Waiting
to testify in court wasn’t his favorite part of
forensics, not by a long shot, and especially in a slow-moving trial
like this
one. Fighting his fidgets, Grissom reviewed the case in his mind,
wishing it
were over, and longing to be anywhere but here. His thoughts turned to
a few of
those places in particular, but this was neither the time nor place for
them
and reluctantly he tried to put his focus back on the case. The
evidence. The
testimony.
His cell
phone rang. He fished it out, grateful for
something to do.
“Grissom—“
“I
want you.”
Grissom
stared into the phone, not daring to speak and break
the spell of the moment. Powerful words. A low, familiar voice saying
them,
only faintly distorted by the electronic medium they were coming
through, but
still charged with meaning and insinuation. He took a breath, keeping
his tone
level.
“You
have me.”
“Not
the way I WANT you,” purred her voice into his ear.
“Not even close.”
“And
how, exactly, would that be?” he looked up and around,
worried about being overheard, but here in the empty hallway outside
courtroom
number 8, no one else was around as the recess stretched on.
“Oh
you KNOW what I want. You know exactly what I want.”
Those sexy, potent words slipped into his ear, circled his brain, then
dropped
straight into his boxers.
He drew
in another breath; forcing himself to keep calm even
he spoke up.
“I
think I could accommodate you in about an hour.”
“That
long?” came her soft pout. “I don’t think
I’ll last. I
need to tell you what I’m thinking, Grissom and I know
you’re only a few feet
away from a bathroom—don’t make me wait, babe. Go
in, get in a stall.”
He
paused, considering it, then sighed regretfully.
“I
can’t. The recess is going to end in twenty-two
minutes—“
he warned softly, fighting his body’s tingly reaction to that
sultry commanding
voice, filled with hot, teasing vice.
Her soft
laugh echoed through the phone. “Do you even know
where I am right now?”
“No.”
“I’m
in the parking garage six floors under you. It’s dark
and cool here, and very deserted. Good thing, too, because
I’ve gotten much
more . . . comfortable while I wait for you.”
“That’s
foolish,” he snapped automatically, as images filled
his mind and his pulse picked up on them. Comfortable meant partially
undressed, always a risk in public. He turned to face the wall, his
voice lower
now. “Very foolish.”
“Maybe.
But my case ended early. Good thing, too because
it’s been a long time since I took my panties down for you
and I’m getting
incredibly horny here.”
“Shhhh—“
he warned, his face reddening. Undaunted her voice
came back in a sultry whisper.
“Oh
come on, we’re talking almost two weeks, and I’m
going
crazy here, Grissom. Do you even remember the last time I had your big
hot cock
in my mouth?”
“Dinner
break after Warrick’s birthday party—“ he
blurted,
feeling foolish and giddy. The naughty giggle in his ear
didn’t help as he
shifted on his feet.
“Ohhh
yeah. Wasn’t that when we took a moment to restock our
kits together behind a closed supply closet door?”
He
remembered. God yes—lights off, fumbling in the dark
crowded cupboard, feeling her hands eagerly unzipping him, her face
rubbing
against his bare thighs before her mouth—
“Honey,
not now—“ he croaked, mouth dry. She laughed again
in return, letting it fade away in to a little moan.
“Oh
Grissom—don’t even pretend you’re not in
the mood. You
might be able to fool everyone else, but not me. I know how hot you
get, how
much you love getting nasty.”
And it
was true, he admitted to himself as he closed his
eyes quickly. All too true. From their first lingering kiss, Grissom
had fallen
hard. They’d made love, which was sweet and rich with
emotional commitment and
quiet joy, yes. Grissom had learned about fidelity and love through
her,
quietly marveled at their clandestine devotion to each other. A
beautiful thing
he’d never thought he’d find in his lifetime.
But
then, ohhhh—
There
was the OTHER side she loved to taunt him with, the
sheer animal pleasure of making him react, hard and urgently. Years of
denied
carnality, of dutifully avoided sensuality had been burned away by that
first
sweet teasing flick of her tongue into his mouth. Every sensible,
civilized
reaction disappeared in the heat and taste and thrill of sex.
Of
fucking.
He ran a
hand down his thigh, willing himself not to harden
and failing miserably. Not something he could walk into the courtroom
with,
even in a dark suit. He groaned a little. Hearing it, she sighed.
“I
didn’t actually take my panties OFF you know, just pulled
them down past my thigh-highs. Good thing we have these velour seats in
the
“That—“
he growled into the phone as he tried to sound
authoritative and unaffected, “--Is far too risky. What if
someone walks by?”
“They’d
have to press right up against a tinted window to
get a peek at something soft and fluffy nestled between my thighs then,
wouldn’t they?”
Grissom
said a very bad word and shot a look up the hall at
the sign for the men’s room, wondering if he dared risk it.
There wasn’t much
traffic in the building at this point in the afternoon, and according
to his
watch the recess would last another 18 minutes—
“Oh
come on, Grissom, don’t you want to hear about what
I’m
doing down here?” came her soft question.
“That
is not a fair question—“ he retorted a little
sharply,
his voice louder than he’d intended. His feet were moving,
taking him down the
hall in slow steps.
“You
could always hang up on me.”
“That
would be rude.”
“And
unsatisfying. Oooh, you know, I have my hand right
where I wish yours was right now—“
“Too
many places that could be. Your hip. Your thigh. Your .
. . tangle of temptation.” He muttered, tucking his chin down
against his
chest, feeling foolish and tingly.
God.
Phone sex. He’d barely thought of such a thing, always
assumed it was a matter of foul language and heavy breathing. But
hearing her
voice, knowing she was perfectly capable, hell, absolutely impulsive
enough to
be down in the car with her underwear around her slender
thighs— his pace
quickened.
“Oh yeah . . . I definitely like velour, Grissom. It’s sensual. And I can shift the vanity mirror on the visor to watch myself.”
“Shit!”
he involuntarily snapped. His good shoes sounded
loud on the linoleum flooring and he glanced around once more, seeing
only a
bored security guard far, far down at the other end of the hall. He
reached the
bathroom door.
“I’m
not happy about this—“ he admitted in a strangled
tone.
All he got in response was a low, husky laugh.
The
bathroom was big, and empty. The stolid smell of urinal
disinfectant hung in the still air, and Grissom hesitated, looking at
the tiled
walls, avoiding his guilty reflection in the mirror over the sinks.
“Ohhh.
Grissom, I hate to tell you this, but I’m starting
without you here—“ she groaned gently. He tensed,
sensual images and memories
of her flooding his mind. Long clever fingers, parted slender thighs,
the
gorgeous pink valley between, sleek and hidden among the impossibly
soft curls
. . .
Swiftly
he strode to the furthest stall and slammed the bolt
shut behind him, then fumbled at his belt, cursing himself even as he
struggled
with his clothing. Over the phone he heard a little giggle.
“Tipping
the seat back to get comfy—hey, are you still
listening to me?”
“Damn
it, you KNOW I am—“ Grissom growled helplessly even
as
his other fist closed over his insistent erection. Part of his mind
stood back
and snickered at the picture he knew he presented: Doctor Gil Grissom,
entomologist, expert witness for the prosecution, whacking off in a
men’s room
stall in the county courthouse.
Then she
moaned a little; that breathy little sigh he knew
so well. He throbbed.
“Ohhh.
Man, I haven’t had to resort to this since we’ve
been
fucking each other, but I need to get off, Gris . . .”
“H-honey
. . .” he whispered, lost in sensation as he
stroked himself, picturing her clearly, writhing on the car seat,
touching
herself . . .
“Mmmmm—“
she agreed, the sound of her breathing faster in
his ear. Grissom felt his pulse pounding, his skin flush with heat. He
thrust
himself through one damp fist, tensing with the pleasure, trying not to
make a
sound, but it felt so raw and sweet that he gritted his teeth to hold
back the
noise.
“Oh
God, I need it too—“ he grunted back into the
phone. She
gave a loud sigh of delight, picking up on his choked voice. He widened
his
stance.
“Ohh
yeah---stroking that big hot meat of yours?”
He made
a soft noise of assent, feeling the slow buildup of
pleasure deep in his balls. She gave a breathless squeal.
“Shit
I wish I could see that—kiss it, lick it for you,
babe, you’d LIKE that wouldn’t you?”
Grissom
panted a little, his stroke increasing, his pulse
hard and fast now as he gritted his teeth and replied in a low nearly
guttural
tone, “Yes. Fuck, yessss.”
“OhhhGodgonnacomebabyohhhhhh--”
she howled softly into the
receiver, and Grissom felt himself respond with lightning grace, the
thick
surge of searing pleasure washing in a hot wave down his stomach and
through
his turgid cock as it erupted in thick pulsing white spurts, spilling
away into
the bowl before him. He swayed, bracing his wet hand on the tile wall
in front
of him as the phone shifted against his sweaty ear.
“Oooohhh
damn it, I HEARD that. I can’t believe you came
with me, Grissom! We are totally messed up, you understand that, right?
God I
love you—“ she laughed weakly, her voice low and
husky, her tone drained and
happy. He shivered a little, letting her words wash over him, and even
though
he tried not to smile it was impossible not to.
Phone
sex. Damn.
“I
love you too. I’m now standing in a stall with enough of
my own DNA splashed around to establish my presence here, and before
you ask,
yes it was good for me too.”
She
laughed again. “Better wash your hands and check your
tie before you get back into Judge Foster’s court.
Don’t want any unsightly
stains you know.”
“You’re
picking up the dry-cleaning bill,” he countered, his
voice sounding almost normal.
“That’s
not all I’m picking up. Did you know I can support a
hundred and eighty pound man on my bare stomach?”
“I
had no idea.”
“Come
on over when you’re through in court and I’ll show
you—“ she promised, hanging up.
Grissom
stepped out of the men’s room a few minutes later,
hands clean, tie straight, smirk almost gone. People were in the hall
now, and
one of them approached him with a worried look.
“Hey,
there you are. Sara got off early.”
“I know,” Grissom replied to Nick with a faint smile, “I just had her on the phone.”
END
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