Please read authors note! =)

A/N I do not own Criminal Minds, I am only borrowing them. This is just a naughty story that my Muse has been itching to write. Though this story will mainly deal with the pursuit of a woman by two men, there will be sexual adult situations involving main characters together. I will always be respectful in my writing, though I realize this might be a little naughtier (I'm not intending for crazy, but hopefully something with a little more sizzle and yes there will be a plot) then what people might normally like to read, so if this is not your thing – for I do not wish to offend, please do not read. (Perhaps check out one of my other stories instead or many of the other amazing works on this site!)

Obviously this story will be slightly AU. This is really just for fun, and I can't wait to see where it goes. I have plenty of ideas, though if anyone wants to suggest anything that they would like to read, please feel free to leave me a PM or something in the Review section, and I'll gladly see what I can do. (If you're shy, a guest review will work too!) Thanks for reading!

Story Warning: Sexual Situations & Coarse Language

Please Enjoy!

Two Wolves and a Lady

Prologue:

Exuding a deceptively casual persona, the man – whose eyes never stopped scanning the room for disturbances, swirled the whiskey around in the tumbler before taking a rather large swig.

His black suit jacket was off and neatly folded over the back of his stool – the seat that allowed him the best view of the room. Most of the team had slowly disappeared as the night wore on, not that it mattered considering the reason he came out tonight was standing across the room ordering another drink.

Selfishly he hadn't offered to get it for her, desperately wanting to watch the sway of her perfectly round ass walk away. The tight grey pencil skirt with the sparse blue and green pattern was like a second skin on her. It didn't help that this skirt had a slit on the side, giving him the prefect peek-a-boo of her knee cap and upper leg while she walked – causing him to wonder if she wore a garter belt with those stockings.

Glancing quickly towards the dance floor, which was still jammed packed with people, it only took but a moment to spot the darker man as he grooved the night away with four other women. Each of the ladies danced around him like a compass and he could only shake his head at how easy the other man had made it for him.

You shouldn't leave something as precious as Penelope Garcia alone for too long, after all. Swigging the rest of his drink he got up and headed towards his prize.

He couldn't help the smirk that graced the corner of his lips as he watched her twirl a golden lock of hair around her perfectly manicured fingers. She had forgone the typical bright color polish and had done a simple French tip, something he had to admit, drove him crazy.

Garcia was standing with her legs crossed in those bright pink, peep toed heels – the cute ones with the buckle around her ankle, elbows resting on the high counter – making her ass arch out as she leaned forward. Aaron felt the stirrings of arousal when the vision of her – with her head pressed face down into the mattress, his fingers digging into her hips as he drove into her wet heat from behind – flashed in his mind.

Of course, not only was she completely oblivious to the affects her sensuality was causing her boss, but also the table of men behind her. The curvaceous blonde Goddess making the stoic alpha male growl as he watched one of the men from the rowdy group, get up and sidle along next to her.

Taking an empty bar stool – two seats down, with her back facing him – Aaron's dark brooding eyes, watched intently.

He knew Penelope was more than capable of taking care of herself, but tonight – having been her birthday celebration, she had allowed herself the luxury of drinking more than she normally would. Usually the Mother Hen of the group, her teammates had watched in amusement as she joked and flitted around their table – the consummate life of the party. Now however, in the company of a drunk stranger, he avidly scrutinized her body language – stalking the pair like a wolf.

The music in the club was loud, though the snippets of their conversation he could hear, had him rolling in his eyes in pity – the poor young man didn't have a clue how to seduce the BAU's 'Tech Kitten'. He figured it wouldn't be long, for the idiot to fuck up.

Having ordered another whiskey – he sat, sipping the strong beverage…and waited.

The moment the other man reached out a hand, tucking a golden curl behind her ear – Aaron's eyes narrowed. When the man took a step closer, invading her personal space, trapping her between the stool and bar counter – his body tensed. Though once the man grabbed her hip, fingers clenching above the swell of her ass – he pounced.

"Come on…Sugar Tits!" the drunkard slurred as he ogled her chest. "Let's take this back to my place."

"She can't," his gruff, booming voice catching the pair by surprise – enabling him to grip the younger man's wrist – applying the right amount of pressure for him to tear his arm away from her hip. Aaron, then slid his arm firmly around her waist, her body tensing at first – only to relax as he pulled her closer to him. "Since she's with me."

"Hotch!" Penelope stared at her boss, bright hazel eyes confused behind those pink feminine frames.

"What kind of name is that," the idiot snickered besides them.

"Ner!" she giggled, hand coming up to delicately pat Aaron's chest. "It's Hotch-Ner!" tossing a glare at the other man.

"You can go," taking Penelope's fruity drink, with the pink umbrella she always insisted on having – he took a sip, eyes narrowing as he peered over the martini glass.

"It's his last name!" she exclaimed suddenly, needing to clarify – giggling, when neither man said anything – only to snatch her drink back, and quickly finish it off.

Hotch wasn't the type of man who chuckled – smirking instead at the alluring woman next to him. Having known Garcia for years, he knew she wasn't drunk – just adorably tipsy.

"Thanks for keeping her company," his gesture of kindness was insincere, and they all knew it. Scowling at the agents, the man gave up and finally walked away – though the threat was gone, Hotch didn't move.

Tucking her closer to him, his thumb gently rubbed circles against her hip – he watched her eyes widen and her cheeks bloom that familiar rosy hue.

"He's gone now," looking up at him, a coy smile gracing those plump glossy lips.

"So?" his flippant response, had her arching a brow – shocked at his boldness – but perhaps, intrigued?

"Aaron," came her breathy response.

He leaned forward, lips barely touching her ear. "I want to dance," clutching her hip – molding the soft flesh. "With you."

She pulled back, shaking her head. "Oh, I don't-…" something in his eyes stopped her – he wasn't asking.

Taking a step back, giving her mind a moment to race with doubt – waiting for that naughty, brazen Goddess of hers to appear. He watched as she bit her lip, hesitating – eyes darting wildly across the room until they landed on the darker man – still dancing underneath the flashing lights. Something, flashed across her face – lust, longing…love – though she quickly blinked it away and he allowed his body to tingle with anticipation, when she finally smiled and reached for his hand.

Leading her through the crowd of dancing bodies, he found a spot off to the side. Wringing her hands as she stood in front of him – watching everyone else move around them. He had seen her perform in a few plays, oozing an abundance of confidence – he knew she could damn well dance, he was certain of it.

Grabbing her arm, he quickly twirled her so her back was to his front – entwining his hands with one of hers, resting his arm across her waist, pushing her flush with his groin. She froze and he growled, sliding his other hand down her side he gripped her hip and started moving – setting a rhythm that forced her to grind against him.

She awkwardly fumbled for a few moments, until his hand – wrapped around her front, glided further up her blouse until it rested below her breasts – gently rubbing his thumb beneath the cups of her bra, coaxing her to relax.

By the time the next song came on – she was dancing.

Walking off the dance floor, he avoided the women who were grinning at him – silently inviting him over, to order another beer instead. Making it back to their table he plopped down on the stool, confused to find it empty, even though Hotch's coat and Garcia's purse were still there.

Scanning the bar, he didn't see them. Taking a thick napkin off the table, he patted down his face – he wouldn't admit it, but the reason he danced was because he enjoyed knowing she was there. Realizing she had missed his little birthday gift to her – she loved to watch, as much as he loved her watching – he huffed in disappointment. He had worked up quite a sweat keeping up with those four ladies – his sore ears still ringing from their obnoxious squealing.

He was getting too old for this shit.

Taking a huge swig of the bitter brew, he scanned the room again. Not spotting them near the bar, or other tables – knowing both of them never danced, he started to worry. Chasing down criminals for a living, his mind began to imagine all sorts of horrible scenarios.

That is, until a flash of hot pink caught his attention.

Standing up, he willed the crowd to part – waiting to catch another glimpse of that blouse. The moment he did, he almost swallowed his tongue.

Shocked, he could only stare.

And stare some more, frozen to the spot.

Growling, he slammed his drink down.

What…the…fuck!

Out in the middle of the dance floor, he watched in horror as his boss grinded against…his Baby Girl.

Penelope Miss Oh-I-can't-dance Garcia, was rolling those thick hips and perky round ass into his groin – arm flung back around his neck, eyes closed – completely keeping rhythm. That tight, hot pink blouse, with the plunging neckline – flaunting those large impressive tits, as they bounced to the music. Though that image had his blood rushing to his member, flaring it to life with that familiar painful arousal he only had when he was around her – it was Hotch who had him seething.

One hand gripping her hip, underneath her blouse – yet it was his other hand that Derek was going to rip off, as he watched him trail it up and down her side – from the soft curve of her waist to the side of her breast.

Derek's body was thrumming with tension – as he watched Aaron leisurely lift his face away from the crook of her neck, the sly little smirk causing his jaw to tick. An alpha male knew when he was being challenged – his boss pawing his mate…now that, was a threat.

Catching each others eyes from across the room – he was going to shoot the fucker when he winked.

Though that was all it took to make him charge back to the dance floor.

Oh, Garcie what did you do?

Her head was spinning, and even though her eyes were closed – the sunlight from her open window was making her nauseous.

She stretched her arms above her head, trying to work the kinks out of her body. And boy, was it sore, it practically ached!

The remnants of her dream floated around her mind in hazy pieces – fusing her cheeks with a blush. Mustering up energy she finally sat up, shocked to discover her bare chest – the cool air of her apartment, pebbling her nipples. Going to reach for her glasses on the nightstand, she heard a grunt.

A very manly grunt. Right next to her. Holding her breath, she had yet to look.

Oh Microsoft! You brought a stranger home, Garcie!

Finally looking over, she spotted a leg – bent, and sticking out from underneath her polka dotted comforter. Scanning the rest of the bed, to find his head underneath her fuzzy purple pillow – leaning closer, she was about to gently remove it, when a loud crunch from her doorway startled her.

Spinning around – she nearly screamed. Her vision was blurry, but there was no mistaking her best friend – her very naked, very aroused, Hot Stuff.

Taking another bite out of the apple, he smirked. "Mornin', Baby Girl!"

Her brain had yet to recover the use of speech – probably because her tongue was still drooling over the sight of his sculpted abs, strong lean thighs and…that erection.

How the hell did he walk around with that thing?

Feeling movement next to her, she yelped in surprise. Jumping out of bed, she tried to stand – only to trip over a pair of jeans and tumble to the floor.

"Oh, Princess!" Derek's husky voice floated over to her, eyes flashing with – lust…nostrils flaring as he devoured her with his eyes – only then did she remember she was naked.

Screaming, she yanked on her comforter – forgetting the other man was wrapped around it. Standing she frantically pulled and tugged, yanking once more only for the man to move suddenly – sending her flying back down with the colorful material.

Rolling around underneath the blanket, until she had it wrapped around her, she sat back up – only to sputter when she caught sight of her stockings, firmly tied around her headboard.

"You need…to go!" she stammered. He had taken a few steps towards her, and she was ashamed that she couldn't tear her eyes off his member – the thick shaft swaying like a palm tree in the wind. "Put on clothes first…and then go…please!"

Derek chuckled. "What about Hotch?"

"What?" she panted. She hadn't heard her phone ring – when did they get a case?

"Hello, Garcia," his gruff voice called to her.

She snapped her eyes closed, body flushing from hot too cold in an instant.

Looking back towards her bed, she discovered her boss – propped up on his elbow as he leaned over her bed, staring down at her.

He too, was only wearing a smirk.

Oh, was she in trouble.

To be continued…