In Other Words

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.


“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?”


“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 Denali. Feels wonderful on my bare ass.”

“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.”



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