Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds, Although I wish I did.

This is my first fanfic, so I hope you will be gentle.

Warning:

This chapter heavy on smut and agnst!

Chapter 3

Emily sighed, hearing the knock. The girls must have followed her home. She looked out her peephole, and paled all over again. It was Hotch, he was probably here to let her down easy. To make sure what happened today, wouldn't screw with the team dynamics. She took a deep breath and opened the door. Just as he had years ago, he asked her if he could come in. And just like then she moved out of the way to let him in, her stomach tied in knots, just like it had been then.

She looked puzzled as he openly stared at her, but shook her head at some thought. Her expression was utterly bleak.

"Look Hotch, I know why your here, I'm sorry that I embarressed you with what I said. If you want me to transfer to another team I will." Emily managed to say, without looking at him.

He couldn't help stop himself from pulling her into a hug, one hand at her back and the other just at the base of her neck. Her response was not what he expected.

Emily just stood there, unmoving. She didn't hug back or push him away. She just didn't do anything, it was like she was incapable of deciding whether to do one thing or the other, or like she'd set herself to endure whatever might happen next. He pulled back to look at her, As soon as he looked at her, she averted her eyes but the quick flash of the look he caught before she looked down told him she didn't understand what he was trying to show her.

"I'm sorry," he said, as she gazed back at him, confused. He bent forward and down, kissing her forehead and holding her to him for a moment, absent her boots, her professional clothes, out of her comfort zone she was smaller and more vulnerable than most people knew, even he forgot it sometimes in the face of her forceful persona, her athletic strength, her long build and generous curves.

Emily bit her lip, trying to figure out what he was doing.

"You bite your lip when you're trying to think of something to say," Hotch said trying to think, a serious look on his face, as his eyes darkened and glinted at Emily. "You also do it when you really don't like something that's happening but you can't quite figure out how to get out of it."

Emily stilled as she realized that yes, she had drawn her lower lip between her teeth. Shit. Now how was she supposed to respond? Emily really did hate him right now, she hated feeling so emotionally naked around him.

"It's really cute, even sexy, when it's not because you're trying to run away from me," Hotch said. "Then, it's just irritating."

"Hotch, I ..." Emily wasn't really sure what she was going to say next, as Hotch leaned down and pressed small kisses to her face. "Don't do this, this isn't what you want. You just feel bad about what happened today. Besides, you have Beth." Emily stiffened in Hotch's arms remembering the other woman.

"I'm not with Beth, we broke up weeks ago. And you are who I want, who I've wanted for years." Hotch said tightning his arms around her.

"No, you don't," Emily said, shaking her head. She pulled away from Hotch, moving away from him. "You just feel sorry for me. Please go Hotch."

"You are the most infuriating woman," he growled, arms shooting out and gripping her shoulders.

"Let me go" Emily pushed Hotch away. "I don't need your pity." She didn't want him this way. She didn't want his pity. "Get out," she said flatly. "How dare you assume you can come in here and make ... love ... to me just because you feel guilty." Part of her knew she was being somewhat unreasonable, but she was still feeling the effects of the panic that had gripped her when she learned the guys had heard everything she had said this morning. She had been completely unprepared and Emily hated being unprepared.

"Pity?" Hotch ground out disbelievingly. "You think I'm here out of pity?" He shook his head angerly. "You're running again, running away from me. You go ahead and run, Emily," he hissed, pain and panic mixing with fury.

"I am not running …" she gasped out.

"Oh, please," he interrupted brutally. "Lie to yourself if you want, but you can't fucking lie to me."

Emily gasped at the hard language, she had never heard from him before.

He turned and stormed out of her apartment. He started walking, leaving behind the woman he loved and his car. He wanted to go get rip roaring drunk, he wanted to hit something badly. He couldn't believe he had gone from so happy when he found out she loved him to. To so devestated and angry, when she hadn't believed he loved her. Pity!, since when had he ever done anything outside of the job, out of pity.

Emily stood in her living room in shock. She knew she couldn't leave things like this. She ran out out the door, trying to catch him.

"Hotch!" He heard her shout. He kept walking, without bothering to slow down. "Hotch!"

He heard her feet pounding on the pavement and he whirled around to face her. The thought assaulted him suddenly that she was the source of his frustration and she should damn well be the one soothing it. Everything was rising up his fears, his anger, his yearning, and he was done bottling it up. He had told her he wanted her, and she had dismissed it, dismissed him.

"Don't say a word," he warned, grabbing her arm and hustling her back to her apartment. She was struck speechless as he dragged her back into her apartment.

Emily watched him flick the deadbolt on the door, the sound strangely loud in the silence.

"Hotch …" she began tentatively, but he walked in her direction and she took an involuntary step back.

"What did I say?" he growled, one arm going around her back, the other behind her knees as he lifted her in one swift movement and carried her to her bedroom. His mouth was on hers instantly, kissing her with every iota of anger, love, and passion coursing through him. Her hands tightened convulsively in his hair as she kissed him back, unable to do anything else.

Setting her on the bed, Hotch straddled her, every button popping as he ripped open her blouse.

"You wanna run, Emily, fine," he said darkly, leaning down until his chest touched her laced-covered breasts. "But you're going to remember this every damn day." And he fell on her, lips running feverishly over her skin as his hands rid her of every stitch of clothing.

His hands cupped her naked breasts reverently and she moaned softly, arching into the touch. Her own hands, small and efficient, glided over him, discarding jacket, shirt, and pants. His skin burned wherever she touched him and once he was naked on top of her, Hotch was certain every single inch of him was on fire.

He watched her eyes drift shut as his hands glided over the curves of her body and his throat closed at the unexpected sweetness of her response. The anger drained out of him as if sucked into a vacuum and his forehead rested against hers, thumbs stroking in small circles across her hipbone.

"Tell me to stop." His voice was raw, pleading for her to stop this because he didn't have the willpower.

"No," she whispered hoarsely, eyes opening, hands wrapping around him and guiding him to her as she parted her legs to accommodate him between smooth, white thighs.

His breath hitched, throat working desperately as the enormity of the situation hit him. If he touched her, if she was his for even one night, how could he ever be free of her?

"Emily …" he choked out, one thumb trailing a soft path from hipbone to the soft flesh between her legs. His finger glided smoothly up and down the edge of her soaked sex. The butterfly caress along her slick folds made her shudder as her hands released his rigid length and stroked over his body.

"Please," she pleaded, legs locking tight around him. "Don't stop. Please, Aaron, don't … please."

"Emily …" Her name was surrender and anguish as he slid inside her in one clean stroke.

Head thrown back, she moved under him in abandon, starving for this part of him she'd denied herself for so long. Hotch couldn't take his eyes off her, cataloguing every reaction, absorbing every sound, every gasp of pleasure on every slide in, every whimper on every stroke out. He pressed kisses to her chest, her shoulders, her neck, desperate to imprint every part of this forever on his soul. The desire was quite masochistic, considering the circumstances, but this, this was perfection and he felt nearly frantic to remember every second of it because he knew might never experience it again.

Her gasps of pleasure washed over him, fingers digging into his back urging him to join her in the cresting avalanche of rapture crashing over her. His own fingers tangled in the waves of ebony hair spread over the white pillow, lips capturing hers as he poured everything he had inside the woman that was everything to him.

Falling onto his back, Hotch stared blindly at the ceiling, listening to her ragged breathing. Next to him, her body pumped heat like a furnace and he closed his eyes trying to stop himself from doing something crazy. But when he felt her shift on the bed, his eyes snapped open and he turned his head to look at her.

"You should leave," she suggested calmly and he paled at the near toneless words.

"Oh Emily... God..., I'm sorry, I …" Hotch floundered.

"Don't be." Emily said in that same empty voice.

"Emily, please just..." he stopped again searching for the right words.

"I'm going to take a shower, don't be here when I get out." Emily got up, and walked into the bathroom, closing and locking the door.

Hotch stared after her, his heart breaking for the both of them. He had screwed up, he had told her wanted her, but he hadn't told her he loved her. She'd never believe him if he told her now. He got up, and dressed before leaving her apartment, wondering just how the hell he could fix this?

I know don't kill me. They'll work it out, I promise. Let me know what you think.