Adventures Of A Tarp

ADVENTURES OF A TARP

Spoilers: None; fourth-season fic.
Rating: NC-17.... or X really, I guess.
Genre: C/G fluffy smut


*****

Delicate knuckles rapped softly on the doorframe to his office, and a strawberry-blond head poked inside. "Gil?"

His face was hidden, buried in some thick textbook... of what kind, she couldn't be sure. She furrowed her brow and silently watched him for a moment, adoring the creases in his forehead and lines around his slightly squinted eyes as he read... seemingly deeply enthralled with whatever was on the page. She tried again. "Gil."

After again receiving no response, she dared to venture closer, slowly making her way around to his side of the desk, peering over his shoulder. When she placed her hands gently on his shoulders, gliding them down his arms, he finally noticed her presence... startled so forcefully he dropped his textbook on the desk. "Cath!"

A giggle escaped her thick lips as she took a step back, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Careful, Gil. At your age, you're liable to have a heart attack."

He glared facetiously at his cherished strawberry-blond, unable to combat dissolving into a smile. He so adored that dazzling smile of hers... the one she was so freely sending him now. "What can I do for you?"

She shrugged her slender shoulders and stepped up to him once more, rubbing his upper arms as she glanced over his head at the textbook. She nodded toward it. "What're you reading?"

"A textbook on autopsies."

"You?" The surprise in her voice was evident. "Gil Grissom, master of every trade and science, has to READ about performing an autopsy?"

Another facetious glare was sent her way from over his shoulder, but again, at seeing that fabulous smile, he melted back into a smile of his own. "It really is fascinating, Catherine."

She sighed and patted his shoulder, gliding her fingertips across his back as she moved around to the opposite side of his desk, plopping down in one of his office chairs. "I thought you already knew all about them. I mean, you're around Doc Robbins enough."

"Yes, but I've always been there gathering information about cause of death, and gathering evidence from the boI'vI've never really taken the time to pay attention to how he performs the autopsy."

"Well, still... I highly doubt you could learn all of what Doc Robbins knows by reading that book." To emphasize, she flicked the corner of the textbook with her finger.

He stared at her with an odd look on his face... half-amused, half-surprised... and his eyes danced mischievously. "Are you challenging me, dear Catherine?"

Her devilish grin spread ear-to-ear, and she pressed her palms to the cool, plastic arms of her chair, pushing herself to a standing position. "Of course not, dear Gil..." she sd, ad, and began slowly sauntering around the room.

He watched her avidly, his eyes roaming her curves... drinking in her presence. "I do believe you're being sarcastic," he murmured, the corners of his lips curving into a smile as he watched her slowly turn to face him.

"I do believe you're right."

He made a sweeping gesture toward the glass coffee table sitting opposite the couch, his own smile turning devilish. "Then, by all means... be my cadaver."

Catherine quirked an eyebrow, smirking. "Excuse me?"

"Be my cadaver. Allow me to demonstrate how much I know."

She rolled her eyes amicably, her smirk widening. "Fine," she indulged him.

He grinned excitedly and grabbed for something under his desk, holding it up for Catherine to see... thus receiving another quirk of the eyebrow. "A tarp?" she questioned, and grinned. "Just how kinky is this gonna"
"

He rolled his eyes at her behavior. "Cath, that's a glass coffee table. I don't want to get any scuffs or marks on it."

"Aaahhh..." She reached out to pat his cheek, speaking in a soppy voice. "It's so cute how anal-retentive you are!"

He made a face and swatted at her hand, then proceeded to whip the tarp and glide it gently over the coffee table. "There," he sighed when he was finished, gesturing toward it. "Lie down."

"Oooh, so aggressive, Gil!" she teased, then complied, stretching out across the knee-high table. "Promise to be gentle?"

Now it was his turn to quirk an eyebrow as he knelt beside the table, the textbook in one hand. "I figured you'd be the type to like it rough." After exchanging a devilish grin with his favorite sparring partner, he reached out to touch the curve of her hair as it laid fanned out over the edge of the table. "Comfy?" he asked of her.

"I'm a cadaver, Gil, what does it matter? Would you ask your cadavers if they were comfy?" She paused briefly, rolling her eyes. "Wait, look who I'm asking," she sighed, gesturing to hi"The"The man that still checks the water temperature when washing down a body."

He smirked and set the book down. "Cadavers are quiet, too. Try to sink into character."

She grinned up at him momentarily, then obliged, silently watching him as he checked the textbook for reference. "Okay," he sighed, looking back up eet eet her eyes. "So what I already know from watching Doc Robbins is where to make the incisions. Here..." He lightly poked his index finger into her sternum, then glided his fingertip to the upward diagonal, until it was resting over her heart. He then repeated the motion on the other side. "Here..."

Catherine sucked in a deep breath through her nose as her eyes slipped shut, her heart thumping wildly at the gentle caress of his fingertip. He glanced to her sharply at hearing her sudden intake of breath, his brow furrowing. "You okay?"

She nodded emphatically, her eyes still shut tight as she barely squeaked out an, "Mm-hmm!" amazing herself at how aroused she was already.

Grissom just eyed her warily. "Okay..." He shook his head at her behavior, then continued. "And the final incision is made here." Again, he started at her breastbone and glided his fingertip slowly down the center of her body, ending at the waistband of her pants.

Catherine shivered involuntarily, the feel of his finger gliding down her body causing every nerve ending to spring to life. "Gil..." she whispered, her eyes snapping shut once more, head lolling back.

His head snapped upward to look at her again. "Cath?" He then watched as she arched her back and slowly brought herself to a sitting position, her eyes burning into his.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she whispered shakily, heart still pounding as she realized his hand was still resting against her stomach... and that his pinky finger had now dipped below her waistband.

"Why not?" he chuckled lightly, utterly puzzled by her behavior. "It's just a little demonstration!" He shifted slightly, his hand gliding across her stomach in the process... a few more fingers disappearing beneath the waistband. He never tore his eyes from hers as his brow furrowed in question. "What's gotten into you?"

She raised an eyebrow, allowing her eyes to the drift to the hand that was half inside her pants, before she met his eyes once more. "I just..." She shook her head. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"Cath, nothing's gonna go wrong, you know that," he attempted to assure her. "It's not like I'm gonna use a scalpel on you or anything. Besides," he shrugged, his sparkling blue hues dancing in the dim office lighting, "You started it! With your teasing about my choice of reading material."

"I know," she whispered, "And I really wish I hadn't."

"Why? Cath, what's the problem?" He unconsciously stroked her stomach and lower abdomen, realization finally striking him as he watched her eyes once more slip shut.

He cocked an eyebrow, suddenly feeling a surge of power. The first surge of power he'd ever felt over this beautiful creature. It was normally her that controlled him. "Are you afraid of perhaps..." He dipped his fingers further beneath her waistband, watching her reaction through lowered la, ", "Acting impetuously?"

She nodded, slowly licking her lips. "Mm-hmm..." She opened her lust-saturated eyes to meet his ever-darkening ones.

"Afraid of doing something that could jeopardize our personal relationship?" He bravely dipped his hand all the way into her pants, stroking her core... finding that not only was she not wearing underwear, but that she was also highly aroused. He let out a sharp expell of breath, feeling his pants growing tighter. "Cath..."

Her head snapped back at the feel of his fingers against her most intimate region, and she fell back against the table. "God, Gil..."

"Oh, Cath..." he whispered, his eyes diving deep into hers as he stroked her, his thumb finding the tiny bundle of nerves at her center while his fingers continued to move in a slow circle around her core.

When she felt two long, nimble fingers enter her, she gasped loudly, her head lolling back over the edge of the table, tipping upside down. "Gil..." she murmured, writhing against his fingers, her hips rolling toward him.

A sudden knock at the door jolted them back to reality, and they quickly dove behind the coffee table, Catherine sitting cross-legged on the floor while Gil knelt beside her, his hand never leaving her pants. After they both made sure they were carefully shielded by the thick tarp, Gil called out... "Who is it?"

"Grissom, it's Nick. You got a sec?"

Grissom eyed Catherine in his peripheral vision, catching her slightly shaking her head. His eyes glinted mischievously, and he turned toward the door. "Sure! Come on in!"

With that, the tall, dark-haired Texan entered the office, nodding a greeting at his supervisor before noticing the strawberry-blond's presence in the room. He cocked his head slightly, smiling at her. "Hey, Cath. What are you doing here?"

"Uh, we were just, umm..."

"Experimenting," Grissom finished, sending Nick a smile while he stroked Catherine under the table, rotating his fingers inside her.

She gasped, then attempted to mask it with a cough as she felt her cheeks flush bright pink. "Yes, experimenting," she quickly chimed in... barely able to get out the simple sentence.

Nick eyed the two senior CSI's warily, still standing in the doorway. "Is this a bad time to come?"

"Bad time to come?" Grissom repeated, tossing an almost smug glance at Catherine. "I think it's a perfect time to come, don't you, Cath?" And he curled his fingers inside her, successfully hitting her G-spot.

Her jaw dropped in a silent groan, and she quickly covered her mouth. "Come? Yes... fabulous time to come," she choked out, and upon feeling his fingers curl inside her once more, she laid her forehead on the table.

"Cath, are you okay?" Nick drawled, concern etched on his chiseled features.

"I'm fine," she squeaked out, her voice muffled from the tarp over the table. When his fingers moved in a circle inside her, she pounded her fist on the surface of the table, biting down hard on her lip.

Grissom smirked at her before glancing back up to Nick. "She's just been having some um... cramps."

"Bad, bad cramps," Catherine moaned against the table, reaching back to swat at Gil... wanting him to cut it out, and at the same time, never stop what he was doing.

"What did you need, Nick?"

"I came to ask a question about the 406 you handed me and Sara, and--" Nick continued to eye the pair warily, catching Grissom's almost devilish grin after Catherine let out a muffled whimper. "Do you, uhh... want some aspirin or something, Cath?"

"No," she whispered shakily.

"She's just gonna ride it out, Nicky," Grissom informed him, still looking highly smug. He began to pump his fingers in and out, and this motion was what caused Catherine's head to snap back up.

"Yes, ride it out..." she gasped. She clamped her lips together, attempting a smile. "Thanks for the concern, Nicky, but I'll be fine." Her voice seemed to falter on 'fine'... and she laid her head back down on the table sideways, sending Grissom a glare.

Nick furrowed his brow, still highly confused as to what was really going on. "Aaaalright..."

"So what was your question, Nick?\issoissom asked, and turned to glance at Catherine as she let out another strangled whimper, her forehead now pressed to the table.

"Uhhh... nevermind," he drawled, backing out the door with his hand on the knob. He nodded toward Grissom as he began to shut the door, calling out, "I'll just stop by a little later."

As soon as the door slammed shut, Catherine lunged for Grissom while he continually curled his fingers inside her. She bunched his shirt up in her fists and roughly shoved him onto the table. "No more games, Gil," she growled, and pressed her lips to his.

His tongue immediately dove past their lips, tasting what had been forbidden for 19 years. She moaned, the sound lost inside their passionate kiss, and reached her hands up to hold his head while he gently turned, pinning her beneath him. He broke the kiss only briefly, giving her a smouldering look before crashing his lips to hers once more, his free hand feverishly working the button and zipper on her black pants.

The struggle to get her pants off was immense, especially since he refused to remove his fingers from her center to do so... but after they finally had been removed and tossed across the room, she eagerly spread her legs to him... her heart jumping into her throat as she watched his head dip quickly between her legs... a gasp following when she felt his tongue moving against her, his fingers still pumping inside her.

She moaned and chanted his name while she bucked against him, having already been worked to a fever pitch by his torturous ministrations moments before. When he flicked his tongue against her center several times in succession, she cried out his name and crashed over the edge, her body tensing and shaking against his mouth... her hips rising off the table.

She whispered his as as she came down from the precipice, her body slowly sinking back against the table while his head rose up... a smile plastered across his devastatingly handsome face. She wasted no time as she sat up, pulling his lips to hers, able to taste herself on him as she reached for his waist... pulling the shirt tails of his button-down oxford shirt out of his tight blue jeans, her fingers frantically working their way down his buttons next.

Once undone, she roughly shoved the annoying garment off his body, giving him a look when he chuckled at her frenzied behavior. After tossing the shirt across the room, her lips zeroed in on his chest like a target missile, and she began pressing passionate kisses to his heated flesh while her fingers continued their task of unlatching his belt buckle and removing his pants.

He chuckled once more at her behavior, highly aroused by her frantic need for him... and helped her divest him of the remainder of his clothing, standing up briefly to drop his pants and boxers to his ankles.

Catherine once again wasted no time as she reached out and wrapped her fingers around his shaft one by one, stroking himwly.wly. He groaned deep in his throat and tipped his head back... crying out when he felt her mouth take every inch of him inside. "Oh God, Cath!"

She moaned deeply against him, the vibration nearly sending him over the edge. Just before he was about to explode, he placed a hand on each side of her head, winding them through her sleek, straight hair as he pulled her away from him. "Cath, I need to be inside you," he whispered, gently pushing her back against the table as he crawled over her.

She parted her legs and scooted to the edge of the table as he positioned himself over her, then gasped as he grasped her hips and pulled her toward him, sliding slowly, inch-by-inch, inside of her. When he was completely sheathed deep within her core, he began to move... slowly, at first, trying to savor the moment. "Cath..."

She moaned in response and reached out to grasp his hips, guiding his movements. "God, you feel so good, Gil... so good."

He groaned at the sound of lust and love dripping from her tone, and began to drive into her faster... harder... with long strokes. She grasped at him, pulling him against her while his pace continued to quicken, until he was pounding into her at a furious tempo... both of them chanting each other's names as they came closer and closer to reaching oblivion.

When they reached their climax, they reached it together, their bodies tensing and shuddering against each other, before they collapsed against the coffee table... chests heaving... battling for oxygen. They laid twined together for moments on end, listening to each other's erratic breathing. After several moments of comfortable silence, Gil finally spoke, pulling away to smirk at his beauty. "Good thing we put the tarp down."

~FINIS~

~*~This fic brought to you by a member of "Kiss My G/C Shipper Ass" Productions' Smut Royalty~*~