Chapter 5
The first time Jethro had pulled up to Emerald’s home it had taken him by surprise. It wasn’t really that he knew what he expected, perhaps something classic and stately, more in line with her wealthy upper class roots. All he knew was that the custom, two-story, Amish built log home sitting squarely in the center of a three acre wooded lot outside of D.C., surprisingly nearby to Gibbs’ own home, was not at all what he pictured. It was elegantly simple with a two-car garage and a wrap-around porch, a large river stone fireplace chimney climbing up the front of the house to the left of the heavy oak front door.
Inside was widely spacious, yet warm and inviting with a hunting lodge feel. The open floor plan of the living area was far different than Jethro’s. During the daytime, upon entering the home, you were immediately taken by the bright airy feel lent by the large windows along the left and back of the house as well as the French doors opening off to the wrap-around porch. The living room area was well appointed with a seating arrangement of an overstuffed richly brown suede sofa and broad comfortable armchairs to either side of it, all surrounding a sturdy built oak coffee table and facing the river stone fireplace with a large flatscreen television over the mantle. It was the only sign of technology in the entire main living area, aside from the stainless steel kitchen appliances.
In the front corner of the open air space with the two-story beam ceiling sat a grand piano, and in the rear corner was the dining area furnished by a ten-chair walnut dining table with red oak inlaid designs. The remaining of the rear of this living area was filled with a gourmet kitchen separated from the rest of the space by a bar island wrapped around with stools to seat six.
It was in this part of Emerald’s home that Jethro and Jack spent most of their time when visiting with her. Jack liked to chat for a while after eating, then take up residence on the comfortable sofa and take advantage of the flatscreen with satellite channels, a luxury not afforded him at his son’s home. When he did this, Jethro and Em would grab a couple of beers out of the fridge and retreat to the pair of cedar Adirondack chairs in the small clearing off the back porch behind a grouping of pine trees where they could sit back, relax, talk about their days, and stare up at the stars in complete privacy.
Things had been slow for Em as she had been off full duty due to her foot for the past couple of weeks, unable to go out in the field with the rest of her team. She was getting restless stuck in her office only teleconferencing with them as they investigated three crimes already during her time of restriction. It was never that busy, but she figured it would be just her luck that everything would get crazy with her basically out of commission.
For Jethro, life had been the exact opposite, making him relish in these evenings with Emerald all the more. Not only was his team carrying on the usual caseload, but the manhunt for Paloma Reynosa was still feverishly underway with no luck, and his frustration was growing with each passing day. It did not help that he still had no communication from Mike Franks and feared the worst for his friend despite Em’s efforts to encourage him to think positively. From everything he had told her about Mike, she believed he would have found a way to survive. It was easy for her to say, she hadn’t seen the surveillance footage of the shooting.
“So, how did the doctor’s appointment go today?” he asked after taking a sip of beer.
She swallowed her drink to answer. “Fine. She took the stitches right out and said it looked like everything healed great. She even says I probably won’t have a very bad scar there, not that I’m too worried about a scar on my foot. Who really looks at feet?”
Jethro laughed. “I might if I want to kiss your toes.”
Em giggled at him and took another swig of beer. “Anyway, she says I can go back to wearing regular shoes again.”
He looked down at the flip-flops she was wearing tonight. “And those pass for shoes? Wasn’t wearing those poor excuses for footwear what got you into trouble in the first place?”
She flat out laughed at that. “No. Actually, I believe it was you arguing with your father over beer that caused the whole problem. At least that’s the story Jack tells me, and I believe him.”
“You believe him over me?” he asked in a playfully incredulous tone.
“In this matter? Yes.”
He said nothing more on the subject. She was right, and he knew it. He accepted it. Instead, he reached his hand out, palm up, smiling when she placed hers in his, and wrapping his fingers around, giving her a gentle squeeze before settling to simply holding it there between their two chairs.
They sat there in comfortable silence for a while, something they had quickly found they had no difficulty doing. It seemed the two of them were intuitively aware of each other, capable of small talk, yet not feeling the need to fill silences with chatter just for the sake of chatter.
Gibbs took in a deep breath, closing his eyes, letting the fresh pine scent of the surrounding trees fill his senses. He loved it out here. He could get used to this. This was what he wanted; a beautiful woman who seemed to understand him, a cabin in the woods to escape from the hectic pace of the city, but still be close to the job he loved dearly; however, something was eating away at him over the past few days.
She knew there was something he wanted to talk about, need to talk about with her. She could feel it in him. Emerald knew better than to prod Jethro, however. They were too much alike in that respect. She probably wouldn’t know about the three ex-wives yet if it hadn’t been for an off-handed comment on Jack’s part. Still, she felt she needed to ask, give him the opportunity to open up.
Em stroked the inside of his hand with her thumb. “Are you all right, Jethro? You seem unusually quiet tonight.”
He tensed at her inquiry, and she felt it. How do you tell her what’s bothering you without sounding like the girl in this relationship? You’re being ridiculous. His gut was twisted in knots and had been for days. It was affecting his work. Even his team was noticing something amiss with him. Abby had been pestering him at work today to talk to her, but he knew Em was the only person he needed to talk to right now.
There wasn’t much choice but to just spit it out. “Are we gonna be okay, Em?”
She nearly spit out the sip of beer she had just taken as the words hit her ears. “What? Why wouldn’t we be? Do you think something’s wrong? Did I do something, Jethro?” She was confused, anxious for answers, slightly hurt at his question.
“Maybe that wasn’t the right way to put it.” He held her hand securely within his, hoping to convey some of his true feelings for her in the small gesture. “I don’t mean to say anything is wrong. It’s just that with you going back to regular duty, flying all over the country to solve cases, and my own hectic work schedule, well, you know how hard it’s been to see each other with you in town all the time. I’m just…” He hated to say the words, to admit his own weaknesses, to stake claim in his feelings, but he already opened the can of worms, he might as well go fishing. “I’m just afraid that this is it. We’ve had a great couple of weeks, but time won’t be on our side after this, and what we have will just slip away. I don’t want that, Em. I hope you know that’s not what I want at all.”
He tried to squeeze her hand again, but she was pulling away from him. Turning his head towards the trees in the opposite direction of her, he closed his eyes, willing himself to push back his emotions and put on his stoic face, the one he wore so often in front of others.
Gibbs knew he had long ago mastered the art of showing no weakness, no pain, no fear. It was just part of what made him a crack investigator and ruthless interrogator. He could distance his emotions from the situation. Most of the time. This wasn’t a case. This was his life, his personal life. Despite what his team might think about his lack of a personal life, he did attempt to have one and had been successful in that for the past two weeks. I told you. It always plays out this way. They always hate you. You don’t know when to talk and when you do, you just can’t say the right thing.
Just when he was about to get up, grab his beer, and head in the house to gather up his dad and leave, she stopped him in his tracks before he could fully stand. There she was, out of her chair and standing before him. She looked beautiful tonight, as he always thought she did, but the fear that he may never see her again made him look at her with renewed desire to memorize this sight.
In the light of the moon and stars, he could see the glow of her ruby hair gently flowing around her ivory skin and the soft sparkle of those bejeweled eyes, her full lips still wet with the beer she had just been drinking. It was early July and the heat in the air had her wearing a thin white sleeveless eyelet button-front top, cut to perfectly accentuate her curves and dipping just low enough to bare a hint of cleavage to him. Her tan linen skirt was simple and short, just the way he liked it, showing off her long legs. He noticed she had kicked off the ‘shoes’ he had just earlier complained about and was barefoot with her perfectly French pedicured toes.
Emerald said nothing but reached her hands towards him, taking his head in them and running her slender fingers through his shortly cropped silver hair as he leaned his forehead into her and wrapped his arms around her body, holding her tightly. He wanted to cry. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to know what to feel. He wanted to see the future and know that two weeks from now, two months from now, two years from now, he’d still be holding her like this.
Finally, he found his voice. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t really know what he was sorry for, but he felt it needed to be said, and, for her, he was willing to break his rules and say it.
She leaned over and kissed the top of his head. “We’ll figure it all out. I want this as much as you do, Jethro.” And with that he slid back into the chair, pulling her down on top of him so she would curl up on his lap like she had on previous nights. She gave in willingly to his silent request.
Sitting quietly with Em snuggling into his chest, Jethro felt peaceful, relaxed. For the moments he spent like that with her, his problem with Paloma Reynosa and worries over Mike Franks settled into a smaller place in the back of his mind. The whole world shrank down and became just the two of them. He knew she felt it too, could see it in her eyes when they were alone together.
He slid his hand up her back to the nape of her neck, running his fingers through her hair, gently tugging to direct her lips up to his, bringing them to meet tenderly, closing his eyes to focus on the way her mouth felt moving with his. Slowly parting his lips and feeling hers respond, Jethro slid his tongue across her teeth and sought to meet hers, tightening his grip on her hair, deepening the passion of the kiss as she flicked his tongue with her own playfully, rousing his desire for her.
The hand he had resting on her hip began wandering along her leg to the hem of her skirt, seeking bare skin. Once his fingers were at the edge of the cloth, he began snaking his way up her leg, slowly rubbing at her smooth, hot skin as he moved. She leaned in closer to him, allowing him access as her hands pulled and tugged at his shirt in an effort to expose his stomach and chest.
Jethro leaned forward a bit in the chair, giving her the chance to free his shirt off his back. He relinquished her lips from their kiss briefly while allowing her to pull his shirt up over his head, tossing it over onto the chair she had previously occupied. She wrapped one arm around his neck and across his shoulders, dragging her fingernails the way he liked, just hard enough to turn him on.
That was enough to drive him crazy. He grabbed her hair and pulled her into a feverishly passionate kiss, meanwhile driving his other hand the remaining distance up her skirt and grabbing a handful of her firm ass forcefully and bucking his hips forward against her body for good measure. He wanted no doubt in her mind how aroused she had him at that moment.
A small series of moans escaped her mouth and vibrated into his, indicating her own excitements as his large rough hand kneaded at the soft, taut flesh of her ass. She gripped his chest hairs in response, causing him a tingling pain that he loved and only served to further his burning to desire to lay her back on the grass and take her right there.
Before he knew what was happening, Emerald had pulled back from their kiss, her hands had retreated from his body, but what she did next surprised him even more. She swiveled her body to straddle his lap and come face-to-face with him. Her delicate fingers went to the tiny buttons of her blouse, unbuttoning them one by one, slowly, sexily, her eyes on him, his eyes on the steadily growing trail of exposed ivory flesh in the wake of her fingers’ movements. When her fingers reached the bottom of the blouse, she slowly shrugged out of it, tossing it atop his own shirt and was now sitting perched on his lap in a lacey white bra with a clasp in the front.
He was speechless. Jethro had seen his fair share of women in this state of undress over his lifetime, but never yet had he seen Emerald like this, and she was breathtakingly exquisite to behold. Over the past two weeks, they had certainly taken things slowly as she had said that very first day. They had made out like a couple of teenagers. Sure, he had slid his hand up her tank top a few times when she was braless and felt her breasts. He’d had his hand up her skirt and on her bare ass when she’d been wearing a thong before, and more than a few times he had been shirtless for her, but this was a first for them. He was unsure how to proceed, not wanting to make her regret moving forward. Raising his gaze from her bared flesh to her eyes, he sought the answer.
She gave him a warm smile that brought a light to her eyes he loved to see. “You don’t have to ask. I’m ready. I’ll tell you if I need you to stop.”
Before he could he respond, her slender fingers were at the clasp of her bra and without any sign of hesitation, she released it, slipped off the lacy undergarment, tossing on the other chair and reached out for his hands. With minimal guidance from her, as it was his desire all along to do so, he brought his hands to her ample breasts, at first cupping them and gently squeezing as she leaned into his grasp.
His eyes had wandered to the mounds of perfectly curved flesh in front of him, her hands now releasing his, sliding along his arms, and finding the hard muscle and soft hair of his chest, once again raking her long fingernails along his skin. Jethro slid his hands along the outer curves of her breasts, allowing himself a fuller view of her nakedness. Leaning forward, he brought his mouth to one darkened nipple and licked it slowly, deeply enjoying the sensation of its hardening with each caress of his tongue. Stimulating her other nipple in the same manner while continuing to rub the first with his rough thumb, he could hear her soft moans of pleasure and feel her chest rise and fall in shallow breaths.
Emerald was thoroughly intoxicated by Jethro’s touch, soft despite his calloused hands, the feel of his body under her hands, and his musky scent of Old Spice and sawdust. She felt completely overwhelmed with desire for him, with a need for him, an ache for him. He was warm, inviting, comfortable. He was intelligent and incredibly sexy. He was safe.
Leaning her head down and brushing her lips against his ear, she whispered, “I want you, Jethro.” As if to emphasize her words, she rocked her hips, grinding the heat of her body against the aroused hardness she could feel within the cargo shorts slung low over his hips. She brought her lips to his, kissing him deeply before he could question her, then got up from the chair and stood in front of him.
The moonlight glistening off her bare skin, and Jethro’s eyes glued to her every move, she reached her arms behind her to the zipper of her linen skirt and slowly unzipped it. Emerald slid the skirt below her hips and let it fall to her feet leaving her standing exposed except for the white lace thong he presumed to be a matched set to the bra lying in the nearby chair.
Finding his voice despite the frantic desire to have her nearly choking off his sensibilities, Jethro softly asked, “Em, are you sure about this?” If she’s doing this to keep you after what you said, she’ll never forgive you in the end. “If this is about what I said before, I’m not going anywhere. I swear.”
She shook her head ever so slightly. “That’s not what this is about. I’m just ready. I want to be with you, Jethro. I don’t want to hold back from you.” Not letting him argue any further, she slipped her thumbs under the stretchy lace slung low across her hips and slid off the last remaining barrier between her naked body and Jethro’s eyes.
He couldn’t help but grin at what he saw, a little surprise she’d been hiding beneath her clothes. She blushed crimson red, although he couldn’t see it in the dim light, as she realized what had caught his eye. She had forgotten all about it.
“A tattoo?” His was an impish grin. “Really, I didn’t take you for the tat type, Em.” He leaned in closer to take a look and could barely see clearly enough to make it out. “Is that a four-leaf clover that says ‘Get lucky’ above it?” He choked back a laugh, not wanting to break the mood, assuming he had not already done that.
“Yes. Yes, I have a tattoo. Yes, that’s exactly what it is. It was kind of a joke. I got it after Ben and I got married and told him that was how he would know if I was in the mood or not. If the tat was visible, he was getting lucky that night. If not, he was out of luck.”
Jethro could tell she was feeling awkward by the turn of conversation and wanted to put her at ease. It couldn’t be easy for her to stand there fully exposed, having him examine her body like this. He reached down and pulled off his sneakers and socks as she watched him in silent curiosity. With his feet bare like hers, he stood up from the chair, unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his shorts. Letting them slide down to the ground, he stepped out of them, picked them up and added them to the pile on the other chair. Left in nothing but his black boxer briefs, he caught her gaze with his own and, with eyes locked together, he worked himself out of those as well until he was standing before her just as exposed to her examination.
A smile played at her lips as she realized what he was doing for her. In his own way, he was comforting her, making her feel safe and secure. She stepped to him as he pulled her into a warm embrace and leaned down to kiss her tenderly. The feel of bare skin to bare skin was enticing, a new sensation shared between them, adding fuel to the growing fire they felt for each other.
Their embrace became a tangle of arms and hands searching, grasping, clinging. Their lips seeking purchase on bare skin to further their desire. Fingernails across his back, teeth nipping at her neck, in minutes he found himself on the edge of the chair, now with her straddling his lap, legs wrapped around him, his hands on her hips, guiding her rhythmic motions up and down the length of his hardened shaft. Moans and sighs of pleasure intermingled with Jethro’s heavy breathing and Emerald’s slight panting breathlessness.
Soon their movements came to a frenzied climax of passionate ecstasy, reaching the final moment of release. He sought out her lips, holding her tightly against his chest as he treated her to a bevy kisses across her lips, chin, and neck. He couldn’t find the words to describe how he felt for her as she relaxed into his arms’ embrace. All he knew was he was happy.
Leroy Jethro Gibbs was finally happy after nearly twenty long years.
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