Straight From the Heart
- Jibbs moments, aren't they just lovely?
Author's notes: This is a one-shot written from Jen's point of view. I have rarely written anything in this style before, but I thought I'd give it a shot.
Author's notes2: This may or may not be a series of Jibbs one-shots. I might add other one-shots to this, if that is wanted.
I frequently ask myself whether this is right or not. I know it's irresponsible and dangerous, yet I always tend to forget all the reasons why this relationship shouldn't be happening whenever he's around. All I do know – regardless if he's here or not – is that I'm completely and utterly in love with him.
He enters my office late in the evening, his overcoat put on and ready to leave. I, on the other hand, am not. I tell him I just have to finish up a couple of things and suggest he take a seat on the couch.
He remains standing, but strolls over to the bookshelves. I can see the hint of a smile on his face as he looks at the pictures I keep there. I slowly and silently finish up what I have been doing, occasionally cocking my head his direction. I can't help it. I let my eyes caress the silver hair, the way his neck is bent as he is looking at my pictures, stroking my gaze down his back to find his butt. I admire the view for a short while, until his voice startles me out of my concentration.
"If you spend more time on finishing up your work instead of staring at my ass, the sooner we get out of here," he teases me without as much as casting a glance my direction. I smirk to myself; I'd always wondered how he could know what was going on behind his back. But in this case it was probably just me being predictable.
He had started to pace my office in his impatience by the time I finally turn off my computer. His head shoots up at the sound of my movement. He smiles as I walk over to receive my coat, he's clearly relieved to get us out of here. Another minute more and he'd have been behind me, rubbing my shoulders and murmur in my ear what he wanted to do to me, intending on distracting me from work so he would get me to leave sooner, or make me not leave at all. He loves to tease me like this, and I also suspect he likes to see the look of exasperation mixed with desire on my face when he does that.
As I try not to think about what could have happened in here if I hadn't decided to call it a night, he sneaks up behind me, making me jump slightly as he slips his arms around my waist. I feel his breath on my ear as he mumbles he's missed me today. His lips gently graze the skin in my neck, forcing me to bite down on my lip to not moan out loud. I am not intending on doing this in here, of all places.
I swiftly turn around in his arms, staring mischievously up at him. I look into his eyes, and just as I see he's about to say something, I capture his lips with mine. It's an effective way to shut him up. And allows me some time to think.
Normally I don't let myself get carried away by his charm on work hours, it doesn't feel right. I'm still not clear on my professional thoughts of this relationship; I am his boss after all. But later in the evenings, when we arrive at my house, we are like any normal couple. I surrender myself to him and I can't deny my love for him any less than he manages to deny his for me. And I don't feel any of the professional pressure.
Through the entire ranting in my head, I'm well aware of the way his tongue is stroking mine. Before I can get too much involved with him, I gently pull away; tell him I've missed him too, and that I think we should be heading home. I can see that look in his eyes, the look of hunger and desire that makes my knees buckle. His arms are still wrapped securely around my back, making sure I manage to stay upright. He places another searing kiss onto my lips.
Our clothes lay scattered on the floor, leaving a trail leading from the bedroom door to the bed.
I gently place my hand on his bare chest; under my fingertips his skin is still damp with sweat. I can't help but to smile as I glance up at his sleeping features, my skin is still tingling where he has touched, kissed and licked my body. The room that just moments ago was filled with the sounds of the bed rocking, mattress squeaking and mine and Jethro's ecstatic moans mingling together, is now taken over by silence. Except for his deep breathing and an occasional light snoring.
His hair is messy, and it feels good to know that I'm responsible for it, I wipe away a trace of my lipstick that is smeared at the corner of his lips, carefully to not wake him, and I can't resist the urge to let my fingertips caress the side of his face. His forehead is also sweaty and I smile and wonder how hard I had worked him this night. I must have really worn him out.
I cuddle closer to his warm and comfortable body, lying next to him is my favorite place in the world. I bury my nose in his chest, and inhale. He smells of salt and sawdust, with a faint hint of bourbon that must have gotten on his skin from my mouth as I was ravishing him with kisses. There is also a scent that I recognize as my perfume. I smile into his chest, well aware of the fact that I was good at leaving my marks on him, sometimes just my scent, but I was an expert at leaving scratch marks from my fingernails all over his back. The morning after I use to leave soft kisses on the scratches, as compensation.
And, of course, I didn't go unmarked by him. I wince as the old bruises on my hips are being replaced by fresh ones, from when his hands grips around my hips as he moves with me. I'm just glad he decides to put the bruises where I can easily hide them from the public.
It is not just my body that wears his marks, my house is also scattered with things indicating there's a man in my life. He keeps his toiletries in my bathroom, as he ever so often spends the night, his clothes have managed to sneak into my closet and then there is his scent that sips into every corner of my house, a sensual mixture of sawdust, bourbon and coffee that makes me not able to stop thinking about him whenever there's a night when he's not here with me.
He pulls me closer to his body in his sleep, his hand slips down my stomach. I try to suppress a moan, but I can't help but to smile as I think that even while asleep he can tease me.
I leave the warmness of my bed, pulling one of the sheets with me and wrap it around my naked body, wincing slightly as I rise on shaky legs. I glance back at him, still fast asleep among the tangled mess of sheets; his hand grasps the sheets feebly, as if wondering where my warm body went.
I smile is tugging at the corner of my lips as I walk to the window, the world outside is dark and damp from today's rain. By a streetlight I can see it's still drizzling.
As for my thoughts on our relationship, I don't think I'll ever be able to let him go. I can't see myself living without him.
I hear the mattress squeak, footsteps on the carpet, then hands slips around my waist and Jethro's voice, rough from sleep, whispers in my ear how cold the bed feels when I am not there. He puts a smile on my face.
I unwrap the sheet around me, inviting him to come closer to me. I feel his chest press against my back as he rewraps the sheet around or bodies. I lean into his embrace, enjoying the skin against skin contact. He tilts his head down and drops a kiss on my shoulder, and continues to trace his lips up my neck, burying his nose in my hair. He inhales deeply, taking in my scent.
I shut my eyes, my breath hitches as he finds the special spot in my neck. I feel his lips curl into a smile, well aware what this does to me. He whispers my name against my skin as I relax, surrendering myself to his mercy.
I shift position, turn around in his arms and before he can say anything, I cover his lips with mine. I feel his hands flutter over my body, gripping at my hips, roaming up my back, pulling me flat against him. The kisses I deliver are heated; I can feel his desire burning on his lips as his tongue dances with mine.
Though my mind is occupied with thoughts of him and what he'd doing to me, I manage to slip another thought into my mind.
I'll be a serious fool if I give up on us. And if anyone would have a problem with our relationship – thinking it's unprofessional of me,
Screw 'em, I think as he pushes me back down onto the bed, and then I lose the ability to think at all.
Please give me your thoughts on this one, I'd love some opinions!