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Magic Hands and Pelvic Sorcery

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It probably should have been more difficult for Elle and Spencer to make living together work, but they managed to find a routine. As the pregnancy progressed, he set aside time for doctor's appointments and Lamaze classes, and she scoured the real estate section while he was in the field. They had their eye on a house in a suburb of DC, but neither of them were completely sold on the idea of life in the 'burbs. Every time he left to work a case, he'd touch her stomach, a fleeting gesture before he departed. As a reminder, because there was a way where he still couldn't believe it.

Elle looked for ways to occupy herself, and on the nights when Spencer spooned up against her back she would savor his warmth and feel content, as if everything was possible. She'd even made careful inroads with her former co-workers. Not for approval, because she'd outgrown the need for that, but to make things easier. For whatever future lay ahead. They'd talked it over and decided not to find out if the baby was a boy or a girl, although she had the sneaking suspicion he wanted a daughter. He had an inkling that she'd like a son, but they never really broached the subject. Even having found a rhythm that worked for both of them, everything still felt new.

Spencer was sitting on the couch one evening, having finished his paperwork while still at the office, and he glanced up from his coffee cup when Elle sat down close to him. She'd cut way back on the caffeine, but she would have a sip of his now and then. He gestured at the cup, and she shook her head and aligned her back with the cushion. The profiler watched her shift a bit, turned his attention more fully in her direction.

"You okay? Is your back bothering you?"

"The back is fine. Its the feet that are killing me."

Elle had toed her shoes off without untying them, and she saw Spencer glance down at her sock-clad feet. Her ankles, thank God, had only had minimal swelling, and now that seemed to have subsided. But her dogs were barking from tending to errands that afternoon, and she wriggled her toes against the pale carpet.

Ever the solicitous boyfriend, Spencer scooted back on the sofa, then patted his thighs. "Bring them up here," he invited, and after a few moments Elle had re-situated herself, putting her feet where he could get to them. She liked watching his hands work, especially when he put them on her. He bared each foot, peeling the socks off to drop them on the floor. Her long hair cascaded over the armrest of the sofa.

He started on the heel, his thumbs applying careful pressure. If you pressed too hard it would hurt; not hard enough and you might as well be tickling. She was watching his fingers work, and her lower lip got snagged between her teeth when he found a particularly sensitive spot. She must have made some noise, an intake of breath, because he looked up inquiringly. The pad of his left thumb had found her instep, and it paused in the slow circle it had been making.

"Am I hurting you? I can feel a little crinkle in the arch. Not quite a cramp, but I can go slower if you'd like."

"No, it''s fine, Spencer. Your efforts are much appreciated."

And Elle had been feeling a little hormonal. Hormonal bordering on horny. Maybe it was the new proximity, living at close quarters with him. Or maybe it was just the changes in her body. Right now, she didn't care to examine it. The brunette smiled when Spencer's unruly hair fell over his forehead as his hands went back to work.

He was mindful of her warmth, the way the crinkle he'd felt gradually relaxed under his ministrations. They were in for the night, and she'd showered and put on clean pajamas. He was still dressed, but his feet were bare and his white button down was untucked, the top two buttons unfastened. He pressed his thumb into the ball of her foot, and she went back to watching his hands.

"Spencer?" She broke the silence after several minutes, and her eyes were still focused on his fingers, but her tone had shifted the barest fraction. He looked up, and it occurred to her that the messier his hair was, the more she liked it.


"Take your shirt off."

His head tipped to the right, the curious look he so often got crossing his face, and after a second he released her foot and started in on his other buttons. She'd folded her other leg underneath her, and some shifting of her weight allowed her to stretch out the limb. A soft noise, a contented sound, escaped from her throat when he shucked the shirt from his shoulders, draping it on the backrest.


"So, so much better."

Elle's gaze wandered up Spencer's bare torso, then back down his arms. His hands had reclaimed their post on her foot, but now he was just holding it. The left corner of his mouth quirked when she gently tugged it free, then placed it between his legs, the sole coming to rest solidly on his groin. Despite the pregnancy, or maybe even because of it, they were still in that phase where almost everything the other did was a turn-on. She could see him walk into a room and every nerve would suddenly be alert to his presence, and he'd watched her ass on more than one occasion while she got dressed in the morning. The ex-profiler chuffed softly when she moved again, this time to come towards him.

"I'm not too heavy, am I?"

She said it as she gingerly lowered her weight, because he'd moved too, his long legs making part of a lap for her. He shook his head, his hands finding purchase on her hips before one gravitated to the small of her back. She hovered above him, her mouth teasingly within reach, and the fingers of the hand not on his naked shoulder were playing with his hair. His eyes had darkened a shade or two.

"Y'know, half the time this thing's like something that's not even real?"

She said it against the side of his neck, alternating between talking and nibbling at his jawline. There was a spot just under the shelf of his chin that she particularly liked. She hardly ever talked about her feelings unless they were alone, seeing no reason to show anyone else her soft side. But at times like this, for him, she could be vulnerable.

Spencer's fingers were flexing against the soft cotton of her pajama pants, and he could feel his cock stirring. Her swelled stomach was brushing against his belly. Maybe it should have been less exciting - after all, he'd walked her through morning sickness - but the weight of her was putting a hum in his blood. Her hair half-obscured his face when he turned his head and kissed the corner of her mouth. He felt the smile rather than saw it, used his grasp to pull her in tighter.

"You're so cute."

"Just cute?" The words were a little strained, and she shook the hair out of her eyes so she could see him. The tendon in his neck, the one close to the scar, was visible because his jaw was clenched, and Elle leaned in and bit it gently. Spencer let out a quiet groan in response. She could feel his erection now, pressed tight against the inside of her thigh.

"My handsome man..."

"I love you." It had taken him a while to get used to it, realizing that the hurts of the past had largely scarred over, and that moving on with his life diminished nothing that had come before. In the Now, there was nowhere he wanted to be except right where he was.

"Think we can manage it right here?" Because now Elle was too horny to get up, trying to undo Spencer's belt while simultaneously grinding against his hard-on. And he couldn't decide if he wanted to make her stop or not, so he compromised by hauling her in for a few seconds, then letting go so she could lift up. He watched her slip out of the pajama bottoms as he unbuckled his belt. Maybe he should start taking it off when he came home. Elle gave him a look over her shoulder, and he gave her a smile that was like trying to look at the sun.

"I love you. Every day."

She was still wearing her pajama top when she started settling on him, guiding him into her by flesh-memory. In a couple of months, she'd be too big to face him, so she was savoring being able to watch his expression now. He was kissing her neck, feeling the goosebumps on her shoulders through the lightweight fabric.

She started to move, and his breathing quickened as he watched her face. Her eyes were half-closed, that sleepy expression she sometimes got during sex, but he could feel the tension in her muscles. He knew that people said 'I love you' all the time, and sometimes he thought they said it too often. Was it egotistical to think that they were different? Looking at her right now, he thought not.

Elle was trying not to rush it, but the feeling of him inside her was like the first time all over again. Her hands were in his hair, and she liked him messy, not quite so put-together. That was for her, for them. She could feel everything tightening down delightfully, and her vision was narrowing in conjunction. He was helping her, his hands and his hips assisting the rhythm. He'd mended her past, then given her a future she hadn't even been thinking of until he'd found her again.

He felt it when she came, the clench of her cunt muscles, and his left hand tightened on her shoulder when he finished. She was resting her forehead on his shoulder, felt him stroke a path down her back, and she trembled through the aftershocks. He kissed her earlobe, and she put her arms around his neck. Just to sit like this for a minute, their bodies still joined even though she could feel him softening, was part of it. It had never fully been about sex to begin with, although the attraction had sprung up without their permission at first. Elle's mouth brushed Spencer's forehead.

"Let's go to bed and do that again," she said, and he laughed and pinched her on the ass, making her swat his hand away. "If I can make my legs hold me up, I'll see what I can do."

They disentangled after another few minutes of cuddling, and Spencer left his pants behind with the belt still in the loops. Next time, he'd definitely have taken the thing off beforehand.