Hi everyone, I'm posting this a day early as I might be busy tomorrow. But Happy Valentine's Day everyone. I hope you are able to spend it with your loved ones.
And a special Happy Valentine's Day to you, Collinda. Lots and lots of love and hugs. I do hope you enjoy this chapter.
HRGHfan35's prompts were Nils Lofgren's Valentine ad David Gray's This Year's Love. Please check out these songs on Youtube if you are interested.
Thanks saturdayslump for betaing, you are the best, as always!
Friday evening – Valentine's Day
Hotch raised his hand and knocked on the door before him. His distorted reflection stared back at him from the bright gold numbering. He took a deep breath and tried to relax his facial muscles. He looked even more grim than usual. Not a look he wanted to portray tonight. Sure, he knew it wasn't a date, but he wanted to have a pleasant dinner with Emily, his colleague. After her extremely suggestive comment earlier, he had had to remind himself a number of times that Emily was his subordinate and team member. She was not someone he could allow himself to be attracted to. Dinner was simply going to be a meal between two colleagues who just happened to be friends. That's all.
But then Emily opened the door and every sensible, rational, sane thought that he might once have had disappeared.
She stood before him, a breathtaking vision of utter delight in red. The short chiffon dress left her shoulders bare while the material gathered over her bodice, showing a hint of cleavage before falling in graceful folds over her hips and ending at the tops of her knees. She had pulled her hair up into a simple knot, allowing wisps of curls to frame the delicate bone structure of her face. She looked incredible.
"Hotch?" Surfacing from the fog of lust that had apparently descended from nowhere – Hotch placed the blame squarely on that basket of condoms – he finally focused at his subordinate, who had a quizzical look on her face. "Are you all right?"
"Err... yes, I'm fine." Pull yourself together, for God's sake. "You look nice." Nice? That was the best you could come up with? Lame doesn't even cover how pitiful that is. She looks much better than just "nice" you moron.
But Emily didn't appear to notice his uninspired-to-the-point-of pathetic vocabulary. "Thank you." She flashed him a grin that lit up her eyes and he felt his heart thump loudly in his chest. What the hell was wrong with him? This was Emily. "You look rather dashing yourself." She gestured towards him.
Hotch automatically glanced down at his beige suit he had decided to wear for a change, which he had simply teamed with a green shirt and dark brown loafers. "Uh... thanks," he mumbled. He suppressed the urge to shift his feet awkwardly. Get a hold of yourself you freaking idiot. "I thought I'd go without a tie, but now I'm feeling slightly under-dressed." Emily would have been able to walk into the most prestigious restaurant in town, no questions asked. He, on the other hand, with the open-necked shirt - ha, so much for trying to look informal - and the five-year-old suit would probably be turned away with a snobby sneer.
Emily winked at him. "Trust me, you have way more items of clothing on than I do. And that includes my earrings." Speechless, he automatically stepped back when she stepped forward before turning around to close and lock her apartment door. "Shall we go?"
Hotch nodded. He followed her down the stairs, unable to prevent his eyes from focusing on her gently swaying hips. What had she meant by the wink when she said he had more clothes on than her? Surely she was wearing underwear. Wasn't she? Not that it mattered, really. He was sure his mind was going to be obsessing about the question for the rest of the evening. He'd be lucky to make it back to Emily's apartment without turning into a incoherent, babbling mess.
Dinner was looking more and more like a really bad idea. With potential career-ending consequences. But as he felt his body tighten at the flash of bare thigh as she got into the SUV, came the unbidden thought that a night with Emily Prentiss would be well worth the risk.
"Peter." A smile broke out on Hotch's face when he saw his friend walk up to them.
"Aaron!" The man with the clean-shaven head dressed in an expensive black suit gave Hotch an enthusiastic hug. "How long has it been since I saw you last?"
"A few months." Hotch turned to take Emily's arm and drew her forward. "Peter, this is a friend of mine, Emily."
Peter held out his hand and Emily took it. "Lovely meeting you, Emily."
"You're Australian?"
"The accent gave me away, huh?" The restaurateur turned to Aaron. "So, you never told me you were seeing someone." As he spoke he led them both into the restaurant and towards a table in the corner.
"Emily and I work together, we're not...dating." Hotch held out Emily's chair for her and waited for her to be seated before seating himself.
Peter arched his eyebrows. "Well, you have way more self-control than I ever would have, mate." He flashed Emily a charming smile. "So how about coming in here for a meal when the restaurant's closed to the public? I make a really good wagyu steak on the barbie."
"Team it with a bottle of your best Australian cabernet sauvignon and I'm there." Emily returned Peter's smile and Hotch felt a surge of annoyance. What the hell was that? Was he jealous of his friend?
He cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt your little tete-a-tete, but I'm starving so maybe you can arrange your date later?" If it were up to him – never. Sure, Peter was good with knives, but Hotch was better in hand-to-hand combat. He blinked. What was happening to him? Was he under some kind of Valentine's Day spell? First he couldn't stop thinking of Emily, then he couldn't stop imagining her naked and in his bed, and now he was jealous. Him, Aaron Hotchner, who prided himself in his ability to rise above base emotions to which the rest of the human race was susceptible. Lust and jealousy were not emotions he ever thought he would allow himself to experience. And never for a subordinate.
"Sorry," apologised Peter, although his smile was anything but. He gave Hotch a thoughtful look, as if he could sense Hotch's jealousy. "Will you allow me to order for the both of you tonight?"
"What do you suggest?" asked Emily.
"Well, I suggest you both start with the Oysters Kilpatrick. The Cape Cod oysters are particularly good today, and they are lightly grilled with bacon bits and Worcestershire sauce and sprinkled with parsley. Served with lemon. For the main, I suggest the roasted kangaroo fillet served with a red wine jus and a sweet potato roulade. I would also highly recommend the salt-baked grouper with parmesan chips or the seafood udon noodles in XO sauce."
Hotch decided on the kangaroo while Emily chose the fish. After a few minutes chatting with them, Peter excused himself to welcome a newly arrived group of diners, but not before telling the brunette couple to enjoy the live band.
"So, how did you meet Peter?" asked Emily, looking curious as she took a sip of her Chardonnay.
"No in a conventional way. He actually ran into the back of my car about 18 months ago. After apologising for the incident, he invited me and Jack to his newly opened restaurant and here we are."
"Well, that's an interesting way to make friends with chefs. How come that never happens to me?" Emily rolled her eyes. "I'm just saying that though because I wish someone would cook for me. It sucks cooking for one person."
"I know what you mean. I'm really sick of eating spaghetti and fried rice."
Emily smiled. "Really? You cook fried rice? That's very multicultural of you."
Hotch grimaced. "I don't know about multicultural so much as I'm happy to cook something that Jack likes. He always likes the rice when I get Chinese takeout, so I thought I'd try doing it. It couldn't be that hard. I googled the recipe and went with the one that had the highest reviews. And at least he'll eat the few peas I add to the rice."
"Henry likes the salmon fish cakes I make for him. Maybe you can try them on Jack and see how he goes with them. They're pretty yummy if I may say so myself."
"That sounds good, thanks." Hotch smiled at his colleague. "So, what did you think about the latest scandal surrounding Senator Edwards?"
The evening sped by in a blur of gourmet food, fine wine and even better conversation. Hotch hadn't realised how much he missed just having someone to talk to outside work. Nor had he realised how much he and Emily had in common. They had similar views about many things – politics, religion and just plain old life in general. It occurred to him that not once, in the years he had known her, had he made an effort to learn more about her. Not just her likes and dislikes or what she did in her spare time, but who she really was. Emily was a complex woman, which was fine. No it was better than fine. It was good, because he was a complex man himself.
Their easy camaraderie over the meal had lulled Hotch into a false sense of security. He had thought he had managed to reign in his recalcitrant attraction to the beautiful brunette sitting across from him in the intimate setting of the small restaurant. And then for some unfathomable reason, he opened his mouth and asked her to dance. He had no idea why he did it. Perhaps he was just being nostalgic; it had been a long time since he had danced with a woman. He suspected though that it was because he wanted to know what she felt like in his arms, and this was the closest he was ever going to get to that experience. He watched her, somewhat anxiously, if he were to admit to himself, as she hesitated before answering. He was about to open his mouth to take back his question when she uttered a soft yes.
They swayed together to the music, his left hand holding her right and his other hand on her narrow waist while her left hand rested on his shoulder. Hotch was intensely aware of Emily. Every now and again, the heated scent of lilies floated into his nostrils, each breath ratcheting the arousal that burned in the base of his stomach. Her body was only a breath away from his and tendrils of her untamed hair brushed his cheek. He had to suppress the strong urge to press his mouth to the pulse in her throat. He wanted to taste her soft skin, feel the rapid flutter of her pulse under his tongue.
He wondered if she too was affected by his proximity. On one hand, he hoped she was; that he wasn't the only one feeling this intense attraction. On the other hand, he hoped she wasn't. He was afraid that he would find himself with no self-control at all if he saw even a hint of desire in her eyes. He didn't want the song to end. He didn't want to see what was going to be reflected in her eyes, in her face.
The song ended and another began. Hotch held his breath, but she made no move to leave him. Then the singer started to sing the words to the new song, and Emily drew back, her eyes meeting his.
This year's love had better last
Heaven knows it's high time
I've been waiting on my own, too long
When you hold me like you do
It feels so right, oh now
Start to forget how my heart gets torn
When that hurt gets thrown
Feelin' like I can't go on.
As Hotch listened to the lyrics of song he suddenly realised how right Emily felt in his arms, as if she had been made to fit in there. He watched as a corresponding awareness dawned in her eyes, and in that moment, everything changed. Never taking his eyes from hers, he placed the hand that he had been holding on his other shoulder, and cupping her cheek, brought her closer to him as he bent down towards her.
Their first kiss was the stuff of fairy tales. Everyone knew that only fools and dreamers believed in that perfect, happy-ever-after kiss, and God knows, she was not a dreamer. She didn't think she had ever been one even as a little girl. She had never dreamt of a prince coming to sweep her off her feet, rescue her from dragons then carry her off into the sunset. No, she was more than capable of looking after herself and fighting off dragons and other evil beings. And as she grew up, the concept of evil changed, but she never did.
So it was a shock for her now to experience this feeling of wanting to surrender her entire self to this man who was kissing her. His mouth was gentle yet demanding, coaxing yet not holding back in demonstrating his claim over her. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as his tongue toyed with hers, their breath mingling in the passion-heated air around them.
When you kiss me on that midnight street
Sweep me off my feet
Singin' ain't this life so sweet?
This year's love had better last
When they broke apart, they stood on the small dance floor staring at each other with identical stunned expressions. Emily bit her bottom lip. Never had she been so unsure in her life. If it had been any other man, they would be on the way back to her place now. But Hotch was not any other man. He was in fact the one man she had been looking for all her life. That kiss had not only aroused her senses in a way she had never experienced, but had stirred emotions within her that she didn't think were possible. Even more so since he was her supervisor. They couldn't stay, but she couldn't ask to leave either.
Thankfully, Hotch took the decision out of her hands. "Let's get out of here. We need to talk."
He settled the bill and they exchanged a few words with Peter, whom Emily saw was now looking at the both of them with both gentle amusement and speculation in equal measures. He gave Emily dessert wrapped in goose-shaped foil, telling her that it was a chocolate cake called the seven deadly sins. Emily smiled when she overheard him say to Hotch that he hoped the two of them would be able to indulge in at least one of the sins that night, even if it was only gluttony.
The drive to her apartment was fraught with tension and awkwardness. Although a trillion and one thoughts were spinning through her head, she had no idea what to say to break the charged silence. Hotch didn't seem inclined to speak either, so she kept quiet. Once or twice, she gave in to the urge to steal a glance at him, but each time his stony-faced expression dissuaded any attempt she might have made at light conversation.
After about 20 minutes, she was unable to bear the silence any longer, so she reached forward and switched on the radio. It was an easy listening channel, and seemed relatively harmless, if a little bland. The current love song ended and the DJ came back on air.
"This next song is Valentine by Nils Lofgren. This is for you listeners out there who, up to now, have been too afraid to let anyone else into your heart. Maybe there's someone out there waiting to be let in. So on this Valentine's Day, why not think about opening your heart and letting that special someone be your Valentine. It's just a small suggestion from someone who used to be in that position. Happy Valentine's Day, folks."
Today I'm thinkin' about the world we live in
All the love and hate that's floatin' around
All the times I felt so lost and helpless
You stood by me, you never let me down
Still I keep throwin' up these walls
Most of them I've built with stones
You tear 'em down and bridge the distance
Knowin' we ain't here to be alone
So let your blue heart open wide
Let's never leave our dreams behind
It would comfort and restore my pride
If you let me be your valentine
Our differences are part of life
Still love will pass the test of time
I want you every day and night
Girl, won't you be my valentine
Be my valentine
Be my valentine
Be my valentine
Emily stared blindly out the side window, her tears making the lights outside blur into a dizzying array of flashing colours. The song was describing her. She had worked so hard at keeping people out so that she could protect herself from hurt and pain that she had no idea how to let anyone in. Even the girls on the team, whom she loved, had been kept at a distance. And then there was Hotch, who had time and again told her that he was there for her. Always had been, and always would be.
She was tired of being alone. Of having no one she could open up to or lean on. Of waking up in the middle of the night gasping for breath, terror suffocating her, and finding no one there to comfort her. No one to tell her that everything was going to be all right. She didn't want that life any more. She wanted a life where she was happy, where she was half of a whole, where she could go to sleep without needing to have a night light on like a child afraid of the dark because he was lying there next to her, holding her close. Telling her that she never had to be afraid again, because he was there, that he would never let anything ever hurt her again. But it wasn't just any man she wanted. She wanted Hotch.
"Emily, we're here."
She blinked at the sound of his voice. Picking up the foil goose, she released her belt and got out of the SUV, leading the way up to her apartment. Once inside, she put the goose, her clutch and keys down on the side table, then slipped off her high-heeled sandals, all the while avoiding the dark eyes she could feel were staring intently at her. "I'll just go make us some coffee." She turned to walk to her kitchenette but Hotch caught her arm before she had taken more than a step.
"Emily." His voice was deep and compelling, making her stop in her tracks, but she didn't turn back to look at him. She was afraid that if she did, she would see the regret in his eyes, and that would break her heart. This was why fraternisation was frowned upon.
"Emily, please look at me." He took a step towards her and placing his fingers on her jaw, gently tilted her face up to his. Hotch looked intently at her, his face serious, but she thought she glimpsed a softness in his gaze. "These past few hours I've spent with you have been among the best few hours of my life. You've made me laugh out loud and you made me rack my brains to defend my opinions. But most of all...most of all," he repeated, his thumb smoothing over her cheek, "you've opened my eyes to the possibility of a life that I never thought I would have again. I know that if we decide to explore what it is that there might be between us, it's going to be difficult, not just for us, but for the team. Of course the rational, correct answer is that we forget about us." His eyes darkened and he reached down and took her cold hands in his large, warm ones. "I don't know about you, but I know no matter what I do, I won't be able to forget that kiss. Hell, I don't want to forget that kiss. I shouldn't say this, because I did love Haley and she was a wonderful woman, but that kiss," he smiled faintly, "that was the most incredible kiss I've ever had."
Emily's breath caught in her throat at the heat blazing unmistakeably from his dark chocolate orbs. His hands tightened around hers and his gaze lasered into her. "Emily, I don't pretend to know all the answers, and I realise I'm going too fast, but if you want this...if you want us, I will do everything in my power to be with you. Everything." The conviction in his voice left no room for doubt.
"Oh, Hotch," she whispered, tears pricking her eyes. He wanted to be with her. Hotch. Her Unit Chief. The man that, if she was completely honest with herself, had owned a tiny part of her heart for a very long time. She didn't even know when she had first fallen for him. All she knew was that she had pushed her feelings to one side, telling herself that nothing would ever happen between them.
Ever.
Which was why she now wondered if she was dreaming because it just all seemed too good to be true. But she couldn't be dreaming because she never had happy dreams. She swallowed, the thought that she might be spending the rest of her life with this incredible man overwhelming her power of speech.
"Emily, if I've somehow read this wrong, just tell me to go and I will. We don't ever have to talk about this again." His words were rushed and hurried, unlike his usual measured speech. The anxiety in his eyes finally freed her tongue. Her fingers clutched his in a vice grip.
"Hotch, no. You didn't read this wrong. I want to be with you. Very much. I just can't quite believe this is happening to be honest," she admitted softly. "One minute we're friends and co-workers and now, well, I don't know what we are yet."
He released her hands and settled his on her waist, drawing her close to him. His brown eyes were gentle as they observed her. "We don't have to define what we are yet, do we?"
Emily slid her hands up his chest and somewhat tentatively linked her fingers around his neck. "No, I guess not." Without the height of her heels, he loomed above her, making her feel small and delicate, a feeling she was unused to.
"This is probably rather forward of me, but...may I kiss you?"
She felt as if a light switch had suddenly been turned on within her. She smiled. "You may."
And just like before, their kiss was amazingly perfect. Ridiculously so. If she didn't know better, she would have sworn they had been kissing for years. He seemed to know every erogenous spot in her mouth, finding them with his tongue. As the kiss deepened, Emily's leaned up into his chest, shivering when he sucked on the tip of her tongue. She was pressed so closely to him that she could feel his shaft harden against her abdomen, making her body moisten in response. When Hotch pulled away abruptly she made a sound of protest.
She stared dazedly at his passion-darkened countenance. "Emily, if you want me to stop, tell me now. I can't promise I can stop if we go any further." His voice was low and intense.
There was no need to pause to consider. She wanted to be with him and she didn't want to wait. "Don't stop."
His answer was short and succinct. "Your bedroom. Now."
Hotch felt his pulse race when Emily slid the tab of the zipper down the side of her dress. She pushed the dress downwards and stepped out of it, revealing the sexiest set of underwear he could ever remember ever seeing. And this was on a woman standing before him in the flesh. The red lace bustier bra cupped her full breasts, leaving the top curves bare, while the lace boy cut panties hugged her narrow hips, exposing the curves of her buttocks and teasing him with a glimpse of the dusky shadow between her thighs. He swallowed hard, feeling his cock jerk hard in his slacks. It was all he could not to pick her up right there and then, throw her on the bed and cover her lithe body with his. She was unbelievably beautiful, and it had been a hell of a long time since his last sexual encounter. He just hoped he wouldn't disgrace himself before he had the chance to please her. Giving her pleasure was his paramount concern, his own needs be damned.
At that thought he quickly shrugged off his jacket, and while unbuttoning his shirt, toed off his loafers. To his surprise, Emily was suddenly next to him, fingers nimbly unbuckling his belt and sliding down the zipper of his slacks. Her quick inhalation of breath told him that she had just seen what he had felt – his boxer-covered shaft push through the opening of his slacks. Somewhat to his amusement, though not to his surprise, she recovered in an instant and stuck her thumbs into the side of his boxer-briefs, pushed both these and his pants off his hips. She only gave him time to step out of the puddle of clothing on the floor before sinking to her knees in front of him.
"Emily, what are you doing?" he asked, mouth going dry at her action.
"What do you think I'm doing?" she answered huskily. The combination of the clear arousal in her voice and the passion in her heavy-lidded eyes served to inflame him further and his cock strained towards her. A millisecond later, her cool hand was encircling his heavy member and he shuddered at the alien feeling of another person's touch on a part of him that had for so long known nothing but the rough skin of his own palm.
Emily was anything but rough. She ran her soft hand over him, appearing as if she was familiarising herself with every ridge and texture of his shaft and the sacs beneath. Hotch's nostrils flared when he saw, then felt, the tip of her tongue touch the very tip of him, dipping into the slit to collect the drop of liquid there. She tasted him, a faint smile appearing on her face, signalling her approval. He slowly let out a breath he hadn't even been aware he had been holding. She liked tasting him. Which meant she was probably going to...
Christ.
The first contact with the warm, silky recess of her mouth wiped away all thoughts and left only pure, uncontrollable lust. She sucked him in a lazy rhythm, her right hand holding the base of his penis and stroking him in time with her mouth, while her left rested on his hip. He choked back a gasp when she released him and ran her tongue wildly over and around the engorged head, somehow managing to hit all the pleasurable spots like the ball in a pinball machine. Back she went to the sucking, but with increased pressure and rhythm this time. Hotch's hands were now clenched into fists as he felt the base of his spine tighten. He muttered a curse as she let him out of her mouth again with a soft pop and this time, her tongue shifted between massaging the sensitive spot under the ridge of his penis and swiping at the almost continuous drops of pre-ejaculate he was emitting.
"Please, Emily," he breathed, eyes narrowed on the skilful action of her mouth as she plunged back down on his shaft, her moan of enjoyment vibrating through his cock and straight up his spine to the pleasure centre of his brain. This time the suction was concentrated and the pressure was hard. Just before his climax hit, he saw her lift her eyes upwards to him. The sight of the love and lust swirling within the midnight depths was the catalyst that tipped him over the edge. White-hot pleasure seared through his veins and every muscle in his body contracted as he shot his release into her waiting mouth. He had never experienced a more intense orgasm, panting hard, his knees almost buckling under the force of the climax that swept through him.
A few seconds later, she was back on her feet, leading him to her bed. He lay down gratefully on it, heart still thundering from his recent exertion. He watched her switch on the bedside lamp and turn off the overhead light before removing her bra and panties, the latter he observed with some regret. He would have to ask her to wear them again for him. Another time. But first, he had a favour to return.
"Come here," he said softly, voice still husky from the after-effects of passion.
Emily walked up to him, cocking her head to one side in curiosity when he took her hand and urged her onto the bed. "Sit on me," he ordered. She got onto the bed, blushing as she straddled his waist. "Higher." He scooted downwards on her bed.
"What do you mean...oh!" She emitted a loud gasp when he settled his face between her thighs and gave her a long lick, tasting her. The knowledge that she had been so aroused from fellating him that she was dripping with desire caused a surge of renewed passion in him.
"Sweet and salty. You taste so good, sweetheart," he murmured before going back to the passion-slicked treasure before him. Just as her hand had done on him earlier, his tongue traced all the nooks, crannies and folds between her legs, flicking at her swollen clit for some time before stiffening his tongue and thrusting part way into her. She emitted a cry of surprise, and Hotch looked up to see her grabbing blindly at the headboard to steady herself. He spent a few moments making love to her with his tongue before returning his attentions to her straining nub, running the tip of his tongue rapidly on it, thrumming it without pause. It didn't take long for her to reach her peak and she stiffened above him, arching her back as she softly keened out her orgasm, the rapid pulse fluttering under his tongue.
He didn't allow her any time to recover. In one swift move he had reversed their positions, coming over her and positioning himself between her legs. Emily obviously thought he was about to enter her and she started to lift her legs around him, but he stopped her with a touch.
"Not yet." With that, he bent down and captured a dusky nipple in his mouth, the tight bud tucked against the roof of his mouth as he suckled hard. Supporting himself with his right arm, he cupped her left breast in his palm, massaging it in a slightly rough motion, wanting the sensations there to contrast with the now feather-light licks on the areola of her right nipple. He smiled inwardly at the whimper that escaped her when he changed sides. While he lavished his oral attention on her breasts, his left hand slid down her body and into the humid delta between her thighs.
"H..Hotch," she moaned, looking up at him with eyes dilated with lust. Wisps of hair clung damply to her forehead and a flush coloured her fair skin from her chest to her cheeks. He thought she had never looked more beautiful. The possessive male in him felt a surge of satisfaction at the thought that from this moment on, no other man would ever see her like this. She was his, and only his. He breached the entrance to her body with one broad finger and she opened her mouth in a silent cry. She was tight, surprisingly so, and he quickly slowed down the movement of his finger. He bit back a groan as she tightened involuntarily around his digit, the feeling of her soft depths driving him back to a full erection in less than a space of a heartbeat. He fought the urge to sink his penis within her, wanting to draw another climax from her before he gave in to his own desire to claim her body with his own.
He slid his finger back and forth, and slowly, her body adjusted to him. Shifting himself further up over her, he covered her mouth with a passionate kiss, distracting her from the entry of a second finger. She arched her back, and moaned into his mouth, her hands clutching his shoulders as her body tensed at the discomfort.
"Easy. Easy," he soothed, murmuring against her lips as he curled his fingers within her, searching for that magical spot that would take away any memory of pain. When her thighs jerked involuntarily around him and she gasped, he knew he had located it. He alternated between rubbing the tips of his fingers on the spot and scissoring his fingers, the liquid from her arousal enabling him to move swiftly. He loved how keenly responsive her body was to his touch, tightening around his fingers as he stroked her to her peak. With a sharp cry of completion, she came, her frantic eyes jerking up to meet his narrowed gaze. Her mouth fell open and her face tightened with a pleasure so intense that it appeared almost painful.
He couldn't wait any longer. Hotch reared over Emily, pushing her thighs up and out and started to push his immensely swollen cock into her snug channel. "Emily," he snarled, unable to stop his forward motion even though he could feel her body resist his invasion. He gritted his teeth as he felt the aftershocks of her climax contract her inner muscles, sending a message to his primitive brain to move. To drive into her until they were both unconscious from the force of their orgasms. So consumed with passion was he that he almost didn't hear her call his name.
"Hotch. Hotch." He stared down uncomprehendingly at the gorgeously dishevelled woman beneath him. "Condom, you need to put on...a condom."
"I..." he blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog from his brain. "I don't have any." No, damn it! No!
"Let me up," Emily whispered, licking her lips. His breath hitched as he pulled out of her, his body screaming its protest at the action.
She got unsteadily out of bed and disappeared into the lounge room. She was back twenty seconds later, a basket in one hand. Even in his state of desperate arousal he felt his mouth twitch at the look of triumph on her face. "I've got some. A lot of them, actually. Thank God for the mix-up," she added, grinning. Dropping the basket on the bedside table, she picked up one of the condoms and tore it open hurriedly while Hotch looked on, amused.
All amusement quickly fled when he felt her fingers on him, giving him a lingering stroke after the prophylactic was on. Emily lay back down, tugging him over her as she spread her legs for him. The short break had given him back a measure of control and he entered her slowly now, the latex barrier dulling the sensation and allowing him to take his time with her. Finally sheathed fully within her, he gave her a look of concern. "Are you all right?"
She smiled faintly, lifting her head up so that she could press a soft kiss to his lips. "Infinitely better than all right." She took a breath. "So now it's me that going too fast but I need to tell you that I love you." His heart stopped as he stared down at her dark eyes that was shining with emotion. Shining with love. "I want you to know that one day soon, I'm going to want to have your baby, but right now, I just want you." Emily bit her lip. "I hope that's okay."
He swallowed at the lump in his throat. Why had he never seen this precious gift that had been staring him in the face all this time? They had wasted so much time. But now wasn't the time for regrets or self-censure. It was time to show her how much he loved her. How much he adored her. "Infinitely better than okay," he murmured, echoing her earlier reply. "I love you, Emily Prentiss. With all my heart. Always. Forever."
And as their lips met in a kiss that sealed their commitment to each other, he demonstrated with his body how much he worshipped her. And when their bodies again soared through the gates of ecstasy, he whispered again and again his love for her even as she replied in kind.
Monday morning
"Hey Princess, how was your Valentine's weekend?" Morgan called out, walking into the BAU with Reid at his heels. Morgan dropped himself into his swivel seat. "Had any luck finding someone to use the condoms and lube with?" He flashed her a teasing grin as Reid sat down at his own desk. Yep, he was going to work the condom angle till he either got tired of it or Emily shot him. Seeing that she wasn't allowed to shoot him, he was pretty much free to tease her about it for at least the next six months.
"Oh, yeah," replied his female partner in a distracted tone as she looked at her computer screen. "I persuaded Hotch to try them out with me. Seeing as we were both single and horny. We did pretty well too, if I may say so." She wrinkled her brow. "I think we used maybe fourteen out of the twenty-four condoms." Emily looked over at him and Reid, who were both sporting identical dropped jaw expressions. "Hope you guys had a good Valentine's too."
"Uh...yes, I did," answered Morgan slowly, about two minutes later. What the hell did she say? Her and Hotch? No way.
"That's good to know. What, Reid let you be in top for once, huh?" She snickered when he glared at her.
"Don't try to change the subject, Emily. You and Hotch did not do the deed, no way in hell."
She smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "We did, too, fourteen times. That was actual penetration only by the way. We were pumped." She laughed and Morgan narrowed his eyes, trying to spot a tell-tale sign of her lying. "Or rather, I was pumped." She wiggled her eyebrows at the young doctor. "So, Reid, were you pumped, or was it the other way around?"
"Emily, Morgan and I are not in a relationship," protested Reid, looking exasperated.
"I know, I know it's just sex. But it's the sex I want to know about. Maybe you can give me some tips." The wicked woman grinned unashamedly at them. "You know, so I can try new things out with our Unit Chief."
Morgan rolled his eyes. "We are not falling for this, Prentiss. And for your information, neither one of us sent you that basket of condoms, so you can stop trying to pay us back for our supposed practical joke."
"Oh, I know you didn't send me the condoms, Derek, Hotch did. His original order was handmade chocolates, but we're both really glad that there was a mix-up. Let's just say neither of us were in any shape to run down to the convenience store." She had the gall to wink at him. "By the way, the Trojan mint tingle, you guys should give it go, just sayin'."
"Enough about you sexing it up with Hotch, Emily. We're not believing you unless you have proof, which I'm sure you don't," replied Morgan, getting annoyed at the lengths she was going to with her joke.
"All right, fine. When Hotch comes in later this morning, he's going to have a large band-aid on the side of his neck. He gave me a hickey on my butt, which you're just going to have to take my word for, so I gave him one on the neck in retaliation. Just wait and you'll see." With a final smirk, which he itched to wipe off her face, she went back to her report.
Morgan's eyes met Reid's, who was frowning. No way, right? The older profiler mouthed to his younger colleague.
The doctor shrugged. Anything's possible.
Oh, shut up, genius.
No, you shut up.
Morgan's eyes narrowed. You're killing me.
Reid smirked. Funny, that's exactly what you said last night.
"Hey guys?" The three of them looked up at Dave, who had paused mid-way up the stairs to his office. "When Hotch comes in, do him a favour and don't ask him about the band-aid on his neck. For some reason he got really uncomfortable when I asked him in the garage. He started stammering and looked all awkward, like he was some schoolboy trying to cover up a hickey." He shook his head as he proceeded up the stairs. "Hotch actually blushing. Never thought I'd see the day."
Morgan's eyes met Reid, the younger man's stunned look mirroring his own. They both looked up as Emily approached their desks.
"I almost forgot. Here're the rest of the condoms if you want them," she said, dropping a large handful of foil wrappers in various colours on Morgan's desk. "Hotch is more a Durex kinda guy. And..." She took a few steps over to Reid's desk and placed two tubes in front of him. "Here's the 'his and hers' lube. We didn't get around to trying them out, so let me know how you go." Emily winked at Reid as she walked back to her desk. "Personally, I think the pink will look perfect on Morgan."
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