Disclaimer: I don't own 'em…

Loud music and the droning din of what appeared to be everyone that Greg knew was making it hard for me to hear what Catherine was whispering in my ear. We had gradually worked our way to the farthest corner of the room, hoping to gain enough privacy to carry on a conversation.

After twenty more minutes of having to say "huh" and "what did you say," I grabbed her hand and pulled her through the kitchen and into the garage that was adjoined to the house.

"What do we have here? A pool table?" she said as she ran her fingers over the green felt that had yet to be marred by chalk and pool sticks.

"Yeah, Greg said that before he even bought furniture for this place he ordered his pool table," I said as I walked around the table, finishing off my beer.

I could feel her eyes on me. I had only had a couple of beers—a true testament to sobriety. Cath, however, had done shots with the guys and had a few beers in her too.

"Still, I never pegged Greg as a pool table sorta guy. The surfboard, I understand. But a pool table just seems so…."

"…cliché," I add as I put the rack on the table and start to position the balls in it. "Almost as cliché as…."

My breath hitched and all thoughts left my mind as I felt Cath's hand move over my ass and slip between my legs. I could only close my eyes and lean heavily against the table to hold myself up. We'd been out a several times and had made out and had one heavy petting session—that was cut short my Lindsey's unexpected return from shopping with friends.

She pulled me up and back against her, her hands running over my stomach and coming up to cup my breasts. "Almost as cliché as what, Sar?" She turned me around to face her.

"Uh…I…"

Her hands drifted under my shirt as her mouth found my neck. I licked my lips and closed my eyes, focusing on the sensations traveling through every nerve in my body.

"I've never seen you at a loss for words," she murmured as she lifted my shirt over my head.

My arms rose to help her remove it without my consent. There are at least forty people no less than a wall away from us right now and I can't bring myself to tell her no. I can't for one second believe that anyone in that room would be able to resist her if she had her sights set on them.

I opened my eyes long enough to see that cocky, half-lit smirk on her face. "Are you going to tell me what's so cliché….or am I going to have to fuck it out of you?"

I bit my bottom lip and felt the wetness gathering between my legs. As much as I wanted Cath to have her way with me, I had always wanted to fuck someone on a pool table. And looking at Catherine right now, I couldn't think of anyone better to fulfill this fantasy with.

Without a second thought, I reversed our positions and pinned her against the edge of the table. I ran my hands down to her hips and lifted her, sitting her on the table. Her skirt moved further up, exposing creamy, silky thighs.

I moved between her legs and bent forward to kiss her. Catherine expected this and attempted to close the distance. I stopped short at the last instant. Our eyes met and while hers questioned what I was doing, my sparkled with desire and lust. I leaned forward and she once again bent towards me. I stopped. I leaned in and gave short nips at her lips, each time pulling back before going in for another nip.

As I gave up toying with her and kissed her deeply, her hands moved to my hips, pulling me closer to her. I took her hands and put them on the pool table's surface. I trailed kisses down her neck as I gradually leaned her backwards. When she was finally on her back, I flattened my hands and ran them down over her breasts, over the short, taut expanse of her stomach before they came to rest on her hips. I gave a quick jerk, pulling her ass to the very edge of the table before moving back up to her shirt.

Starting at the bottom, I began to unbutton her shirt. As each button was released, new skin was revealed. I kissed and nibbled my way up from her navel to her breastbone. As I freed the last button, I was pleasantly surprised to find a bra that fastened in the front and quickly unhooked it.

She had her arms stretched out, grabbing a side pocket with each and holding on. She hadn't said a word, but had uttered all sorts of sounds which only served to heighten my arousal. A thin sheen of sweat was covering her and a flush was spreading across her chest. I licked my lips in anticipation of feeling her rose colored nipple against my tongue.

I was half on top of her, my toes barely touching the floor when I closed my lips around it and felt her rise off the table as the warm, moist heat of my mouth collided with her flesh. I alternated between swirling my tongue around her nipple and sucking gently on it before finally turning to the other one. I didn't want it to feel orally neglected. While I was assaulting her breasts with my mouth, she was doing whatever she could to move against me and bring some relief to herself. That tight skirt and our position made that almost impossible—though I did enjoy her attempt.

When she put her hands on my head and started pushing, obviously urging me to where she wanted me to go, I had no choice but to leave a trail of bite marks down her torso. I reached the top of her skirt, and now had my feet firmly planted on the floor. Instead of removing her skirt, I decided just to hitch it up over her hips and leave it bundled around her waist. Imagine my surprise when she lifted her hips to help me and I discovered she hadn't worn any panties. If I hadn't already been sopping wet, I would have been in that instant.

My mouth watered as her scent wafted up to me. I could only look down at the barren mound that topped her glistening lips. I slowly trailed my gaze up her body until my eyes locked on her.

"You like?" she asked innocently enough.

Instead of answering, I immediately lowered my mouth and raked my tongue along her folds. She shuddered and groaned, "Oh fuck," as my tongue swirled around her swollen clit. She tasted like honey and lemons. Her heels dug into my back and she sat nearly upright on the table as I slipped my tongue inside her.

Her fingers were tangled in my hair as she pleaded breathlessly, "More…please…more."

My face was still buried in her wet center but I looked up at her eyes. I had never seen a sexier sight than Catherine Willows, nearly totally exposed, head thrown back, overcome with passion and the verge of an orgasm.

I closed my lips around her enlarged bundle of nerves and sucked tenderly as I flicked my tongue back and forth, up and down and around her clit. When I could sense that Cath was close to cumming, I sped up my efforts, quickly taking her over the edge. She collapsed backwards heavily against Greg's new table, spent from her orgasm. But I wasn't done with her.

I climbed up on the table and she slid up so that she was lying completely on it. Still completely clothed, I lowered myself onto her. Her breathing hadn't yet returned to normal, and small quakes were still visibly shaking her body.

I didn't say a word, but kept my eyes trained on hers as I slid a hand between us and easily slid three fingers inside her. My rhythm was slow, deep, and steady. I could feel her walls clenching and tightening around my fingers as her nails dug into my back. I broke eye contact to kiss her neck. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to move inside her. I wanted to memorize this sensation—to be able to call it forth when the need arose to pleasure myself.

I knew she came when she bit into my shoulder. The thing material of my tank top did very little to impede her teeth from sinking into the fleshy part of my shoulder. I wasn't about to let her know how badly it hurt, even though I winced in pain into her shoulder.

I rolled off of her and onto my back, staring up at the ceiling in Greg's garage.

"He really needs to get one of those cool bar-hall type of lights to hang over this table," I said as I turned to Catherine with a big grin on my face.

"A light? You think he needs a light over this table? You just fucked me into a puddle of jelly and all you can talk about is that he needs a light over this table?" she snorted as she sat up and then slid from the table.

She looked back at me and laughed, "A light? Are you serious?" I couldn't take my eyes off her as she was busy straightening her clothes out in an attempt to get rid of that 'just got fucked look' she was wearing.

I sat so that my feet were dangling over the side before pushing myself up from the table and landing on my feet. "We really need to get him a housewarming gift now that…well…since we christened his pool table, it's the least we can do."

As we walked back into the party (which had not died down in the least) Cath added, "Yeah, we'll pick him a light. It's the least we can do."

XXXXXX

The next day, as Cath and I walked into the lab for our shift, it was hard not to notice what a foul mood Greg was in.

"Greggo, what's wrong with you?" Cath asked as she ruffled his hair before heading to the coffee pot.

"Did you guys notice anyone go into the garage last night?"

Cath looked to me for help before saying firmly, "No."

I shook my head and stuffed my hands in my pockets, "I didn't see anyone go in there."

Cath, probably the best poker player in our little group, asked, "Why? What happened?"

Greg slouched back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, "I just bought a pool table. A brand new pool table. I go out there this morning to put the empty beer bottles in the recycling bins and there's this huge stain in the middle of my table. There was a beer bottle on the floor. I think one of my so called friends went out there and spilled a beer. Do you realize how much it's going to cost me to have that felt replaced?" He huffed. He was obviously upset about the table. We hadn't even noticed the wet spot when we walked out of there.

"Cath, Sara. DB at the Tangiers," Grissom said as he stepped into the break room and disappeared just as quickly.

We were barely in the parking lot before Cath busted out laughing—cackling is a more apt description—and said, "I think we owe him way more than a light now."

"You think he knows?" I asked. The last thing I wanted was Greg knowing that I had fucked Catherine on his table.

She stopped midstride and turned and invaded my personal space. Three months ago, this would have bothered me more than words could describe. Today, it was a different story as my pulse and respiration increased exponentially from being in such close proximity to her. "Did you see that sad puppy dog look on his face? He's convinced that someone spilled beer on his precious table. He doesn't have a clue that you had me so wet and fucked me so good that I soaked his table."

I was still standing there, my mouth hanging open when she honked the horn to get my attention.

Yeah, after shift, I'm definitely going to buy Greg a light to hang over that pool table.

A/N: Pure smut, I know. Immi asked for it. And whatever Immi asks for, she gets.