MIDNIGHT PLEASURE, spencer reid ✔

chapter seven

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WEDNESDAY NIGHT came at the speed of light, I have not been that productive lately. I thought about the date, how dinner would go, and if someone might interrupt us, like a new case for the FBI. I hope it will not be that way this time, because last time it ruined all the fun that would follow.

I turned my gaze to the mirror in front of me. Somehow that mirror always showed all my imperfections, which I had grown to love over time. Like my nose or my hips. I wanted to look good for myself and the place I was going, but I did not know where we were going. Maybe this short beige dress is not a bad choice for something more formal. But I want to add some color to my overall look, and that's where the purple dress comes in. This is her time to shine, I knew I would need it eventually.

It was half past seven on the little digital clock right next to the bed. Less than thirty minutes to go. Spencer is coming soon and I am excited and feel like I have stage fright.

I spent the time walking around the apartment, I had nothing else to do. After a long wait, the doorbell finally rang. He is there. He's standing in front of the door.

I immediately opened the door for him and let him know I was waiting for him. He had a stunned look on his face, just like me.

"Wow, y- you look amazing," Spencer says hastily, his face running red as he puts his hands in his pockets and adjusts his slowly visible erection.

I laugh at his reaction because I know I have a waterfall down there. I have seen him in a suit many times, but this one was somehow different from the others. A black plain suit with a pink, almost light purple shirt, this time without a tie. "You are not bad either, you look very handsome," I returned the compliment, which was a toned down truth. We do not linger long in front of my apartment, but save all the talk for the way to the car and the trip to the restaurant itself. On the way there, I think about how that actually happens, going out to dinner with an older man. Eleven years older. A man I met in the library, who helped me choose a book, and who turned out to be my professor a month later. It doesn't happen to everyone, it's a pressure for both of us, but it's also fun. I feel safer with him and like I'm part of his environment.

"A friend recommended this restaurant to me, Italian food made from old recipes, pasta, pizza, whatever you choose will be perfect," he says with such interest about the restaurant he's never been to. He really is a geek because he must have learned everything about the restaurant before he picked me up so he could sweet talk me.

"I wouldn't say you're a fan of Italian cuisine," I analyze him. My gaze flies over his face and then his body; I can't stop looking at him.

"But you're, I want to please you," he averts his gaze from the road for a moment and looks at me.

His hand found its way to my thigh, squeezed it gently, and let his hand rest on me. What he's doing is intentional, because we are only two hundred yards from the restaurant parking lot and have no other option but to go in and eat.

And we both want much more.

He opens the door of the "after you" restaurant and signals me to go ahead of him. Spencer is quite the gentleman, I can not deny that upon closer inspection, even if his main goal was to eye me from behind. I'd be lying if I said I did not like that, and fortunately he was able to keep the situation under control in his underpants.