First, let me say thank you, Hannah (grahamlecter) for Beta-reading my story and finding my mistakes so that I can fix them.
Please enjoy!
G-Girl
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Chapter Thirty-Six – …Stays in Vegas
Spencer opened his eyes. Susan was asleep, lying on her side against him, her head on his arm with a little trail of saliva from her slightly open lips. He couldn't help but laugh.
It woke her up.
She lifted her head and saw that she had drooled on him. Wiping his arm with her hand, she asked, "What's going on?"
"Sorry I woke you up, but it seems you aren't perfect after all."
"Now you know my secrets, Love. Sometimes when I sleep, I drool, and if I laugh too hard, sometimes I snort. Can you still love me, Spencer, flawed as I am?" She fluttered her eyelashes, with her hand splayed above her breasts.
He laughed and pulled her close, kissing her. "Yes, I can—every day. I don't even mind when you have morning breath. She gasped, and he chuckled, nuzzling her neck. "Mmm, Honey, I want you..."
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He held her against him as his pulse slowed. "It still amazes me I'm the one who makes you feel that way." They held each other, talking and kissing for a while longer. He was so comfortable and when he felt Susan getting up, he groaned and held her snugly, not ready to let go yet.
Susan giggled, drawing her fingers lazily over his chest. "Lover, I have to pee, and we need food. We could go downstairs, or we could order room service."
"Mm-hmm, we should eat. The obvious choice then… is room service."
She turned, wondering where the menu was as she got up and kissed him. "I'll be right back; then we'll order breakfast."
Tying the robe, Spencer walked to the bathroom as Susan was on her way back to the bed. "Could you please order some coffee, a muffin, and scrambled eggs for me? Thank you, Sweetheart."
She was on the phone ordering breakfast—laying across the bed on her stomach, with her knees bent, absently flexing and pointing her feet—when he came back into the bedroom.
"… and can they send up a can of whipped topping, with the pancakes?... No, in a can… Yes? Awesome… that would be great. Thank you!" She reached over and hung up the phone as Spencer moved over to her on the bed, laying between her knees with his chest over her backside. Holding her waist, he kissed the dimples on her lower back and felt her shudder under him.
"Did I hear something about whipped topping?" His eyebrows arched, and he grinned.
Just then, his cellphone started ringing in the other room. He grumbled and got up. "I should get that. It might be important. I'll be back." In the doorway, he turned his head, looking back at her. "Don't move, I'll be right back." He went out and answered it. "Reid here, this better be good… Oh, sorry… No, I uh... had my hands full. What's up? No, it's not that early, 7? Yeah, it's nice... The Bellagio... in a suite… uh huh… on the… 32nd floor... Mm-hmm... Yeah, a nice view of the fountains and most of Vegas… No, we were about to have breakfast… Yeah, this evening… Mm-hmm. I'll tell her you said hello... Okay, bye." He put his phone down and walked through the bedroom. Hearing the water running, he went into the bathroom, hung up his robe, and got in the shower.
"It was Emily, checking to see how we were doing." He narrowed his eyes playfully, puckering his lips. "You moved."
Susan pressed her lips to his. "Mm-hmm. Room Service should be here in a few minutes, and one of us needs to be ready when they deliver breakfast." Spencer gave her a hurt look, furrowing his brows, sticking his lower lip out. She giggled and kissed him again. "We have plenty of time for more of that later, Caro Mio, but breakfast won't wait for us." After drying off and brushing her teeth, she went into the living room area, tying her robe just as Room Service knocked on the door.
By the time Spencer came out in his robe, Susan had breakfast and cutlery laid out on the table, pouring a cup of coffee from the carafe. His stomach grumbled; he realized how hungry he was and sat down to eat.
"Mmm, everything smells delicious. Thank you for ordering." He leaned over and kissed her when she sat down.
Susan loaded her plate, topping it off with a croissant. "This reminds me of a scene from Pretty Woman."
Spencer shook his head, shrugging. "I've never seen it."
"No? I have the movie at home if you ever wanted to watch it with me. Julia Roberts and Richard Gere. Mmm, this is so good." She told him a summary of the plot.
"Well, I liked Julia Roberts in Notting Hill. It might be nice to watch it with you."
"It's a chick flick, but a good one."
He chuckled and said teasingly, "Watching chick flicks and reading books on a tablet… The things I do for love."
"Oh, ha-ha. This will give me the energy I need for later."
The sofa in the living room had a chaise, like the one at home, so they sat together, relaxing. Susan lay back against Spencer, and he had his arms around her.
"Dad asked if we could join him and Becca at Binion's tomorrow night. How about it? We didn't have plans, did we?"
She scrolled through the tv menu. "No plans. That sounds great. I haven't been downtown in ages, and I've never been to Binion's. Hey, Pretty Woman is available On Demand."
He stared at her; his eyebrows arched high. "You've never been to Binion's? Then you've never tried chicken fried lobster until you've had it at Binion's. Sure? Put it on."
"I've only had broiled lobster like we had last night. Chicken fried anything but chicken makes me… hesitant, but I'm willing to try it. And we could watch more of your movies. Don't feel you have to defer to me."
"Uh… my movie choices are... unusual." He pressed his lips together for a moment. "One time on the jet, we were talking about our favorite gangster movies. Emily said Godfather II was her favorite; Scarface was Morgan's, and JJ's, The Untouchables. I told them my favorite is Le Cercle Rouge, and they stared at me like I was from Mars. Besides that, I enjoy watching your movies."
"I watched that on TCM years ago. I liked it. Yves Montand was good in it and a few other movies. Mmm, let me see if I remember." She spoke softly. "Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha, drew a circle with a piece of red chalk and said: When men, even unknowingly, are to meet one day, whatever may befall each, whatever the diverging paths, on the said day, they will inevitably come together in the red circle. I think I remembered that correctly..."
Spencer smiled and kissed her. "Mm-hmm. That's right. So, what other Yves Montand movies do you like?" He propped his elbow on the arm of the sofa and set his head on his hand.
"Um, On a Clear Day, You Can See Forever, with Barbra Streisand, one of my mom's favorite singers and actors, My Geisha, with Shirley MacLaine, another favorite, because she was a dancer, as well as a singer and actor. I got to meet both at the gallery opening for the Dancer prints. Oh, and Let's Make Love with Marilyn Monroe, another favorite. She was so beautiful, but her story was so tragic. I read somewhere she was extremely intelligent, but people only saw her beauty and her body."
"Hmm. I'm amazed by your intelligence, as well as your beauty. And your body." He held her close.
"You're quite the charmer, Doctor Reid." Susan selected the movie, waiting to hit Play.
"So, if romantic movies are known as chick flicks, what are movies about soldiers, cars, and sports called?"
Susan blinked twice, and with a straight face, said, "Movies."
He laughed. "I was expecting you to say something else."
"I know, right? And my taste in movies is as diverse as my taste in music. I can watch a movie like Pretty Woman, then Star Wars or Avengers. I even like the Rocky movies and can watch them, but I have to turn my head at the bloody punchy parts. Blech." Susan pressed the button on the remote to play the movie. Besides making random observations, or asking questions now and then, he enjoyed the movie. The scene in the movie where Edward snaps the jewelry case on Vivian's hand startled him and made him laugh.
As the movie ended, he said, "Maybe I've worked for the FBI too long; I was surprised a movie about a prostitute didn't have more... uh… sex scenes."
Susan explained, "Garry Marshall directed it. He wanted a feel-good chick flick, more about romance, than just sex. The original story was called 3,000, and it ended in a wildly different direction than the movie."
"Garry Marshall… the actor from the television show Murphy Brown? My dad watched that when I was seven…"
She turned onto her side with her feet tucked under her robe. "He was in Hocus Pocus, too, one of my favorite Halloween movies, and he's directed some other movies I like, as well."
He stared at her wordlessly, and she sat up.
"Spencer?"
He still didn't say anything but had a wry smile on his face. Susan looked into his eyes.
"Are you alright?"
Finally, he spoke. "I was thinking of the look Edward gives Vivian in the movie as she was watching Lucille Ball. How did she know he wanted… uh… oral… sex?"
Susan considered it, then answered with a tilt of her head and a naughty smile. "It was in the script."
He shrugged. "I've never had that… pleasure…"
"Oh?" She got up off the sofa. "I'm gonna get a water bottle, Love. Want one?"
"Yes, please." He figured she was uncomfortable talking about it and changed the subject. She brought back two bottles, handing him one. Spencer thanked her and started searching for another movie, as he took a long drink and set the bottle on the side table. Sliding her hands to the back of his knees, she asked him to move his legs so that he sat diagonally in the corner of the sofa, with his feet on the floor.
Susan leaned over with her knee along his thigh and kissed him, her fingertips grazing lovingly over the nape of his neck. "I've thought about it, too. Remember… I'm willing to jump into the deep end… with you."
"Mmm, that feels good. Yeah, you said that."
"I read an article about this in a Cosmo magazine, but if there's anything you like or don't like, let me know?" She kissed his lips and down his neck, slowly pulling open his robe.
He nodded, breathing harder. "Well, so far, I like it." She moved down, kissing his chest, inching her way lower. He groaned and slid his hands over her shoulders. Laying his head back on the corner of the sofa, he sighed. Ripples of pleasure washed over him. Then he closed his eyes. It went from an intense, incredible sensation to feeling himself tensing. Not in a good way. A memory long buried bubbled up to the surface in flashes. "I can't… I can't do this." Spencer pulled her up and back onto his lap, wanted her to be close, wanted to feel her body against him. Wanted to be deep inside her, where he felt good.
Feeling better and now completely satisfied—but silent—he sat for a while, with his arms around Susan, still astride his lap, snuggled against him.
She reached for the water bottle, took a long drink, and set it back down, then lay against him for a while longer.
When Spencer finally got up to use the bathroom, Susan tied her robe and sat back down on the chaise. He came back out and sat with his back against her.
"For what it's worth, that was incredible. I wasn't ready to um… it's uh… difficult to explain... Obviously... I have... issues."
"You can talk to me about anything, Love. I won't judge."
After a few more silent minutes, he finally spoke. "When I was 15, attending Caltech, I tutored students. Two of them roomed together. One evening, they didn't show up for their session, so I went to their room. The door was open a few inches, so I went in. They were watching what I found out later was a stag film, and in it, several guys were standing in a circle around a woman… on her knees. They were… umm…" He looked repulsed and turned his face up to see a similar expression on Susan's face.
"Umm…" she said quietly. "Hmm."
"That has to be the reason I got creeped out about the thought of ejac-… uh… damn, and I used to think terms of endearments was a tough subject. I talk about serial rapists, sexual sadists, and all sorts of sexual deviants at work, but intimate sex talk? Yikes. That's… difficult for me. How do you do it?"
"I think I get the picture… the film, I mean. I imagine that would be disturbing for a 15-year-old." She shook her head. "As for talking about sex, it's a skill; takes practice. You know about that, in your job. Intimate sex talk is basically the same skill set. I have to talk about it in my job too, but it's never affected me. Watching some R-rated movies should expose you to a more casual vernacular. In all seriousness, though, having sex, we should be able to talk about it, right? About what you or I like, what we don't, things we want to try, and things we have no interest in doing."
He slipped his arms around her again and kissed her neck. "Hmmm, sounds good. Want to know what I like? Your body is what I like. Actually, I love your body. How I make you feel and how you make me feel."
"Trust me, I can tell, and I love how you make me feel."
"That's nice to hear you say that. I have no doubt; I'll get there… with you." He cleared his throat. "Something you said before… about your dreams, back then being more innocent…? What did you mean? What happened since then?"
"Oh, Lizette and Jinny got me hooked on Sex and the City, Game of Thrones, and Outlander, three… adult cable shows."
"Adult?" His eyebrows arched. "But not porn. Right?"
"Right. No. Game of Thrones was more, think… Le Grand Guignol. Yes, there was sex, but nothing hard-core." She summarized the other two shows. "After that, my dreams of you took on a more… adult tone. Funnily enough, I never had nightmares from all the blood and violence in Game of Thrones."
"I've watched you dreaming… twice." Spencer grinned. "It was very… um… entertaining. Maybe you and I could watch some of those shows together…" Holding her close, he nuzzled her neck, his breath soft in her ear.
Susan smiled, closed her eyes, and shuddered. "Mm-hmm…"
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Thank you, as always, for taking the time to read this. IF you feel so inclined to drop me a line, I'd be grateful. I'm always thrilled to hear from the readers out there. Tell me what you like about the story, or what you don't like.
I don't own any of the Criminal Minds characters, but I admire and respect the cast and crew of Criminal Minds. So much so that I want to do my best writing them in this story.