A/N: Here’s the last part and rest of the prezzie ;-)

And yes, it is M-ish ... of course, although it is kind of ... different...

Enjoy reading, as much as I enjoyed writing it... ;-)

Thanks DoomPrincess for betaing. You are doing a great job.

Part II-2

-- “Have you ever wondered what it would be like if we were more than just friends?”--

.

Her question is lingering in the silence.

Drama requests three seconds of silence to let a moment of surprise sink in. Abby waits three seconds for Gibbs to give an answer. Any answer.

Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three.

Nothing.

Not even a ‘huh?’ or a coughing. He doesn’t even stir.

Nothing.

What ever Gibbs might be feeling or thinking, he doesn’t give away anything. Instead, he slowly lifts his glass and takes an unhurried sip of his bourbon.

“I take this a ‘yes’,” Abby quietly remarks, lifting her glass and having a sip of her bourbon as well.

Gibbs doesn’t swallow the golden liquid immediately. He lets it flow around his tongue before allowing it to slowly trickle down his throat, leaving a burning trail on its way.

They continue to sit in silence, the conclusion Abby has come to not making it any less comfortable than before.

“Have you?” Gibbs calmly asks after sipping at his bourbon again.

“I was the first to ask.” Taken by surprise, Abby tries to avoid an answer.

“Yeah, but I am the boss ... erm ... the captain of this boat,” Gibbs tells her in a serious tone.

Like Gibbs has done before, Abby doesn’t show any physical motion. He doesn’t know anything about drama, but as an agent he knows that no answer at all is more precise than just any answer.

“I take this a ‘yes’,” he emulates Abby’s previous words calmly and takes another sip of his bourbon.

A couple of minutes pass by as if the conversation hadn’t taken place. Their mutual silent confessions haven’t caused the slightest tension or embarrassment. Becoming aware of this, Abby decides to be honest. What was supposed to happen anyway?

Her voice stays even all the time, while she admits her most inner secret.

“I don’t remember when I first started thinking about it, but one day, when you were kissing my cheek, I caught myself wondering what it would be like if you kissed my lips. What it would feel like. Your lips ... on mine.

“Then I began wondering what it would feel like, if your fingers touched my skin, places other than my hands or arms, and in a different way than when your hands sometimes firmly massage my clad shoulders when I’m strained or refuse to take a break at work.

“Then I started dreaming about it at night. The dreams started almost innocently, but pretty quickly they were getting more and more intense. I startled awake, surrounded by darkness and panting heavily. I stared into the dark of the night, but I still could clearly recall the pictures of my dream, which had seemed so real.

“So real. Except for... being real.

“In our dreams we lack a certain awareness of sensation. Your mind just emulates from memory and remembrance and fills the gaps with dull imagination.

“I saw you touching my skin, but it felt like a generic touch, because I don’t know what your calloused fingers would feel like on my breasts. Then you kissed me and I felt something part my lips and stroking my tongue. But it felt strange, because I don’t know how it feels to kiss you like that. And I don’t know what you look like when you are naked. And what you feel like.

“These dreams came back night after night, leaving me extremely aroused -- my body aching and crying for relief.

“It’s so depressing and frustrating to wake up and have nothing left but a dull feeling of something you want so much, but which you know you shouldn’t want. So one night, I gave in to the temptation. I closed my eyes and let the pictures deliberately flood my mind again, letting them cross the point where I always had left them when I woke up, my fingers taking over your part, caressing my tingling skin and stroking most sensitive spots.”

Abby falls silent as she remembers the powerful orgasm which hit her that night.

She sighs heavily, remembering how awful she had felt immediately afterwards. “The next day, I didn’t even dare to look at you. It was just too embarrassing. But I wasn’t able to stop myself from doing it again. And again. And again. And now it is not embarrassing anymore. Not even to tell you today, you know?”

Gibbs is making it easy for her to not be afraid. He hasn’t interrupted her even once. He hasn’t stirred, hasn’t sipped at his bourbon. His hand is still resting lightly on her waist. His breathing however has deepened and his heart is pounding heavily in his chest. He is sure, Abby has to have noticed it.

For Abby, to know what he is thinking would have been worth a thousand bucks. She could shift and turn to look at him, to take away the trembling uncertainty. It would also take away the tingling sensation this moment creates.

And then, all of a sudden, Gibbs’s hand starts moving.

His fingers draw slow, feather light circles on her waist, tickling her sensitive skin through the soft fabric of her dress. Her breath hitches and she tries to get it under control again, which turns out to be a difficult task, as his hand begins to travel up her side, inch by inch, in an agonizingly slow pace.

The tension is hard to bear, as he seems to bring his journey to a halt when his fingers have reached the level of her sweet alluring mounds. Half an eternity later, his hand changes its direction. The tip of his fingers deliciously graze her viscose-clad, bra-less breast.

Abby gasps. A low, drawn moan escapes her as his fingers wander ever so lightly over the dark pink aching peak of her left mound and she arches back against him, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.

Only now does Gibbs start to move. Shifting behind her, his left hand keeps stroking her breast, while his right hand moves into sight, closing over her left hand, in which she is shakily clinging to her glass of whiskey. As he takes the glass from of her hand, she can hear him whisper, his face right beside her.

“Close your eyes, Abs.”

He must have put the glass aside because the next thing Abby knows is his fingers getting entangled in her hair. She can feel his trembling breath a split second before his lips connect with the sensitive skin of her exposed neck. She whimpers, leaning back into his touch, silently begging for him to continue.

And that, he does. Smoothly, his lips roam over the creamy skin of her neck, groping on to her left shoulder, covering it with delicate kisses. Neither of them spends a thought on questioning the appropriateness of what they were doing. It seems to be the only logic consequence of her confession.

Barely noticed by her, he opens the zipper of her dress, just far enough for him to slip his hand inside and back to her rose bud.

Her skin is soft. Softer than he has ever imagined it to be. He continues to kiss and nibble his way back to her neck, eventually reaching a very sensitive spot behind her ear.

Moaning appreciatively, Abby leans back into his exciting caress.

“Don’t stop, please,” she desperately begs for him to continue, when he suddenly stops. She nestles up against him, reaching behind herself with one hand to search for contact.

“Turn around,” he whispers, breathing a tingling kiss right onto her left auricle.

Tilting her head, Abby turns her face towards him, yearning to feel his lips on hers. But Gibbs has other plans. Wrapping his arm around her, he gently tugs at her waist, making her sit up a little. Swiftly, he spins her around, dragging her onto his lap, so that she finally ends up straddling him.

They look at each other and she is surprised to see him look at her so openly -- a loving sparkle in his eyes, ignited by a heart-warming smile that is so different from every smile he has ever given her. Her face is an expression of pure ecstasy. Some dazed part of his brain is telling him, that by the way Abby is sitting on his lap, she has to clearly be aware of the most prominent sign of his arousal.

His gaze starts wandering from her eyes to her lips, down her throat to her cleavage. The straps of her dress are still in place, so her soft bosom is still loosely enveloped by the black material. Her shawl has fallen from her shoulders and is dangling loosely in the crook of her arms.

Curiously, he reaches up, crooking one finger under the black strap of her left shoulder, tugging it down slowly and exposing her left mound to his eyes completely. He lets his fingers run over her pale skin, following its trip with feverish eyes, praying that this isn’t another one of his dreams.

Reluctantly, he turns his attention away from her dark rose bud to stroke some strands of hair out of her face. The tip of his tongue shows up briefly, moistening his dry lips. Then he leans forward to place a soft kiss on her cheek.

Lingering there, he feels her quivering breath on his neck. Picking up on Abby’s earlier train of thought about what it would feel like if he didn’t just kiss her on the cheek, he kisses and nibbles along her jaw line until he reaches her dark lips. Timidly, encouragingly and without being demanding, his tongue gently strokes over her lips, begging for her to grant him access.

When she responds to his request, his fingers immerse themselves in her hair as he pulls her closer; their tongues thoroughly explore each other’s taste without hiding their hunger any longer.

His lips leave hers to continue nipping a path down her neck, across her cleavage towards her exposed breast. Abby whimpers lowly, her head falling to the side to give him better access. She runs her fingers through his short grey hair, there is no need to lead him to where she desperately wants to feel him now. He is going there slowly, making the excitement almost unbearable and each nip more enjoyable.

Grinding her pelvis against his, she arches back in sheer ecstasy as he wraps his tongue around her dark red peak before closing his lips over her. The sensation pushes her over the edge surprisingly and much sooner than she wants it to. Digging her nails into his neck, she moans out her pleasure. Wrapping his arms around her, he holds her tight, feeling wave after wave claiming her body. It’s amazing how she grabs him closer, when at the same time she wants to back away from the incredible sensation his nibbling and suckling creates.

When her muscles start to relax, he wraps her shawl around her shoulders, warming her trembling body. She has difficulties focusing on him as she tries to get her breathing back to normal. When he cups her cheek with his hand, she snuggles against it, closing her eyes, making it easier for her to take deep and even breaths.

“This was...,” she starts when she has gained back her conscious mind, but Gibbs lays his thumb across her lips, silencing her.

“... much more intense than I ever imagined it in any of my fantasies,” he admits, looking at her so openly that she can tell she has been part of his dreams more often than just once or twice.

He leans in, bringing his lips close to her ear and murmurs hoarsely, “And I have been dreaming about it for quite a few years now.” He then seals his confession with a tender kiss near her earlobe.

Abby shifts in his lap, reminding him of his still unrelieved state and making him groan out loudly. Grinning mischievously, Abby begins to snake one hand in between them, but Gibbs manages to stop her just before she reaches his imprisoned arousal.

“Let’s get inside,” he suggests hoarsely, just before Abby is able to protest about him having interrupted her.

He helps her out of his lap, steadying her as her legs are still shaky in the aftermath of the overwhelming climax she has just experienced.

Never letting go of her, he closes the door, keeping her between the wood and himself. Without haste, they revel in another kiss that gets deeper and hungrier as he presses up against her. With an appreciative moan she moves her body against his, taking over the lead and beginning to fumble at his shirt.

She breaks the kiss to lift the shirt over his head, eliciting a moan from deep inside his chest as she runs her cool fingers through his greyish chest-hair. Wallowing in her touch, his curious fingers lift the soft drapery that embosoms her legs. Tucking it round her waist with his left hand, he lets his fingers leisurely roam over the heated skin of her thigh, encouraging her to wrap her leg around him.

The limited height of the boat’s interior doesn’t allow him to lift her up, so he pulls her even closer instead, his fingers gliding underneath the lace of her panties, dipping into a pool of damp heat.

“I want to taste you, Abs,” he murmurs close to her ear, even though there is no need to whisper.

“I want to feel you,” she murmurs back, mourning the loss as he retreats from her yearning center.

He wants to savor this, wants to see, feel, smell, taste and hear her, to make sure every single second of this is not one of his fantasies.

Slowly, he removes the shawl from her shoulders again. It drifts to the floor, joining his shirt. Soon her dress is following.

Stepping out of the pool of clothing, Gibbs guides her across the interior that’s weakly lit by the irradiating full moon light. Making her walk backwards, he keeps her securely in his embrace while kissing her leisurely.

He sits her down on the mattress and kneels down in front of her.

He tells her to “Lean back,” placing an open-mouthed kiss on the heated skin of her upper thigh while he runs his fingers softly over the still clad junction of her legs, making her whimper as she lies back on the bed. He pulls her lace panties down, signposting its path with random kisses. Her shoes follow her panties before he gets his attention back to her legs, working his way upwards now, starting with her cool ankles, taking a break to pay thorough attention to the warm hollow of her knees before nibbling and stroking the heated soft skin of her upper thighs.

When he reaches the source of her heat and kisses her there, Abby inhales deeply, ready to sink into oblivion again. Her hand searches for his, their fingers linking. Gibbs takes care to avoid her swollen bundle of nerves; instead he strokes and kisses her without haste, his thumb drawing soothing circles on her hand.

His plan works, Abby relaxes under his caresses, relishing the attention he pays her and rewarding him with pleasurable sighs. She is taking so much delight in this that she moans out her protest when Gibbs suddenly breaks the contact and cool air replaces his touch.

She listens to the rustling of his clothes as he undresses, her heartbeat speeding up again. Then he joins her on the mattress, settling between her legs and setting her body aflame again the instant he kisses the sweet spot he has avoided all the time. Kissing, caressing and stroking each square inch he can reach, his eyes are finally flush with hers, excitement making their eyes sparkle.

When he finally enters her -- slowly, with their gazes locked -- it’s pure pleasure for both of them...

Afterwards, he would spoon up behind her, pulling the blanket over their satiated bodies and taking her in his embrace, the need to protect her stronger than ever.

“What did take us so long?” Abby wonders aloud.

Yeah, what did take us so long? Gibbs considers her question for a few moments. He had never even tried to show or tell Abby about his true feelings for her. He wasn’t usually, so completely reserved around her.

He sighs heavily.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he says, his voice low.

Feeling his tension and sensing his fears she turns her face towards him. She needs to dispel his fears, lighten his mood, because she won’t allow him to retreat into his shell again.

“You didn’t hurt me.” The smile on her lips is evident in her voice and Gibbs already wants to tell her that this was not what he has meant by hurting her, when he realizes she has understood him and has been playing deliberately with his words.

And it makes him smile. She can sense his smirk against her cheek.

“I didn’t?” he asks, chuckling, and catching her earlobe between his teeth, pinching it playfully and making her squeak.

“No. No, you didn’t,” she giggles and snuggles closer into his secure embrace.

Gibbs buries his face in her hair, whispering softly against her neck.

Tightly embraced, they soon drift off into a relaxed slumber.

FIN