Tis The Season to Gibbs

But for now, she needed to escape the silver strands of the man's web. As quickly as she could, she needed to escape from Jethro. She bent and kissed Kelsey's brow. "All right then, I'll leave you two to read. I'm tired myself. Sleep well, angel."

Her daughter shook her head, "I'm no angel, Mommy. But I have one. She's so pretty and she comes to me in my dreams. She told me that she was going to bring me to the best Daddy in the whole wide world. And she did."

Debbie choked at her daughter's frank and honest words. Her eyes glazed over with tears as she mumbled good night once more and practically ran from the room. She barely made it behind the closed doors of the room she was staying in when they began to spill over in torrents. She threw herself across the bed and cried herself to sleep. The embarrassment she felt at Kelsey's innocent claim on the man was nothing compared to the heart ache of the pain that Debbie knew was to come. Some dreams just never came true.

***

Screams rent his sleep. He sat up straight in his bed, tossing back the covers. For a moment, he was not certain where he was. It was always like that when he woke from nightmares. Was it Iraq? Mexico? Or a thousand horrible other places he had been, the things he had seen? He took a deep breath and realized that this time it was not his screams that had woken him. He padded from his room, wearing nothing but the boxers that he had taken to wearing since they had moved into his house.

When he opened his door, he saw her sleepy little head poking from the doorway of Kelly's old room. But the screams could still be heard, it was obviously not Kelsey. The distraught look on the child's face brought out every protective instinct inside of him. He needed to make this right for her. He bent down in front of the child.

"Someone's hurting Mommy. Make them stop, Daddy," she pleaded. His heart stopped at the word that he had not heard in almost twenty years.

"Shh, baby girl. Your Mommy's just having a bad dream," he tried to explain.

She pulled out of his arm and shook her head, "Dreams aren't bad. Dreams are good. They are where we go to visit our angels. You think my angel can go take care of Mommy?"

"Tell you what, Kelsey, you go back to bed. Go to sleep and ask your angel to do that. I'll go make sure that your Mommy is all right until then. We got a deal?"

The girl smiled widely as if certain that everything would be perfect now. She hugged him and whispered, "I know you'll take care of us, the angel said so." Then she turned and slipped back inside the room that was a living testament to how inadequate he really was at taking care of those he loved the most.

He knelt in the hallway for a moment, trying to collect his courage. Maybe he should go back to his room, the screams were beginning to quiet a bit. The woman had made it more than obvious since Christmas night that she did not need or want his protection. It was only her guilt and sense of responsibility that he had manipulated that had kept her here at all. This was a bad idea, he thought as he turned the nob on the bedroom door.

Bare limbs were tangled in the white sheets. Her tiny fists plummeted the mattress next to her. Those auburn curls that always made his cock rock hard were strewn across the pillow, a tangled mess. Her green eyes were staring at the ceiling, but he could tell they saw other things.

"No," she screamed. He could tell that her voice was hoarse, she had cried so loudly that she barely had one left. What nightmare could be so horrid? The woman has seen so much in the past few weeks. Her husband gunned down in his study. The bombing that was meant to kill her and her daughter. It was no wonder she was having nightmares. Post Traumatic Stress, PTSD, why had he not thought of it sooner? Made her talk to someone? But it was too late now. Now he just needed to talk her down. Bring her out of that place slowly.

He walked slowly to the bed, knelt down next to it. His voice was low and calm as he called her name, "Debbie. Debbie, it's all right. It is just a dream. Kelsey is fine. She's asleep in the room across the hall. Your daughter is safe," he reassured her.

The creature that had overtaken her body shook more violently. Her voice was nothing more than a loud, breathless whisper, "Not Kelsey. Kelsey's going to be fine. Him," she cried.

Jethro felt the invisible knife to his heart. He knew that the woman still made excuses for her husband's heartless rejection of his child, but how could she possibly still love the man so much that his death brought on nightmares? Nightmares more so than even the accident that had been intended for her daughter?

"He's hurt. I have to go to him," she cried still unseeing.

He risked it and reached out, brushing her bare arm softly as he spoke, "Debbie, Kelsey needs you. You have to come back to her."

She nodded her head, "You're right. Kelsey needs me. Kelsey. Kelsey's hurt, but so is he. Oh god, who do I go to? How do I decide? Kelsey," she sobbed. He pulled her gently towards him, wrapping her in his arms slowly so as not to startle her.

"Jethro," she cried out and for a moment he thought that she was coming out of it. Recognized his touch. But then she was pushing him away, fighting wildly to break free of his hold. "Jethro," she cried again. "Let me go. Have to get to him. He's hurt. Oh god," she cried.

He could not breath as her words sunk into his thick skull. It was him. She was dreaming about the explosion. And it was him that she was fighting to get to. He was torn. He knew that he needed to bring her out of the dream slowly and safely. But god damn it to hell, his body was on fire. Holding her like this, her nightmare-induced words revealing truths he knew she would never willingly offer. It was the first shimmer of hope that he had had since that kiss by the tree on Christmas Eve and he wanted all that it elusively offered.

First things first though, "Shh, Debs, I'm right here, sweetheart. I'm fine. Kelsey is fine. Everything is going to be all right." He ran his good hand up and down her bare arm as he held her, pressing kisses into the tangled mass that smelled like sunshine and honeysuckles. He moved her over in the bed slowly, lying next to her on top of the covers. He drew her into his arms and held her as the crying quieted. He was not sure how long they stayed like that until he heard the soft snores caress his bare chest.

"Fuck," he spat into the chilly night air. He was hard as a rock. Holding her like this was doing things to his body that he could not honestly remember feeling in a very long time.

Shannon. Jennie. And now Debbie. His track record at protecting the women he loved was not good. Yet that was the number one thing that a good Dom was supposed to do. Protect his sub. But he had failed Shannon. He had committed the cardinal sin of placing something above the safety of his wife and sub. He loved this country, but he had loved his family more. It was too late by the time he realized that. It was too late too by the time he realized how Jennie felt.

But it did not have to be with Debbie. They had been given a second chance. He had done it this time. He had managed to save his daughter and the woman he loved. And that little girl had become his daughter. Even before those precious sleepy words in the hall, he had known that. Now he wanted her to repeat them over and over again. Thousands of times, tens of thousands, a million times over a lifetime. And he wanted this woman that he held to offer up her sweet admissions, not out of fear in her nightmares, but in passion in his arms, under his lips, as his body showed her how much he returned them.

Drowsiness fogged his thinking. All he knew was how fucking right it felt to hold this woman in his arms as he fell asleep. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would formulate a battle strategy to make sure that this was just the first night of the rest of their lives. He kissed her forehead and drew her closer against his body. Damn, it was uncomfortable trying to fall asleep with a raging hard-on but it would be worth it in the end. He would make damned sure of that.

***

Debbie frowned as she curled closer to the warmth of the firm pillow. Her nipples hardened against the soft silk of her nightgown. It smelled just like him, she thought as wetness pooled between her thighs. Coffee and man, she held the thought as she buried her face in the slightly rough fur that covered her pillow.

Fur? Pillow? She swallowed hard as the fuzz cleared from her addled brain. The dim light of pre-dawn filtered through the open curtains as she tentatively opened her eyes and took in the bare expanse of his chest. His chest hairs tickled her nose. The warmth of bare skin greeted her seeking fingers as they curled into his side.

She tried to remember. How had he gotten into her bed? Oh god, what had happened? Had she finally found it impossible to deny her body what it wanted most? No, there was no doubt if she had it would be feeling much more satisfied than the needy traitor that ached and pleaded for her fingers to explore lower.

So what had happened? She knew enough about the man to know he would never take advantage of their situation to simply climb into her bed. She racked her brain for an answer, but without the caffeine hit from a cup of steamy hot coffee, she came up empty handed. Except her hands weren't empty, they had exactly what they wanted. More so than even coffee this morning.

She sighed as she tried to slip quietly out of his arms, but they only tightened about her waist. She worked up her courage and looked up into those blue-grey depths that were clouded with sleep. Or was it desire? She swallowed as she sought words, something to say, anything.

"Good morning," his voice was impossibly low as the words caressed her skin.

Her nipples hardened into hard points against the thin layer of silk that separated them from his chest. Needy heat clinched at her womb as his lips covered hers. They were hard and demanding, his teeth nibbled at her lower lip until her fingernails sank deep into his flesh. Her lips parted in a soft moan and he took the opportunity to plunder the recesses of her mouth with his tongue until she was clinging and trembling beneath him. His lips left hers, trailing kisses and tiny bites down the side of her neck. She bit into her lower lip to hold back the moans, only to discover that it was ultra sensitive and sore from his ministrations.

"Jethro, please," she pleaded.

"Please what, Debs," he asked against the pounding pulse in her throat. His words caressing her skin caused it to pound even more erratically.

"We have to stop," her words were negated by the greedy way that her fingers clenched his warm skin, drawing his body closer against her. Until she felt the hard length of his erection pressed at the juncture of her thighs. She did moan then.

His hand came up to cup her breast through the thin material, his fingers plucked and pulled at the tender flesh of her nipple. "No, Debbie. We don't and we aren't. You want me just as much as I need you," his hand trailed slowly down her side and around her hip. His fingers found her throbbing clitoris and she cried out as the rough pad of his thumb stroked the nub.

She moaned as she arched into his caress, his teeth finding the sensitive spot where her shoulder and neck came together. "This changes nothing, Jethro," her words sounded hallow even to her own ears as she spread her legs, his fingers sinking inside her wet core as she arched into his touch.

"Yes, it does. And you know it," he said as he curled his fingers inside of her, finding the magic spot that sent her body spiraling out of control.

Her fingernails sank even deeper into his flesh. She knew that they would break the skin, leaving small crescents on his side. But she was beyond caring as she gave into the power of her orgasm. "Jethro," she cried out, burying her face into his shoulder to keep from screaming out and waking Kelsey.

She felt him shift, move over her. "Debbie, my fucking boxers. Use those vicious nails of yours for something useful, baby. I need to be inside of you. Now," he commanded.

Her mind argued with her body. This was insanity. Was she really about to have unprotected sex with this man? But it seemed her body had by-passed her conflicted mind as she realized her hands were moving, complying with his demands. But they were not just his, her body wanted this, needed this just as badly. Just like he had said.

Her head arched back against the pillow as he filled her. Her body that was still recovering from that first orgasm was suddenly flying out of control as another claimed her. And another as he moved deeper still. She clung to him as the roller coaster ride pushed her higher and higher, leaving her hanging, then plunging her down, faster and harder than anything she had ever felt. Ever imagined.

"Jethro," she cried out as his lips claimed hers. Drinking in her screams. Swallowing each moaning plea as he drove her higher and harder. She did not think she could handle even one more staggering orgasm as she whimpered and clung to him. She pleaded with him, but she was not sure what it was she wanted. Or needed. "Jethro," she whispered reverently as she felt her body tightening and pulling at his hard shaft inside her.

"Yes, baby. Yes, I'm right with you, sweetheart. Let go. God, let go, baby girl," he whispered against the side of her face and he lunged so deeply inside of her that she swore they would actually fuse together, entwined for all time, interlocked for eternity. The tsunami crested over her already satisfied and exhausted body, wiping away everything she thought she knew. Everything that was solid and secure in her world tilted and was torn away as she drifted back to this strange new world in his arms.

They were both still clothed. Her nightgown bunched about her thighs. His boxers pushed down just enough to free his cock. But never had she felt more naked. More vulnerable. As the enormity of their actions floated into her sex soaked mind.

"Oh my god," she breathed.

"I prefer Master, but I'll take god as long as you look as satisfied as you do right now," he teased against her neck.

She pushed at him, trying to dislodged his weight that her own body found surprisingly reassuring. "Be serious. This is no time for teasing, Jethro."

He rose up above her, just enough to stare down into her eyes. She sucked in a deep breath as the movement caused his still hard cock to press even deeper inside of her. His own eyes clouded over as the after tremors betrayed her words.

"I'm dead serious, Debs."

Anger welled up inside of her at the confidence he wore like a second skin. How could he be so fucking calm about everything when her mind was reeling with the ramifications of what had just happened between them? She used that burst of anger, transferring its energy as she shoved at his bad shoulder this time. It was just enough to catch him off balance, enough for her to slip from beneath him, running for the door as his laughter trailed after her.

***

She had been hiding from him all day. First she had fussed and fiddled with getting Kelsey ready for school. Then she had spent the rest of the day hiding in her work, painting in the solarium. He was getting more than a bit curious about what was on that canvas that she kept hidden beneath the cloth when she was not working on it. He knew that whatever it was, she found satisfying and relaxing.

She had been an art major before dropping out of college to marry the asshole, as he still thought of the dead man. After that she had lost herself in becoming the perfect officer's wife and mother, as she said. But obviously, some part of her soul still belonged to her first love of art. He just hoped that the unfiltered truth of her nightmares meant what he thought it did, that some part of her heart belonged to him as well. He was counting on it...and the way her body responded to his.

But first he needed to put an end to this hiding. He smiled as he watched her and Kelsey slip from the bathroom. His little girl was wearing pink bunny pajamas with feet. And looked almost as cute as her mother.

"Ready for your bedtime story, princess?" he tried to look innocent as he smiled at them, holding up the storybook.

The child pounced across the hallway towards him. She grabbed his hand and practically drug him into the bedroom as he saw her mother biting her lower lip and turning towards the door across the hall. He dropped down and whispered conspiratorially with her for a moment.

"Mommy, mommy," the child cried out as she rushed out into the hall and blocked her mother's escape. "You have to come to."

Debbie shook her head. "It's fine, sweetie. Let Mister Gibbs read you your story tonight. I can use the break until we move back home."

Kelsey pulled at her hand and shook her head, "No, Mommy. I told you the angel said," the child began.

"Kelsey, there are no angels. No happily ever afters. No perfect daddies," she cried out at the child. He felt the sharp pain of guilt as he watched the little girl's lip curl up and saw the huge tears gathering in her eyes. He stood up to go to them when Debbie dropped to her knees next to her daughter, wrapping the little girl in her arms. "No perfect Mommies either, sweet pea. I'm sorry for yelling at you. It isn't your fault. Mommy is just worried," she paused.

"But you don't need to worry anymore, Mommy. That's what Daddies are supposed to do," the child caressed her mother's cheek as tears spilled from both their eyes.

Deb sighed, "Oh sweetie, if life were only that simple," she muttered as she kissed her.

The girl drew back and tugged at her hand, "Come listen to my bedtime story, Mommy. Please."

Her green eyes met his over the child's head. He watched the battle play out in them, the needless battle, the one she was not going to win. Maybe he was playing dirty, but that was nothing new. He did what he needed to win, whatever it took. And if that meant utilizing the big gun of her daughter's happiness, so be it. He saw resignation lit in the depths of her eyes and knew that he had accomplished his goal. He had won this battle...and he was one step closer to winning the war.

He could barely think. Let alone read with her sitting so close to him on the tiny bed. Honeysuckles and woman enveloped his senses in a cloud of need that he swore was building towards a super cell of passion that would consume them both.

"And they lived happily ever after," he smiled down at the sleepy eyes of the little girl as they began to drift close.

"See, Mommy. They lived happily ever after. I told you so," she whispered as her mother bent to kiss the top of her head.

He slipped quietly into the hall and waited as she tucked the child in for the night. Time for the real battle to begin. Her shoulders were slumped as she tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind her. He leaned against the one across the hall, blocking her route of escape. She squared her shoulders and stared at him, fight suddenly sparking back to life in those green depths.

"Move, Jethro. I'm tired and I want to go to bed," she met his gaze and held it for a moment. It became a battle of wills, a stare down. "Alone," she spat as if to end the argument.

He stepped away from the door and watched her sigh at the seeming ease of victory. But her confidence was short lived as he stopped in front of her. Their bodies were so close that he could almost feel the electric sparks of sexual energy arcing between them. He stared down into her eyes. She dropped her gaze quickly. He smiled. That single move told him volumes about his woman. She was as submissive as he thought.

He had long since learned that the seemingly strongest women almost always were. Like the woman before him, they might battle for careers or their families, but the one place they did not want to win the battle was the bedroom. Only with a man stronger than they were could they find the kind of sensual release and freedom in their own submissive natures. And he was so looking forward to training this one, showing her the depths of her own submission and the heights to which it and he could take her body, mind and soul.