Author's Note: Here's to hoping that you all have an absolutely fantastic Valentine's Day! If only we could all be as perfect as Hotch and Emily, right? If only. Enjoy! :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters, or the lyrics to "Hella Good." They belong to CBS and No Doubt, respectively.
Running a hand through his disheveled hair, Hotch threw down his briefcase on the plain white hotel bed and let out a sigh. He had never been so reluctant to leave Quantico for a case. It looked like it was going to be a quick one; the team was hoping to be back by the end of the week, but for Hotch, that was an unfortunate reality.
He would be missing Valentine's Day.
He would be missing Emily.
Opening up his briefcase for the first time that afternoon as he, too, plopped down on the bed, Hotch couldn't suppress the surprised smile that spread across his lips at the sight before him. There, amidst the neatly organized array of case files, was a scattering of pink and red confetti. The tiny paper pieces were cut into the shapes of hearts, and Hotch knew of only one woman who would have sweetly arranged such a display.
Smiling even wider, Hotch fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed her number from memory.
A long second passed before she answered. "Hello?"
"What're you wearing?"
Hundreds of miles away, back in Washington, Emily felt a certain warmth begin to spread through her body at his words. She let out a husky laugh that never failed to set his nerve endings on fire. "Nothing," she teased playfully.
"Nothing?" he repeated, his voice lowering dangerously. Immediately, the image of Emily naked and spread out underneath him came to mind, and it took all of his strength to suppress a moan. "You just so happened to be roaming around the house naked?" he said a tad bit breathlessly.
Again, Emily laughed, but for a different reason this time. "You wish. No, sadly, I'm out running errands right now, so no phone shenanigans for you."
Hotch groaned playfully. "But I miss you so much," he practically whined.
"As do I," Emily sighed. "Hopefully this case won't take too long and you can come back home within the week."
"We hope to be back by Sunday."
"But -"
"That's too far away," Hotch cut in. He nodded, laying back against the bed in the process. "I know."
"Well…look at it this way; when you get home, I'll have a surprise for you," Emily said appealingly, her voice husky once more.
"A surprise, huh? You mean, a surprise better than the heart-shaped confetti in my briefcase? Which is cute, by the way."
"Why, thank you. I'm glad you like it. I thought you'd want a little something to brighten your day."
"And you thought correctly." He paused, twirling a single piece of confetti between two fingers. "I suppose you won't give me a little hint as to what my actual surprise is?" he asked, smiling to himself.
"Oh, I'm sure you can guess."
That drew out a grin from Hotch. "Then I can't wait." A beat passed. "So, when do you get home from your errand-running?"
"Mmmm…an hour, probably. Give me that much time and then call me back," she said, her skin seemingly thrumming as she closed her eyes; she could practically feel his hands on her, bringing her that much closer to paradise.
"One hour," Hotch echoed. "I'll talk to you then."
~.~.~
Exactly fifty-nine minutes later, Emily's phone rang. When she answered, however, it was not nearly what Hotch expected.
"Are you playing music in the background?"
His answer came in the form of belted song lyrics.
"The waves keep on crashing on me for some reason
But your love keeps on coming like a thunderbolt
Come here a little closer
'Cause I wanna see you, baby, real close up…"
Hotch chuckled to himself. "Em, baby, are you really listening to -"
"You've got me feeling hella good
So let's just keep on dancing
You hold me like you should
So I'm gonna keep on dancing…"
As he listened to her singing over the line, Hotch felt himself growing hotter by the second. God, he missed her. He had only just left the previous night and already he couldn't stand to be away from her. Especially when every single thing she did made him wish he could haul her over his shoulder, carry her to bed, and make love to her until the early morning light peeked through their blinds.
If only.
He was in the middle of an especially nice daydream when Emily's breathless voice drew him back to reality. "Hey," she greeted, laughing a little.
"Hi," Hotch grinned, taking off his jacket and letting it drape over the back of one of the hotel chairs. He had better get comfortable; and so had she, because this was going to be one long phone call. "Is "Hella Good" on repeat on your iPod?" he asked suspiciously, his tone light and amused.
She laughed even louder. "You got me there. I was in the mood for a little dancing; I can't help myself sometimes," she said teasingly.
"Dancing?" Hotch asked, his interest piqued.
"Yes, dancing," Emily repeated in confirmation. A beat of silence passed. "Oh yeah…and I'm naked, too."
Hotch felt the air whoosh out of his lungs instantaneously. He pictured her in their bedroom, swaying her hips to and fro; all black hair, and pale skin, and red lips. "Good God," he said under his breath. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"
"Now why would I do that?" she retorted. Once again, she sang out.
"Your performance deserving a standing ovation
And who would have thought it'd be the two of us
So don't wake me if I'm dreaming
'Cause I'm in the mood come on and give it up…"
Hotch licked his suddenly dry lips, an almost feral look glinting in his eyes as he undid the buttons of his shirt. "Get on the bed, Emily," he said lowly.
Turning down the music only slightly, Emily's grip on her phone tightened and she smiled seductively. "Or what?" she countered saucily. "You'll spank me?"
"Don't push your luck; just because I'm not with you right now doesn't mean I won't punish you when I get home."
"Sunday couldn't come quicker," was all Emily had for a response.
"I agree. Are you on our bed?" Hotch asked, his body thrumming with the need for release. He closed his eyes as Emily hummed in response. "Tell me how you feel."
Slowly, ever so slowly, Emily let one of her hands roam across her chest, over her ripened breasts and down to her navel, her feather light touch causing goosebumps to erupt on her skin. For one split second, she was able to pretend that it was him caressing her skin, and in that moment, she felt her heartbeat quicken. "Soft," she answered. "Warm..." She discretely let a finger slip down between her thighs, between her steamy folds. "Wet. Ready."
Hotch groaned, any restraint he may have had slipping away as he took his now rock hard erection in his hands and pumped himself. He longed for Emily's touch; but he would have to wait. If he could, that is. "Emily Hotchner, are you playing with yourself?" he asked, his voice coming out in a growl instead.
Emily expertly rolled her sensitized skin between her fingers, her breath beginning to come out in pants at the sensation rippling across her body. "Maybe," she answered vaguely.
"'Maybe'?" Hotch shut his eyes tightly as he ran a finger over his weeping tip and spread the moisture around the base of his cock. "I bet you look gorgeous, spread out against our sheets...wrapped up in maroon-colored silk and just begging for my touch." He felt himself twitch at the beautiful mental image. "God, I want to taste you," he murmured darkly.
Emily licked her lips, then moaned. "So do I," she breathed, trapping her clit between two long, slender fingers and giving it a good rub. Immediately, she felt herself become even wetter - which she hadn't thought was possible.
"Taste yourself."
A gasp was torn from the back of Emily's throat. He only had to tell her once; trailing a finger from her soaking folds up to her lips, Emily's eyes fluttered closed as she sucked on the digit. "Mmmmm..."
"Tell me how you taste," Hotch commanded, his voice rough and raspy. Already, he felt himself approaching that long coveted edge. "Tell me, Emily."
"Sweet," she panted. "Sweet, like strawberries and cream."
That was all it took for Hotch to lose all self-control. "Get on Skype," he growled.
"What?"
"Get on Skype," he repeated tensely. "I have to see you right now or I'll surely explode."
Somehow thinking through the fog of lust clouding her mind, Emily managed a saucy retort. "Oh, honey...you're going to explode either way."
~.~.~
When the doorbell rang, Emily was ready. The past week had been the longest seven days of her life; but now, he was home.
Striding gracefully over to their front door, Emily glanced through the peephole to make sure it was him...
...and then, she swung the door open to let him in.
The moment he saw what she was wearing, Hotch's reaction was instantaneous. He barely managed to stumble through the door and drop his briefcase to the floor before she was in his arms. Shutting the door with a kick, Hotch lifted Emily high up on his hip, one hand cupping her ass in order to keep her up straight. "I've missed you so fucking much," he groaned into the crook of her neck.
"Hello to you, too, Aaron," she breathed, laughing huskily. "You like what you see?"
He silenced her with a bruising, fiery kiss. Their lips danced together in a flurry of passion and long denied desire, their tongues swiping against each other in the process. "You look like an angel," he said in response, his dark eyes wild with lust.
And she did, she really did. Her sweet, supplely curved body was barely covered in a shell pink mesh and lace babydoll nightie, and her hair, curled loosely, tumbled off her shoulders in smooth waves that Hotch just couldn't keep his fingers out of. Her skin was practically luminescent in the dim lighting of their house, and oh, the perfumed scent of her skin...
It was enough to send Hotch into sensory overdrive.
He threw her down onto the bed upon entering their bedroom, and immediately set to work undressing himself before Emily's hungry gaze. He was so unwaveringly focused on the task at hand - the faster you undress, the sooner you get to feel Emily gloriously stretched around you, he told himself - that he didn't realize what Emily was doing. That is, until she let out a breathless sigh.
Hotch's hands stilled.
She was playing with herself. The minx.
"Get your hand away from there."
Emily pouted prettily. "But, Aaron, I'm so close."
"That's my job," he rumbled possessively, finally climbing on the bed and covering her body with his. Pinning her hands above her head, then briefly sucking on the fingers that had been bringing her closer to the precipice of ecstasy, Hotch fused their mouths together in yet another searing kiss.
And then, without any warning whatsoever, he peeled her barely-there lace panties off of her svelte frame and made them one in a single, blissfully carnal thrust.
"Oh," Emily gasped. It had been too long since they had done this; too long since they'd had the chance to forget about the world outside and just lose themselves in each others' embrace. She felt so deliciously full...and he hadn't even started moving yet.
At this rate, it seemed as if Hotch was planning to simply stay there, deep inside her silken passage, without any movement at all, because he chose that very moment to fist a hand into the thin mesh and lace that was still adorning her body.
"This is new," he noted, interest coloring his warm tone.
"It is," she responded, her eyes fluttering closed as his naughty hands crept beneath the fabric. "I bought it a couple days ago; you know, when you called and I was running errands? Well...let's just say I wasn't buying milk, bread, and eggs."
"Hmmm..." Still lodged in her depths, Hotch latched onto Emily's breast and brought the nipple to a hard, dusky rose peak. "What else did you get while you were 'running errands'?" Slowly, ever so slowly, he began to move.
Her nerve endings on fire as his pace gradually quickened, it took Emily a good minute before she was able to formulate a coherent response. "Well, there is one thing...I really don't know what compelled me to buy it, but..." Her voice trailed away.
Hotch peppered kisses on her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids, the underside of her jaw. "What is it?" he asked, a small, handsome smile hinting at his lips as Emily's breathing became increasingly shallow.
Holding his earlobe hostage between her teeth, she licked along the shell before answering. "Check the bottom bedside drawer." And hurry, because I'm about to explode.
Now pounding into her and eliciting from her lips a dizzying array of whimpers and cries, Hotch rolled over so that Emily was seated above him. Blindly reaching for the drawer with one hand, he kept pistoning his hips forward...
...until he saw just what it was that Emily had bought.
Emily actually screamed when Hotch pulled out of her. "No," she groaned, her eyes unfocused and wild. "What are you -"
"We could have a lot of fun with this," Hotch mused, somehow exercising the restraint that was necessary to prevent from coming apart completely.
There, in his hands, was a short leather whip.
"You're torturing me, Aaron," Emily wailed. All she needed was one more stroke...Heaven was just that close.
Hotch actually laughs at that. "I told you I'd punish you," he teased, alluding to their previous phone conversation. "Now, thanks to you, I have the perfect way to do it." His teeth grazing her ear now, he whispered, "Get on your hands and knees."
And, a dangerously sinful excitement rippling through her, Emily did just that.
~.~.~
"Christ, Aaron," Emily bit out.
"You're so beautiful," Hotch said, shaking his head in awe as he entered her quivering body from behind. "And I missed you so much," he said again, holding her as close to him as possible. Gradually, he recommenced his thrusting, the whip a mere inch or two from his grasp. He was reaching around her slim waist to thumb her clit when she surprised him with a move of her own. Reaching behind her as he slowed his thrusts in curious anticipation, Emily grinned sinfully as she gently cupped his balls in one silken soft palm, the action causing him to take in a sharp breath.
"Emily," he groaned, her short nails dancing along his ultra-sensitized skin. "What are you -"
"I missed you, too, you know," she sighed, sinking back on his still rock hard erection. "Every single night, I'd close your eyes and wish you were lying beside me. If I concentrated hard enough, I could feel your hands on my skin, your lips on mine..." She rolled her knuckles against his stretched, velvet-soft skin.
"Emily, I swear, I'm about to -"
She cut him off with a kiss. "Come on, Aaron," she goaded, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Let go of control for once."
Hotch was silent for a second, as if contemplating it...but then, it was his turn to smile darkly. "No," he said simply.
A slap resounded in the room, shortly followed by an impassioned gasp. "Did you just -"
Hotch fingered the straps of the whip, then kissed her once more. "And if I did?"
In a flash, Emily had maneuvered out of their current position and was moving to straddle him when Hotch turned so that she was flat on her back. "Not so fast," he grinned.
Emily let out a brief laugh. "I love you."
"Mmmm, I love you, too. But that's not going to save you this time."
"What -"
And before she could even finish a response, her legs were being draped around Hotch's shoulders, spreading her wide open. Just for him.
He tapped her bundle of nerves with the base of the leather whip, entranced at the way Emily's muscles rippled in result. It was obvious that she was close; the quivering in her perfectly toned stomach was evidence enough of that. "Tell me what you want, sweetheart."
"You," she said immediately, not a shade of doubt in her voice.
Slowly, he pushed into her searing hot core. "Like this?"
"Yes," she panted, tired of his teasing. "Aaron...make love to me."
Hotch smiled, then dropped the whip to the floor. They wouldn't be needing it any longer; at least, they wouldn't that night. "Yes, ma'am."
In a matter of seconds, he had her at the point of no return. And with one sure stroke and one last kiss, Emily came apart in his arms with a scream that had Hotch that much closer to his slice of paradise. "Come on," she panted in his ear. "Come on, Aaron. Let go."
Finally, with the roar of a man possessed, Hotch tumbled over the edge as well, spilling everything he had deep into Emily's sweet, soft body.
"Emily," he breathed. "Jesus Christ."
She smiled up at him tiredly. "Well, Mr. Hotchner, you wore me out."
He managed a handsome grin of his own. "The same can be said for me, Mrs. Hotchner." He buried his face in her hair and enveloped her still trembling frame in a warm embrace. "I'm glad I'm home."
"Mmmm, so am I. So is Jack. He's at his friend's house, but I called him before you got here and told him you were coming home soon. He immediately wanted to leave to see you."
"Well, what can I say? That's my boy."
Emily closed her eyes contentedly. "Speaking of your boy, Michael missed his daddy, too."
"Michael," Hotch crooned, thinking of their sweet baby son. "I see you finally got him to sleep."
"I did," Emily said proudly; it had been quite the feat. "Though I probably woke him up with that scream of mine."
"I'll take the blame for that one," Hotch quipped.
"As you should." Yawning, Emily nestled further into his embrace. "Oh, before I forget...I made brownies this morning. Don't ask why; I just felt in the need for some sweetness. They're heart-shaped, and if you get to them before Mr. Jack does, they're all yours."
"You trying to fatten me up, Em?" Hotch laughed.
"Maybe, maybe not. But the way I look at it is this: what's Valentine's Day without a little sugar?"
"And spice," he winked. "Sugar and spice."
"Touché." Humming to herself, she lazily raked her fingers through her husband's disheveled hair. "I love you," she said again.
They kissed, softly and tenderly this time. "I love you more."
"Oh, I beg to differ."
Hotch chuckled. "Happy belated Valentine's Day, sweetheart."
"You, too, honey. You, too."
And just like that, they fell into a deep, blissfully exhausted slumber.
THE END.
Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate it. Please leave me a review or two; no matter short or long, signed or anonymous, they are the best gifts I could ever receive. And again, have a beautiful Valentine's Day. :)