A/N: Hi all - I hope you are having a good week. Here is chapter 15, and as promised, things will start to heat up here for awhile This chapter is rated M to be safe. Enjoy :)

Chapter 15: Bedroom Hymns: I'm not here looking for absolution, Because I found myself an old solution

Her face is healing better than she anticipated - the bruises have faded enough to only require a coat of makeup if she goes out. The gash on her cheek is waning from angry red to a healing pink, and it's started to itch like something terrible unless she remembers to use the hydrocortisone cream. Luckily, it doesn't look like it will scar.

At least she dodged that bullet.

It's been almost two weeks since the incident, nine days since she'd told him off in her fit of rage. And despite her stubbornness, deep down, she knows he was right. He was right all along, about all of it.

As the days slip past, he's all but disappeared from her day to day sightings, and she's stopped trying to stumble upon him accidentally because obviously he's doing everything he can to avoid her now. It's clear he's not going to come back easily, and after another day of pondering it over, she swallows her pride and goes to him to wave the white flag.

...

Emily finds him in his office deep within the security building, his head bent over a stack of folders with another pile beside him. She's never actually been in this particular building before, she realizes when she pushes the heavy door open, the unfamiliar hallways a maze of closed doors. It's almost sterile, with crisp tile floors and blindingly white walls, most of the doors firmly shut. It suits him, Emily thinks with a hint of sadness as she meanders to his office in no particular hurry, stopping when she sees the door with his name on it.

She shivers when she sees him behind his desk, telling herself it's because the air conditioning is on full blast. It is summer, after all. "Hey."

"Oh. Hey." Aaron looks up briefly, acknowledging her presence coolly before all of his attention is back to the work in front of him. "What do you need?"

"How've you been?" She hangs in the threshold of the door, waiting for him to look up again. He doesn't.

"Not bad. Yourself?" His pen flies across the page, signing off on the daily log entries and security reports, eyes still glued to the desk. If he's attempting to look uninterested, he's doing a damn good job.

"I've been alright." Alright is a bit of a stretch. She can't remember the last time she's had a real meal; diet coke and half a poptart are essentially breakfast, lunch, and dinner if she even remembers to eat at all. But at least she's out of bed for the first time in a few days, showered with makeup on, and she's stopped drinking herself to sleep. Baby steps.

He gives the slightest nod. "Good to hear." It's a dismissal in the clearest form, his tone curt enough to sting. He's obviously in no mood to see her, let alone talk to her. Not that she blames him, since their last encounter had been such a smashing success.

"I'm guessing you've heard," she tries again, this time with a tremor in her voice. Out of habit, she glances behind her before shutting the door.

"About?"

She blinks, wondering if he's being purposefully aloof. "It seems as if Tom has refused an investigation" Emily clears her throat, nervously twisting the bracelet on her wrist. "They're chalking it up to a random mugging since he's refusing to file a complaint or take things any farther."

"Is that so?" He looks up, a neutral expression on his face. He's good. She's better, but he's pretty good at this.

"Apparently."

Aaron swallows, completely unaffected.

If there's something he's not telling me, she thinks, he's certainly good at hiding it.

"Supposedly his friend from the bar doesn't remember anything either," Emily says slowly and deliberately, head turning to the side. Do you know anything about that?"

Aaron holds her eyes, yet his expression doesn't change. "Not a thing."

She lifts an eyebrow, giving him a quizzical stare; it's obvious she doesn't quite believe him, yet accepts his answer anyway. "Their family lawyer called me too. Asking what I knew about what happened that night."

That perks his interest. "What did you tell them?"

"I told them I had no idea, and that we were through a long time ago." She pauses for a moment, avoiding his gaze."Let bygones be bygones," she adds softly. "It's over."

"Over?"

"We're through … Tom and me."

"I'm glad." He picks up his pen again, twirls it in his fingers. At least he doesn't have to tell her the truth now. Maybe one day he will, but there's no point now. As she said, let bygones be bygones.

Emily leans against the side of his desk and traces a pattern over the mahogany wood with her finger, and Aaron watches her through narrow eyes, trying to decipher what would actually bring her here, to this office, in the middle of the workday.

"Is that why you're here? To see what I know about all of this?"

She laughs."You got me there."

When he doesn't laugh, she stiffens and nervously rakes a hand through her hair. "Listen, ah. I'm sorry for what I said the other day," Emily scrapes her shoe against the floor, feeling very small. "I ...um." She stops, bites her lower lip, searching his face for a sign to keep talking, but his expression is unreadable. "I'm not very good at apologizing," she admits sheepishly, and he actually smiles this time, puts his pen down and stares right at her.

"You were being honest." The intensity of his gaze causes her to avert her own. "I respect that."

"What if I wasn't?" She hates how nervous she sounds, and how easily he can read right through her.

"What do you mean?"

She takes a deep breath. "What if … What I said the other day isn't really what I meant?"

"Emily," he begins firmly, clearly frustrated, briefly resting his head on his hands. "I don't have time for word games. I overstepped my boundaries - you made that abundantly clear. I think," he adds, pausing to take a deep breath - the first one he's taken since she showed up in his office. "I think it's best if I stay out of things at this point. I don't want to make things more complicated for you. Take some time to figure things out. Start fresh."

Oh, you already have, Emily thinks. You already have, just not in the way you think. "It's already figured out," she says softly. "I have you to thank for that." There's nothing but raw sincerity in her voice. "I should have thanked you the other day."

His pen freezes over the folder; his head lifts, his expression unchanging but just the slightest touch of curiosity in his eyes. He says nothing; she takes that as her cue to continue.

"You did me a favor, Aaron. I knew that at the time … I've known for a long time actually." She takes a deep breath. "I guess I'm just … a little stubborn in actually admitting it."

"I figured that out a while ago," he says dryly.

"I guess you know me better than I thought."

"You deserve better than that," Aaron says, not for the first time. "I've said that from the beginning."

"I know. Maybe getting pummeled in the face was actually a blessing in disguise" A wry grin twists over her lips.

Aaron is less amused. "That's not funny. You know he could have -"

"I know, Aaron" she sighs, not in the mood to be reminded of just how bad it could have been.

He stays silent, his mouth pressed into a thin line, as if he has something to say but can't form the words.

"There's something else …" Emily says before she can talk herself out of it, the words spilling out of her faster than she can form them. "When I said I didn't … need you …the other day ... I think I made a mistake. That's not what I … that's not what I meant, and I don't -" She stops mid ramble, pressing her fingers to her lips before gathering her composure.

Good god, Emily, she chastises herself, embarrassed at her sudden outburst.

Aaron is standing in front of her now - when did he get up, she wonders - his body close enough she can practically feel the heat radiating off of him; see the vein in his neck starting to pulse. "What are you talking about?" It's a rhetorical question at best. It needs no answer - it's whatever they've been dancing around for the last few weeks.

Emily blushes, her toe scraping the ground again, twirling her hair around her finger. "Don't play coy, Aaron. You know exactly what I mean." She sounds braver than she feels, and it's only when she takes a shaking breath she realizes how fast her heart is beating in her chest.

He does. "Emily." He's looking at her like he's reading her mind, his fingers closing around her upper arms gently, just tightly enough to keep her in front of him, and then he's close enough to her Emily can feel him breathe.

"This is a bad idea," she warns, her voice barely audible, because once it starts again, there's no chance she'll be able to stop. "We shouldn't."

"You're right." But instead of ducking away, Aaron pulls her to him, wrapping his arms around her back as his lips crash into hers. There's nothing slow about this - she's kissing him fervently, as if he might suddenly decide against it. Her arm winds around his neck possessively, fingers clawing at the collar of his button down shirt as his mouth works over hers.

Emily can't remember the last time she's been kissed this way - if ever at all. It's better than all the other times he's kissed her. He tastes like peppermint and cologne and something spicy; it's overwhelming and makes her head spin. His teeth clash against hers, sinking onto her lip.

Aaron is dizzy; the scent of her intoxicating and all-consuming; there are traces of jasmine in her hair and on her skin.. Emily cups his face with her hands and deepens the kiss, her tongue pushing past his lips and exploring into his mouth. She moans softly; a whimper escaping from the back of her throat. She's thought of this exact scenario more times than she can count, yet it still nearly takes her breath away. The familiar ache between her legs becomes a throb, and when he pushes a knee between her legs she cries out, her hips starting to rock against his thigh.

He lifts her up effortlessly, setting her onto his desk. Her knees part on either side of his hips, holding him between her legs as he pulls at her dress, pushing the straps down off her shoulders and bunching the fabric up to her waist. Emily arches her back instinctively, curling into him yet again.

Aaron's hand dips between her legs, a groan emitting from the very back of his throat when he finds her dripping wet. "Emily," he says quietly, his eyes searching hers. She lifts her hips just enough in an invitation, and when his fingers curl inside of her, and then press up with just the right amount of pressure, she whimpers right into his mouth.

Her head falls back when his thumb glides over her clit before pausing once again. "What are you waiting for," she breathes, pressing her forehead against his. He obliges willingly, one hand cupping the back of her head and the other working her over with unyielding precision. It's dizzying, almost taking her breath away, and it's been so long since she's actually enjoyed this it only takes a few minutes before the heat builds, higher and higher until she's keening in his ear, seconds away from a climax. She's even closer when Aaron suddenly withdraws his hand and when he pulls away, she yelps without even realizing it.

"Don't stop," she whines, bereft at the sudden loss of his hand. "Why did you stop?"

"I have a better idea," he says huskily, pushing the abandoned stack of files on his desk off to the side, sending a few wayward papers to the floor.

"What -" She's cut off with a lush kiss as he slides her back to the edge of the desk.

"Lay back," he orders, quickly slipping his suit jacket off. She obeys and slowly settles on her back, watching him with hooded eyes while he balls up his jacket and slips it under her head, dropping a kiss on her lips on his way back down. He kisses the inside of her knees, first the left and then the right, before draping her bare legs up onto his shoulders. Emily bites her lip, the intimacy of being spread apart in front of him like this enough to send a shiver down her spine. She looks down in time to see Aaron's dark head disappear between her legs, and any doubts she had vanish when his lips meet her skin.

Emily trembles in anticipation, tentatively lifting her hips against his face, and he takes his time exploring her, spreading her open even more, kissing her everywhere except where she wants him. "I've been thinking about doing this for awhile," he murmurs before he finally caresses her from top to bottom with his tongue, starting to slowly work her over. His tongue is inside of her now, persistent and relentless, and her vision blurs when his lips lock around her clit. Her toes curl and calves tighten around his shoulders; her fingers pull on his hair.

"Oh my god," she wails, reaching for something - anything - to hold on to as leverage. Her hands wrap around the edge of the desk, knuckles turning white as she starts to fall apart in hardly any time at all. He's better at this than she'd ever imagined, practically devouring her as his tongue delves inside of her again, and it's all so intensely good she can't contain the moan that escapes from the back of her throat, or the one that comes immediately after, completely unchecked. Her spine arches off the counter as her legs start to shake, yet he clearly has no intention of stopping. Aaron seems to know exactly how to build her up and keep her there just long enough until she cries out his name, her hips canting against his face.

"Aaron," she cries again, completely oblivious to the fact that they're not in a wholly private place.

"Shhh," he breathes against her thigh, taking his mouth off of her for only a brief second.

She glances down again, meeting his gaze, and that's all she needs before she starts to shake.

"That's it, sweetheart. Just like that." With one more stroke of his tongue she falls apart, her entire body convulsing on the desk as he continues with his mouth, and all she can do is ride it out as the waves of pleasure course through her body. Aaron slowly brings her back to earth, the press of his tongue easing, what was once deliberate ministrations are now gentle kisses. When he finally lifts his head, he looks incredibly pleased with himself, a handsome smirk beaming across his lips.

She's still on her back, breathing heavily, legs still spread apart around his shoulders. "God." Her eyes are dazed and slightly glassy, her chest heaving.

"Aaron is fine too," he quips with a grin, unable to take his eyes off of her.

"Come here," she reaches for him and pulls clumsily at his tie until he's practically on top of her, settling between her legs easily. When his mouth is on hers once again she can taste herself on his lips. It doesn't faze her and she licks the seam of his lips, teeth clashing against his.

He's fumbling with his belt and zipper as his teeth nip at the skin of her neck. She doesn't care that it will most definitely leave a mark tomorrow. Aaron is hard as steel in her hand, and when her fingers flex around him he tightens his grip on her hair.

"Fuck," he's panting into her neck, hard to the point of pain when the phone on his belt starts ringing. "Goddamnit," he groans.

"Ignore it," she strokes him carefully with one hand, using her other to cover the phone.

"I can't," he groans, his hips rocking into her hand. "I can't just ignore a call."

"You can," she coaxes him, wrapping her other leg around his hip just above his gun. If only he would just move a few inches. She licks into his mouth once again, kissing him hungrily, grinning when he moans again. "No one's going to come looking for you here."

She's right - it'd be too easy. Too obvious.

His pants are down past his hips when the phone starts ringing for a second time."Damnit," he mutters, pushing her hand away and fumbling at his belt for the phone, flipping it open, staring at the tiny screen. His face falls.

"Emily, I have to go," he looks at his watch. "I'm getting called to the South entrance." He looks regretful. "It's an emergency."

With a frustrated sigh she pushes him away from her, but he's already scrambling to find his jacket. "What the fuck," she grumbles, reaching for the tissue box on his desk.

"I'll try my best to make it back," he repeats, clearly flustered, tucking his shirt back into his pants and reaching for his jacket. "I'll find you." Aaron pulls her to a seated position and kisses her once more. He's gone within seconds, rushing out the door without as much as a look back.

She shoves her arms back into her dress and pulls the material down over her knees, her body numb and flushed with a trace of shame, her shoulders tense with embarrassment. "Don't bother," she mumbles, but it's too late, because he's long gone.

They always leave. Maybe he is no different after all.