you, in me, now,” she demanded, piercing him with hot, sultry gaze that had Grissom growling his acquiescence.
Pulling his hips back, Grissom took hold of his bobbing erection and placed it at her entrance, teasing her as he rolled the head at the very opening. Sara gritted her teeth in hungry desperation as she bucked back, impaling herself on his iron shaft. A moan of delight escaped her lips at the full, exquisite feel of his penetration. “Yesss,” she whispered.
The muscles at Grissom’s jaw flexed as he gritted his teeth at the immense pleasure that flooded his groin. Taking a long calming breath in through his nose, Grissom quelled his natural instinct to grab her by her hips and piston into her.
“Mmm, be careful, honey,” he warned, his voice raw with need, his fingers returning to their sensual caress at her core.
Grissom rolled his hips in time to his fingers, the erotic dance causing Sara’s breaths to come in a combination of short choppy pants and long sighs of desire. Sara, delighting in Grissom’s sensual movements, sinuously rolled her hips in perfect rhythm to his. The friction causing the heat between them to radiate outward, their bodies warm and flush with their mounting desire.
They continued their sexual dance for sometime until Sara began to feel the pressure of her orgasm building deep within her core. “Gil,” she hissed, moving his fingers from her slick, swollen clit. “Now, I’m…now…” she panted, replacing his fingers with her own.
Grissom understood her inarticulate moans. Taking hold of Sara’s hips in both his hands, Grissom began to pump into her. The knowledge that her fingers rubbed at her nub and the sight of his cock thrusting into Sara had Grissom racing to the precipice of his desire. In, out, in, out he thrust, Sara’s body rocking to the same wicked beat of his driving hips.
“Oh god, oh, yes…yes,” Sara panted, her body coiling tighter and tighter. “Yes, so close, I’m…I’m…COMMMMING!”
Sara’s walls clamped tightly around his rigid shaft, pulsing hard. Her liquid heat suckled at him, her scream of desire sending a white hot spark shooting through his balls. With a heavy groan, Grissom’s release exploded in steaming, pulsing jets, filling her with his warm fluid.
Grissom partially collapsed on Sara, his upper body lying against her quivering back, his lips planting soft, sated kisses along her shoulder blades as his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.
“I love you,” Sara softly said, still trying to catch her breath.
Reluctantly, Grissom pulled himself from Sara’s warm core, the loss of the contact causing him to groan quietly. “I love you,” he declared, pulling her up and turning her in his arms. “I can’t describe it adequately enough because there are no words for it but I do love you.”
Sara felt the pressure of tears building between her eyes. She could count on one hand the times she had been reduced to ‘happy’ tears and they all involved the man lovingly holding her. He wasn’t a big talker but what he said held such deep meaning that Sara never doubted the veracity of them.
Nodding, Sara wrapped her arms tightly around her neck. She understood what he was saying because it was the same for her. The words to describe the depth and degree of her love for Grissom had not been made. It was something elemental, tangible yet ethereal. It was…everything!
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