DISCLAIMER: "CSI: Crime Scene Investigation" and other related entities are owned, trademarked, and copyrighted by Anthony E. Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer Television, CBS Worldwide Inc., Alliance Atlantis Corporation, CSI Productions and CBS Productions. This is fanfiction and is written purely for the enjoyment of fans, and the author acknowledges that no profit is made from the writing and/or distribution of said writing.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
By Amy Jo
A few drinks. That's all it was supposed to be. A few turned into a lot. Turned into not being able to drive and catching a cab home. Turned into the best night I've had in a very long time.
The bartender called the cab, she leaned against the outside wall of the bar as we waited. When the cab arrived I slid across the backseat, leaving the door open for her to follow. She stood there until the cabbie finally yelled out the window to see if she was coming with us. She took extra precaution in her steps to the cab and slumped against me, asleep, the minute she sat inside.
All these years, I've never learned her address. And my brain wasn't working enough to simply pull out her wallet and check her driver's license. No, I simply gave the cabbie my address and brought her home with me.
It was complicated getting her out of the backseat, and the cabbie offered no help even though I tipped him generously and it was obvious that I was having a hard time. The cab waited and watched in my driveway as she leaned heavily against me, barely able to move her own legs up the walk to my door. I saw his headlights moving after I fumbled with my keys for two minutes before actually managing to get the door open.
She leaned heavily against me as I guided her through the house. I didn't even think to drop her on the couch, just right to the bed. It's a slight bit of a struggle to get her out of her boots; as soon as I laid her on the bed she passed out again.
I leave her asleep on top of the covers as I wander into the bathroom to change out of my work clothes. When I return she has rolled over on her side facing the opposite wall. I briefly wonder if I should wake her long enough to offer something to sleep in that will be more comfortable than the jeans and tank she is wearing, but she is sleeping like the dead and my effort would be wasted.
I slip under the top blanket and almost immediately fall asleep. Minutes, or hours, later I wake to the unfamiliar feeling of a warm body pressed against mine. Unfamiliar, but not entirely uncomfortable.
I wasn't so drunk that I didn't remember who that body was. But I was so drunk that my bladder was screaming for relief. I tried moving slowly out from under the arm that was thrown casually over my side. My first attempt at moving got me pulled closer to Sara as she mumbled something. I could feel her breath on my neck and every inch of her long body pressed tightly against me.
The second time I try to move she releases me, and I am grateful. I slide out of bed without a glance at her, hurrying to the bathroom. Only when I return do I notice the tank she was wearing is now tossed on the floor at the foot of the bed. She's still lying on top of the blankets, only now wearing just a bra and her jeans.
Trying not to think about my reaction to the sight of her too much, I lay back down. She mumbles something again and immediately reaches out to me. Without the barrier of the blanket between us, I can feel the heat radiating off her skin. It's no wonder she tossed off her tank top, her skin feels like it's burning.
Her breath on the back of my neck sends waves of goose bumps down my spine. I shudder slightly from the feeling and Sara sleepily takes that movement to mean that I am cold and she presses closer to me. I am definitely not cold. I decide that it was a mistake to get back into bed and I try to pull away again.
"No." For someone I thought was sleeping, her voice is alarmingly clear.
"Sara?" I speak quietly.
I might not be able to see her, but it is obvious that she isn't sleeping anymore.
"I think I should," I want to roll over and look at her, but I'm afraid that if I do she will be able see into me and know exactly why I don't think it's a good idea for me to stay here.
Maybe it's all the drinks she had or the sleepiness still just barely evident in her voice, but that low timber spoken so softly and so close to my ear is wreaking havoc on my senses.
"I think I should go," I repeat, more for myself than for her.
Sara sighs heavily and I can feel the hairs on my neck standing up in response. Her grip loosens and I think for a minute that now is my chance. If I leave this bed right now, I won't manage to embarrass myself.
Before I move a single inch, I find myself lying on my back, with her long body covering mine. Her movement is quick and fluid, much too graceful for someone as drunk as she supposedly was. She stares down at me, her eyes dancing with playfulness, and simply asks, "Why?"
Because there's a beautiful woman lying topless in my bed and I'm way too tempted to reach out and discover if that skin is as soft as it looks. Because the heat radiating from her skin is changing my own body temperature. Because looking into her eyes right now makes me wonder what they might look like if I brush my fingers across her silk covered breasts, or if slip a few fingers inside the waistband of her jeans and tickle the skin of her hips.
When I open my mouth no words come out. For a second I'm grateful, she doesn't need to hear what my answers to that simple question were. But when her eyes darken just a little more and that smirk spreads across her face I suddenly wish I had said something. That look scares and excites me at the same time; I'm scared of what might happen next and yet very excited that something might happen.
She hovers above me, watching the effect she is having on me. From the change in her eyes I'd be willing to say that she very much enjoys my reaction to her nearness. She sinks down and her lips are close enough to mine that I can feel her breath.
"Why?" Her voice is sultry low and I briefly wonder if she said anything at all.
This time I'm sure I'm going to answer and that I will say something meaningless, like how I don't know what's happening here, or maybe I'll ask if she really knows what's happening here. I try to say something, I'm even fairly certain my mouth moved. But then she's even closer I can taste the chapstick on her lips.
Shock keeps me still as Sara kisses me. Her kiss is an exploration, nothing more than her learning the contours of my lips and the flavor of the inside of my mouth. She pulls away, a glint of humor in her eye.
"Still think you should go?"
What I think and what I want are two very different things right now. "I think..."
"Or would you rather stay here with me?" Sara asks with a smirk as one of her hands finds its way under the bottom hem of my shirt.
Her fingers dance lightly over the skin there, and while in a different situation that move would elicit a bout of giggles, right now I seem to be having a different reaction. The smile on her face only grows as she watches the struggle behind my eyes.
"I really think..." And I can't think anymore because her head has dipped down again, her lips sucking gently on my ear. Her teeth take a gentle nip before she lets go.
"I want you," she whispers in a husky tone.
The effect those words have on the throbbing between my legs startles me. Three words and my libido kicks into overdrive. My hands finally move from their frozen position on the bed; I'm almost scared that when my hands touch her skin she will disappear in a cloud of smoke and I will wake up from this dream.
Her skin is just as soft as I had thought it would be. I hear her gasp at that first touch, and her body shudders as my hands glide up and down in short strokes. The reactions I can see and feel only encourage me more. I let my hands wander further up her back, luxuriating in the flex and roll of her muscles. Her arm trembles as she struggles to keep from collapsing onto me.
My fingers slip under the fabric of her bra and her sharp intake of breath tickles my skin. Her lips move down my neck and I can feel my pulse thundering in response. My own breathing falters as I feel her sucking a bit of skin into her mouth as her hand moves further underneath my shirt.
A few quick movements of my fingers and the clasp of her bra is undone. At first it doesn't seem that she noticed, but when my hands move down her side to cup soft flesh I feel her bite down a little less than gentle on the skin in her mouth. I yelp in surprise but quickly forget the pain when Sara makes a low and lusty sound. Somewhere between a moan and a growl, it is the sexiest sound I've heard in a very, very long time.
She pulls her lips from my skin and drops her head to my shoulder, gasping for breath as my thumbs move in circles closer and closer to her nipples. I enjoy the quickening pace of her breathing and the fact that my movements seem to be distracting her enough that she's having a hard time holding herself above me.
The hand under my shirt has stopped moving, and if I weren't so absorbed in her reactions I'd be pushing at that hand to get it closer to where I want it to be. She moans into my shirt when my thumbs finally tease the hard peaks, and when I gently tug on them her strength seems to give out and she collapses onto me.
"God Cath," she says even as she pushes herself up again.
She straddles my hips and sits above me. Skin flush with heat and lust burning in her eyes she moves her arms to toss the bra to the floor. My eyes are riveted to the newly revealed flesh even as my fingers fumble with the buttons on her jeans. Buttons freed, Sara watches me intently as I prop myself up and slip my hand quickly past the only remaining barrier.
I have to know, need to feel, her excitement. My fingers slip into wet, hot flesh and she bucks against me, seeking more contact even as I move my fingers back out. It's too soon to keep going, but I wanted to feel her heat against my hands.
Still somewhat sitting up, I move to lift my shirt off. Sara's hands reach out and grab my arms, and she quietly says, "No."
Slightly confused I stop, sitting still and waiting for her to say or do something. My body pulses with need, everything I want so close but with that one word it feels so very far away. There was no way to misread her actions, but now I worry I've crossed some line.
Her lower body moves further down the bed and she pulls me all the way up into a sitting position. That mischievous smile of hers returns and her hand slides down my arm, stopping at my wrist. She pulls my hand close to her intently examining the fingers still slick with the evidence of her desire. Her head ducks down and she lifts her eyes to meet mine as her tongue tastes my fingers.
The electricity in my veins short-circuits my other senses. I feel her tongue swirling around each finger one at a time and my body throbs in time with the delicious feeling. Her eyes burn into mine and I'm surprised that I haven't burned from the inside out and been reduced to a pile of ash.
This feeling is new, a desire so strong I'm almost certain I'm going to pass out. A moan from deep inside my soul wrenches free as she uses her other hand to push my shirt up, only releasing my fingers when it's necessary to completely remove the cotton t-shirt.
She pushes forward, forcing me on my back again. Almost immediately her lips wrap around a nipple, she repeats that swirling motion with her tongue. I have one hand buried in her hair, keeping her lips there and the other hand grips the sheets of the bed in a vain attempt to keep me grounded.
She teases my flesh with her lips, moving easily from one breast to the other, dropping light kisses in the valley between. She licks at the skin of my stomach, amused at the twitching of the muscles underneath. Her tongue pushes into my navel, and I am on the brink.
Writhing underneath her, openly begging for a more purposeful touch I barely notice as her hands slide under my hips and tug at the back of my shorts. She has to repeat my name several times before I become aware of her struggle. I lift my hips to aid her and lose myself in the feel of her hands as they slide across my skin and down my legs. The last of my clothes gone, her lips return to the flesh of my stomach and I am left unsatisfied.
"Sara please," I beg. My throat is parched and my voice cracks as I try to speak. She looks up at me and I know what she wants to hear. "Sara please. I want you."
The words spark a new fire in her eyes and I feel the very tip of her finger as it searches my wetness. My hips buck toward her, wanting more. She watches my reaction to her as that teasing finger slips inside. My satisfied moan is loud and apparently all the encouragement she needed to slide a second finger inside.
Too soon my orgasm is near; I can feel my heart pumping rapidly, heated blood rushing as my body clenches around her fingers and pulls her deeper inside. She moves slightly and I feel her tongue flick across hardened flesh just before I become lost in waves of pleasure.
I feel lightheaded and my breathing is labored. Her lips press against mine and I kiss back hungrily. I can taste myself on her lips and it sparks new desire. A desire to touch and taste her, to hear her pleasure and know I am the reason for it.
I'm nearly too lethargic to move, but her hands moving across my skin in now familiar patterns stirs my libido, and my energy. My legs wrap firmly around her waist, pulling her closer. At some point she removed her jeans and my legs come in contact with bare skin as they slide down the back of her thighs and pull her toward me.
Sara makes a surprised sound when I lock my legs behind her and use the leverage to roll her onto her back. The moan she makes when I lift up and slide a thigh between her legs sends shivers of arousal down my spine. I press into her, feeling her wetness coat my thigh.
She moves against me, slowly lifting her hips up from the bed. I'm amazed at how quick my libido has bounced back when I feel myself responding enthusiastically to the feel of her pressed against me. She rests her hands on my hips, grip strong but not bruising, just enough to keep me where she wants me, where I can give her the most pleasure.
I want more. I lean down and kiss her, tongue tracing her lips before slipping inside her waiting mouth. I try to gain some control through the kiss, but she responds with just as much desire. I'm surprised at how much I want her to give me that control over her, to let me kiss her forcefully as if I can convey all my desire in that one action.
My lips move down her neck, tasting the salty tang of the sweat caused by our exertions. I lavish attention on the hollow of her throat, her moans vibrating my lips, a delicious sensation. My thigh moves slowly away from her as I slide a little further down her body and she protests.
"Ca-ath," she draws out my name, stuttering when I tug at her nipple with my teeth. The husky sound of her voice and the way she grinds into me, seeking the contact I've taken away has an immediate effect on my desire for her.
I'm trying to hold myself back, to learn the taste of her skin and feel her reactions to my touch, but it's distracting having her so ready. As much as I want to learn the best ways to touch her, to please her, she is ready for release and I don't want to deny that. I want to hear my name on her lips as she comes and feel her body quivering under my fingers.
There is still what remains of the night and all day to learn all her secrets.
My hand slides down her stomach and pauses, gently cupping the slick skin of her center. She bucks her hips up toward my hand and says my name again. I will never tire of that sound. An exploring finger moves through the folds, teasing her one last time before disappearing inside.
She sets the pace, hips grinding into me as I savor the feel of her surrounding my finger. I hold myself above her, watching in fascination as she pleads silently for more. When a second finger enters her she grunts and closes her eyes briefly.
Her leg lifts and pushes into me, the contact drawing out a moan of pleasure from me. I knew I was aroused again, that I wanted to feel her inside me again, but I somehow didn't realize that I was this close to a second orgasm. Her leg stays firmly in place, and I grind into her, deeply satisfied.
"Yeess." Again she draws out the word, her voice now nothing more than a whisper.
I slip a third finger inside her and thrust hard and fast, the pace matching my grinding against her. I lean down to suck a bit of skin from her neck into my mouth, wanting to taste her again. I can feel her heartbeat under my lips.
"Oh god." This time it's me praising the sensation.
Her muscles pulse around my fingers in time with the heartbeat I felt under my lips. She pushes her leg harder into me and I am on the edge again. I want to take her with me and I curl my fingers slightly, searching that secret spot. I've found it and she is moaning my name as I thrust with my entire body both inside and against her.
Her thigh grinds into me again and my body jerks in response. A knowing smirk on her face, she teasingly asks, "Haven't had enough yet?"
I can't think of a response right away and she doesn't seem to be looking for one anyway. Her hand moves up my stomach to cup my breast. She kneads the flesh and lightly teases my nipple with her thumb. She drops a light kiss on the bright red flesh of my neck.
"Does that hurt?" She asks quietly about the bite mark on my neck.
Distracted by the movement of her hand it takes me a minute to recognize that she asked me something. "Not at the moment."
"I'm sorry," she whispers as she kisses the mark again.
"You know the guys are going to give you shit about that, right?" Sara asks with a smirk.
"They will. Especially since they know we left the bar together."
I shiver as her tongue traces the outside of the mark. "But for all they know we only shared a cab."
I pull away from her distracting mouth. "Huh?"
"Why do you think Nick didn't do his gentlemanly thing and offer to see me home?" That playful glint has returned to her eyes.
"Because he was really drunk?" I say, even though I know where this is going now. Her overly drunk behavior earlier. Her very not drunk behavior in my bed.
"Sara Sidle. You set this up didn't you?" I try to speak in the sternest voice I can, but it's hard to seem so serious when I'm so satiated and grinning like a fool.
"Maybe," Sara says with a smile before leaning up for another kiss.
Return to C.S.I. Fiction
Return to Main Page