The Miami Sofitel (5/?)
Title: The Miami Sofitel (5/?)
Author: SomewhereApart
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Characters: Eric/Calleigh
Rating: NC17. This chapter, anyway...
Summary: After the events of "The Deluca Motel," Calliegh gives Eric an upgrade.
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four
If Eric could have formed a thought, he was certain it would have had something to do with gratitude and bliss and promising God he’d be a much better man from now on as a thank you for what he found himself in the middle of. He was in bed with Calleigh Duquesne, kick-ass-and-take-names Calleigh Duquesne, and she was doing this thing with her tongue against the hollow of his throat that made his world spin a little. Her scent was all around him, flowers and sex, and the sounds she was making were just about the hottest thing he’d ever heard. Delicate little moans and gasps that escaped in puffs of breath to punctuate the rocking rhythm of their hips.
She was hot as summer, slick and slippery as he pumped in and out of her at a pace that was somewhere above slow but still below driving. He wasn’t sure quite how they’d gotten here, but knew it had started in the dark, with tentative kisses and experimental touches. Then his palm had covered her breast, and it had all just rolled on from there, gaining speed like an avalanche until they found themselves naked and drowning in deep, wet kisses as he pushed into her and swallowed her eager moan.
Now her hands were flitting restlessly over his back, her hips bucking up to meet each thrust of his, and God, every time they met, she moaned or gasped or grunted, and he had to half block it out in order to keep from coming too soon. She was nipping his shoulder now, nails scoring oh-so-gently down his back as she hissed a “yes” and an “oh, God, Eric,” and a “faster - I’m so close!”
So he pushed faster, drove harder, let himself fall into her and take in every sound and smell, crushing his mouth to hers so he could taste her.
And then the shrill blaring of the alarm clock ripped into his consciousness, and he jerked awake with a start. The bed was empty, and he could see the faintest hint of light through the crack between the drawn shades. Cursing his bad luck - and his raging hard-on - he slapped his palm onto the alarm clock. Six forty-five. Great. Just fucking great. That would give him plenty of time to jack off in the shower, assuming she didn’t walk in just when he was halfway to the bathroom and create an awkward morning for both of them.
With a stretch and a frustrated grunt, he sat up, flipping on the bedside light and noticing for the first time that she’d left a note on her pillow. How cliché, he thought bitterly, as he lifted it and scanned the words.
“There’s a gym upstairs. Back around 7. - Cal”
Fifteen minutes. He could do fifteen minutes. With a single-minded focus, he headed for the bathroom, turning the water on hot and stripping down. He stepped under the spray, and felt only slightly guilty when he used a dollop of her conditioner to lube up the process as he turned toward the shower wall, pressing one arm to the tile and resting his head against it. He closed his eyes, gripped himself, and tried to bring back his dream - or any of the thousands before.
Dream Calleigh had lost some of her luster, her soft pants and groans not enough to pitch him over now that he was good and awake, so he resorted to his fallback. Not that there was anything wrong with the fallback, no sir… Calleigh kissing him hard and hot in the ballistics lab, moaning reluctantly against his mouth, gasping when he sucks fierce kisses down her neck.
“Eric, not here,” she breathes, as one of her legs rises to tangle around his and help her grind against him. “We could get caught.”
“We won’t,” he insists, hands already at her waist, making quick work of her button and zipper and shoving the waist of her pants down before lifting her to sit on the test-firing counter.
Her mouth is against his again, needy, lusty, oh-so-enthusiastic, and he hears rather than sees the way she reaches behind herself and blindly pops the magazine from the gun she’s been testing, setting the safety before plopping it down beside her again and reaching for his pants. If anything, it just makes him harder for her.
Her shirt comes off and he cups her breasts, teasing the nipples and watching her suck in a breath and moan, her head tipping back so he can cover her neck with kisses again. She fumbles with his belt, distracted by his hands, murmuring how good it feels, how much she wants him, and then he’s free and tugging her right to the edge so he can push into her and begin a quick and steady pace.
She grunts at the invasion, but it turns into a heady moan, and soon she’s burying her face against his neck, and scraping her nails against the cotton of his shirt, babbling against his skin for him to go harder, faster, deeper, and oh god, oh yes, just like that and, oh!
Eric came with a groan, hand clenching into a fist against the shower wall, breath coming quick and heavy. The fallback never failed. After a moment, his breathing steadied again, and he ran his palm under the spray, rinsing off conditioner and come, swiping his hand over the wall to catch what he spent there.
Relaxed again, if not completely satisfied, he made quick work of the rest of his shower, emerging five minutes later with a towel slung around his hips. Calleigh had just walked into the bedroom, and the way she stopped and gaped just slightly would have pleased the hell out of him if he hadn’t been so distracted by her short shorts and sweat-slicked skin.
She recovered quickly, and he tried not to let his thoughts stray to other ways he could get her that flushed and sweaty. “Morning,” she greeted with a smile. “You look refreshed.”
“Yeah, fresh as a daisy,” he smirked, one hand still gripping where his towel was fastened at his hips.
“I think I’m going to follow your lead. I look… less than fresh.”
“Nah, you look good.” Damn good, to be honest. Almost edible.
She scoffed, rolled her eyes, and turned to open the closet, treating Eric to the back view. He’d known she had a great ass, but those shorts clung just right, and… Okay, down boy. There’s no way to hide a stiffy in a towel, so this thought train is gonna have to be derailed. “Yeah, I look so attractive. And I’m sure eau de elliptical is really the scent to make the guys go wild.”
“You’d be surprised,” he told her, settling onto the edge of the bed as she pulled out slacks and a blouse, glancing at him almost shyly before bending over - thank God - and retrieving underwear from the bag she’d tucked in the bottom of the closet.
“You find stinky to be sexy?” she teased as she stood back up, whatever awkwardness she’d felt a moment before successfully pushed aside.
“Not stinky, but there is something about a hot and sweaty woman that is kind of attractive.”
She just paused on her way to the bathroom and quirked a brow at him.
“Reminds me of sex,” he filled in with a wink, watching her blush and shift her pile of clothes to cover her just a little bit more. Smirking at her again, he nodded toward the bathroom. “Go freshen up, then. Prove that you’re sexier when you’re all fresh and clean. Plus, it’ll give me a chance to take care of this whole no-clothes thing I’ve got going on.”
With a chuckle she headed for the bathroom again, asking as she went, “What if I like that no-clothes thing you’ve got going on.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmhmm.” She turned to him in the doorway, threw him a wink. “Reminds me of sex.”
The door closed behind her with a soft click and Eric flopped back on the bed, laughing quietly to himself. Oh, he liked this new, flirty Calleigh. He liked her a lot.
Author: SomewhereApart
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Characters: Eric/Calleigh
Rating: NC17. This chapter, anyway...
Summary: After the events of "The Deluca Motel," Calliegh gives Eric an upgrade.
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four
If Eric could have formed a thought, he was certain it would have had something to do with gratitude and bliss and promising God he’d be a much better man from now on as a thank you for what he found himself in the middle of. He was in bed with Calleigh Duquesne, kick-ass-and-take-names Calleigh Duquesne, and she was doing this thing with her tongue against the hollow of his throat that made his world spin a little. Her scent was all around him, flowers and sex, and the sounds she was making were just about the hottest thing he’d ever heard. Delicate little moans and gasps that escaped in puffs of breath to punctuate the rocking rhythm of their hips.
She was hot as summer, slick and slippery as he pumped in and out of her at a pace that was somewhere above slow but still below driving. He wasn’t sure quite how they’d gotten here, but knew it had started in the dark, with tentative kisses and experimental touches. Then his palm had covered her breast, and it had all just rolled on from there, gaining speed like an avalanche until they found themselves naked and drowning in deep, wet kisses as he pushed into her and swallowed her eager moan.
Now her hands were flitting restlessly over his back, her hips bucking up to meet each thrust of his, and God, every time they met, she moaned or gasped or grunted, and he had to half block it out in order to keep from coming too soon. She was nipping his shoulder now, nails scoring oh-so-gently down his back as she hissed a “yes” and an “oh, God, Eric,” and a “faster - I’m so close!”
So he pushed faster, drove harder, let himself fall into her and take in every sound and smell, crushing his mouth to hers so he could taste her.
And then the shrill blaring of the alarm clock ripped into his consciousness, and he jerked awake with a start. The bed was empty, and he could see the faintest hint of light through the crack between the drawn shades. Cursing his bad luck - and his raging hard-on - he slapped his palm onto the alarm clock. Six forty-five. Great. Just fucking great. That would give him plenty of time to jack off in the shower, assuming she didn’t walk in just when he was halfway to the bathroom and create an awkward morning for both of them.
With a stretch and a frustrated grunt, he sat up, flipping on the bedside light and noticing for the first time that she’d left a note on her pillow. How cliché, he thought bitterly, as he lifted it and scanned the words.
“There’s a gym upstairs. Back around 7. - Cal”
Fifteen minutes. He could do fifteen minutes. With a single-minded focus, he headed for the bathroom, turning the water on hot and stripping down. He stepped under the spray, and felt only slightly guilty when he used a dollop of her conditioner to lube up the process as he turned toward the shower wall, pressing one arm to the tile and resting his head against it. He closed his eyes, gripped himself, and tried to bring back his dream - or any of the thousands before.
Dream Calleigh had lost some of her luster, her soft pants and groans not enough to pitch him over now that he was good and awake, so he resorted to his fallback. Not that there was anything wrong with the fallback, no sir… Calleigh kissing him hard and hot in the ballistics lab, moaning reluctantly against his mouth, gasping when he sucks fierce kisses down her neck.
“Eric, not here,” she breathes, as one of her legs rises to tangle around his and help her grind against him. “We could get caught.”
“We won’t,” he insists, hands already at her waist, making quick work of her button and zipper and shoving the waist of her pants down before lifting her to sit on the test-firing counter.
Her mouth is against his again, needy, lusty, oh-so-enthusiastic, and he hears rather than sees the way she reaches behind herself and blindly pops the magazine from the gun she’s been testing, setting the safety before plopping it down beside her again and reaching for his pants. If anything, it just makes him harder for her.
Her shirt comes off and he cups her breasts, teasing the nipples and watching her suck in a breath and moan, her head tipping back so he can cover her neck with kisses again. She fumbles with his belt, distracted by his hands, murmuring how good it feels, how much she wants him, and then he’s free and tugging her right to the edge so he can push into her and begin a quick and steady pace.
She grunts at the invasion, but it turns into a heady moan, and soon she’s burying her face against his neck, and scraping her nails against the cotton of his shirt, babbling against his skin for him to go harder, faster, deeper, and oh god, oh yes, just like that and, oh!
Eric came with a groan, hand clenching into a fist against the shower wall, breath coming quick and heavy. The fallback never failed. After a moment, his breathing steadied again, and he ran his palm under the spray, rinsing off conditioner and come, swiping his hand over the wall to catch what he spent there.
Relaxed again, if not completely satisfied, he made quick work of the rest of his shower, emerging five minutes later with a towel slung around his hips. Calleigh had just walked into the bedroom, and the way she stopped and gaped just slightly would have pleased the hell out of him if he hadn’t been so distracted by her short shorts and sweat-slicked skin.
She recovered quickly, and he tried not to let his thoughts stray to other ways he could get her that flushed and sweaty. “Morning,” she greeted with a smile. “You look refreshed.”
“Yeah, fresh as a daisy,” he smirked, one hand still gripping where his towel was fastened at his hips.
“I think I’m going to follow your lead. I look… less than fresh.”
“Nah, you look good.” Damn good, to be honest. Almost edible.
She scoffed, rolled her eyes, and turned to open the closet, treating Eric to the back view. He’d known she had a great ass, but those shorts clung just right, and… Okay, down boy. There’s no way to hide a stiffy in a towel, so this thought train is gonna have to be derailed. “Yeah, I look so attractive. And I’m sure eau de elliptical is really the scent to make the guys go wild.”
“You’d be surprised,” he told her, settling onto the edge of the bed as she pulled out slacks and a blouse, glancing at him almost shyly before bending over - thank God - and retrieving underwear from the bag she’d tucked in the bottom of the closet.
“You find stinky to be sexy?” she teased as she stood back up, whatever awkwardness she’d felt a moment before successfully pushed aside.
“Not stinky, but there is something about a hot and sweaty woman that is kind of attractive.”
She just paused on her way to the bathroom and quirked a brow at him.
“Reminds me of sex,” he filled in with a wink, watching her blush and shift her pile of clothes to cover her just a little bit more. Smirking at her again, he nodded toward the bathroom. “Go freshen up, then. Prove that you’re sexier when you’re all fresh and clean. Plus, it’ll give me a chance to take care of this whole no-clothes thing I’ve got going on.”
With a chuckle she headed for the bathroom again, asking as she went, “What if I like that no-clothes thing you’ve got going on.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmhmm.” She turned to him in the doorway, threw him a wink. “Reminds me of sex.”
The door closed behind her with a soft click and Eric flopped back on the bed, laughing quietly to himself. Oh, he liked this new, flirty Calleigh. He liked her a lot.