This is set six months after Emily leaves the BAU. I just felt like writing something sexy and sweet. I hope you like it.

Thanks, saturdayslump, as always for betaing! You're awesome.

This story is a work of fiction by an amateur writer and is for entertainment purposes only. The writer is in no way associated with Criminal Minds nor anyone connected to the program. No Copyright infringement is intended and no monetary compensation has been received by the creation of this story.

All publicly recognized characters and storylines are owned by The Mark Gordon Company, Paramount/Viacom, Touchstone Television, CBS Television Studios, ABC Studios, and their related entities.

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He had just stepped into the hotel bar when he first caught sight of her. Her hair was longer now, with a slight curl, the way she had kept it a couple of years ago, and she was dressed in sleeveless black dress. But despite the small changes, he recognised her in an instant. He knew the way she held her shoulders, the tilt of her head as she contemplated the drink, even the way she rested her high heel clad feet on the rung of the bar stool, toes together and heels slightly apart. He wondered how much six months away from the BAU had changed her.

He suddenly wanted to know. Very much.

Walking up to the bar, he took the stool to her right. Her first words from her mouth brought a smile to his face.

"Before you offer to buy me a drink you should know the answer's going to be no," she said, without looking up.

"That's rather presumptuous of you, don't you think, Prentiss?"

Her head whipped around and her mouth dropped open in surprise. "Hotch? Oh my God!" She reached over and they shared a somewhat awkward seated hug. His mind registered the soft floral smell of her perfume and the silk of her hair against his cheek just before she pulled back. "What are you doing in LA?"

"I was asked to provide some training on crisis negotiations to the LAPD. What about you?" The bartender appeared and Hotch ordered a scotch.

"I'm here for a friend's engagement dinner party. I just came from there." She smiled, shaking her head lightly in disbelief. "I can't believe you're here."

"So Garcia tells us that you've been travelling?"

"Yeah. I've been meaning to travel through Asia for a long time, and when I decided to quit, I just booked my ticket and went. No planning, nothing." She gave him a rueful grin. "That was much more difficult than it sounded. It was a little scary not knowing what I was going to be doing, but strangely liberating in a way. I guess it was my way of proving to myself I could actually survive without being a control freak and planning every second of the trip." She took a sip of her cosmopolitan and gave him a sideways glance. "You should try it sometimes."

"I'll probably have to find another method of overcoming my issues of control. I don't know if Jack's going to be too impressed if I suddenly took us both off on a trip halfway around the world."

"Are you kidding? He'd love it."

Hotch chuckled. "Good point." They both fell silent when the bartender arrived with the scotch. After taking the first mouthful of his single malt, he turned to look at Emily. "So, how are you?"

She must have seen the seriousness in his eyes and voice because she made no attempt to prevaricate or laugh off the question. Her eyes met his. "I'm much better. Even... good."

"You look well." She did. There was a tranquillity in her eyes that he hadn't seen before, a lessening of tension in the way she held herself.

"I am. If you had told me that I would one day find myself meditating with the monks in a temple in one of the most remote areas of Tibet I would have said you were crazy. But I did just that. And while I was there, I started to feel all those jagged edges in my soul start to knit together. You were right, Hotch. I needed time that I never allowed myself to have. And for that, I will always be grateful." She reached out and covered his hand with hers.

Hotch felt something undefinable pass between them as they stared into each other's gaze. "There's no need for thanks. That's what friends are for."

Her mouth curved up in a soft smile. "Well, then, in that case, thank you, friend."

"You're welcome. I'm really glad to see you at peace."

Emily nodded and removed her hand from his, sending an unexpected pang of loss through him. He wondered at his odd reaction.

"I feel different. In a good way, obviously. The last few months have been incredible and I've experienced things I never thought I ever would. But I've also missed you all so much. How is everyone?"

"We've missed you too." I've missed you. "We're all well. It took a while to get used to your absence but we're managing. Nothing's changed, really except Dave's published a new book. We were all getting so fed up with him being constantly asked to sign his book from LEO's that I made him do that in his own time. And he did apologise by taking us all out to a very expensive dinner."

She emitted a low laugh. "Good on him."

"It was the least he could do."

Hotch drained the last of his scotch. It was late and he was exhausted, yet still strangely exhilarated at the same time. "Are you still here tomorrow?"

Emily nodded. "I'm spending the day with my friend, then leaving the day after. You?"

"I've got another day of training." He threw a few notes down on the bar as they both stood up. "In that case, maybe we can have dinner. That is, if you don't have any plans."

"That would be really nice." They walked into the foyer of the hotel. "Are you staying here?" she asked.

"1826. You too?"

"1214."

When they stepped into the elevator, Hotch pressed 12 for Emily's floor, then stepped back. At her questioning look, he said, "I'll walk you to your room."

She smiled. "Hotch, you don't need to do that."

"It's fine. It'll be my pleasure."

When they reached the door to her room, Hotch waited while she slid her card in and opened the door. "So shall we say 7:30 in the foyer?" Emily asked.

"It's a date," he replied unthinkingly. Then the words registered and he felt a flush heat his cheekbones. Real smooth, Hotchner. "I... I don't mean – "

Emily laughed, the sound tumbling over him like water over pebbles in a brook. "It's all right, Hotch, I know it's not a date."

What if I want it to be one? Hotch sucked in a breath, startled at the unbidden thought.

"Someone told me earlier that I shouldn't be too presumptuous. Despite the fact that a man asking a woman out to dinner could lead to that woman making all sorts of other presumptions," she said teasingly. Was her smile just that slightest bit...well, flirty?

He felt his cheeks become hotter. Apparently she had the power to turn him into a teenager again. Get a grip, you jackass. When all else fails, go on the offensive. He was not going to let Emily best him, a former prosecutor, in a war of words. Even if it was in a field that he admittedly had very little experience, or to be honest, confidence in, given his short-lived relationship with Beth. "And when a woman utters words like she has just done, with a certain smile on her face, a man might take it upon himself to come up with some other presumptions of his own," he replied softly.

Her eyes widened and she licked her bottom lip nervously, sending a spear of heat through him. "Hotch, I..." Her voice trailed off and she looked uncertain.

"It's all right, Emily. It's just dinner between two friends. For now." For the life of him, he didn't know what possessed him to add the last two words. But he did. "Well, good night. I'll see you tomorrow." Not giving her a chance to reply, he turned and strode off.

Because if he hadn't, he would have swooped down to capture her lips with his. Friendship be damned.

Emily spent the whole of the next day in a partial daze. She still had no idea what had happened last night. The riot of emotions that she had experienced was dizzying. First there was the joy she had experienced when she first saw her former Unit Chief. Then came the comfort in the familiarity of their interaction. At the time, she hadn't wanted to admit to herself how much she had enjoyed being in his company. How much she had missed talking to him.

How much she had missed him.

Then he had invited her out to dinner. The resulting thrill of anticipation was not what a person would feel upon receiving a dinner invitation from an ex-supervisor. He had been sweet walking her to her room. And the blush that her flirty statement had engendered was so gorgeous that it was all she could do not to reach up and kiss him. She didn't know what had made her utter that suggestive statement in the first place. Maybe it was the fact that they were no longer supervisor and subordinate. Or maybe seeing him after being away for so long had finally made her realise that she held feelings for him. Awesome. Now she sounded like the heroine in some cheesy dime store paperback.

Emily knew that she had to make a decision about what she wanted before she saw Hotch tonight. Ha, who was she kidding. She knew the moment he had responded with that suggestive statement of his that she wanted him. He had apparently mistaken her look of surprise at the realisation of her feelings for uncertainty. Not that she was completely confident at all about what lay ahead. But she wasn't an ex-CIA agent for nothing. She could fake it better than the next guy. Or gal.

She wanted him. And when Emily Prentiss wants something, she wouldn't let anything stand in her way. Hotch didn't stand a chance against her.

The moment Hotch opened the door, he knew he had made a monumental mistake. Earlier today he had tried to book a table for them at a nice restaurant, after obtaining recommendations from some of the LEO's. Unfortunately he had forgotten that it was Valentine's Day. In the end he had left a message for Emily to come to his room at their original time. He was actually half convinced that she would change her mind after the garbled message he had left trying to explain that his offer of having dinner in his room was completely innocent and that all the restaurants he had called were completely booked out, including the one in the hotel. He had literally smacked his forehead with his hand after the call. The only saving grace was that Emily knew him. Okay, she probably didn't know how stupidly awkward he was at anything related to dating and personal relationships. It was too late now. She knew, but apparently, she didn't care.

Because here she was, standing before him, dressed in a sleeveless, mid-thigh length dark purple dress. Hotch could barely tear his eyes off the bow at her neck which was obviously the only thing keeping the top of her dress together. Sheer black stockings covered her long legs and on her feet were black three-inch heels which he had once heard Morgan refer to as fuck me pumps. Yep, it had definitely not been a good idea deciding to have dinner in a location where the bed was less than ten feet away. Especially when she was clearly on a mission.

For seduction.

Hotch gulped silently.

Emily's red lips curved into a soft smile. "So do you think that maybe I could come in?"

He blinked. "Oh, sorry. Yes, of course, please, come in." He stood back and she stepped inside. Hotch's eyes widened when she casually unhooked the do-not-disturb sign from the door knob inside and hung it outside before closing the door.

Fuck. He was a dead man.

"Bedroom first or dinner first?"

So caught up was he in his wild imaginings of the myriad of sexual acts she might have in store for him that he didn't notice the teasing light in her eyes.

"Uh...Emily, I didn't mean to imply anything when I invited you to my room for dinner," he spoke quickly. "All the restaurants were booked out and I was lucky enough to be upgraded to a suite so I thought we could get room service seeing as I have the separate lounge and dining and we could talk and... "

"Hotch."

"...it's quiet so in fact it's probably – "

"Hotch."

Emily's insistent tone finally registered and he stopped short, blinking.

"I was joking, Hotch. I did get your message." She grinned. "Or should I say I received your message and managed to decipher it."

He sighed. "It was bad wasn't it?"

"No, it wasn't."

He raised an eyebrow.

Emily giggled. "It was terrible."

"I can't believe you came anyway."

She tilted her head to one side. "Of course I came. I wanted to see you," she said simply.

Hotch exhaled slowly, just managing to stop himself from shouting out with joy at her reply. "I'm glad you came. I wanted to see you too."

"So have you ordered yet? I'm starving. My girlfriend decided she was going to start her diet today and all she ate was a salad at lunch and another one for afternoon tea, fruit this time. I didn't exactly feel I should dig into a massive steak or fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy in front of her. The only reason I haven't fainted dead away from lack of nourishment is because I had a monstrous breakfast this morning."

He chuckled at the look of disgruntlement on her face. "Come on, let's get you some food before you fade away."

After placing their order, Hotch watched, amused as Emily kicked off her sexy black pumps with their crimson soles and curled her feet under her on the couch they were both sitting on.

"Those shoes may look sexy but they're a bitch to wear," she said, by way of explanation. "So how's Jack?"

"He's great. He's eight now, can you believe it?"

"No, I can't. I really don't know where time has gone. No more bullying I gather?"

"No, he's doing really well at school. And his soccer team that Dave and I coach actually won the junior division last season, believe it or not." He was extremely proud of the children's achievement. "Even we surprised ourselves."

Emily laughed. "I'm not. Your goal-oriented focus combined with Dave's enthusiasm for all things soccer would definitely have led the kids to a trophy. Sooner or later."

He narrowed his eyes in pretence of anger. "Just so you know, when I'm coaching, I'm nowhere near as intense as I usually am."

"That's a relief. It's probably not a good look when the kids start crying out on the field." Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Hey!" he protested. "I don't make you cry."

"Of course you don't. That's only because I'm tough. Reid, on the other hand..." Her voice trailed off and she managed to hold a straight face for about two seconds before she burst out laughing.

"That's not funny."

"Oh, yes it is. You should have seen you face, Hotch. You totally believed me, just for a split second. Admit it."

"I did not believe you." He might have wavered, but he didn't actually believe her. "Reid's not as soft as you might think."

"I know, Hotch. I practically watched him grow up. He's like a marshmallow with a spine of steel."

"Please don't tell him that. A man does not want to be described as a marshmallow. It has negative connotations."

"Oh?" Her mouth twitched. "Tell me what positive connotations I should use then."

"Well, the steel reference was good. You could compare a man, for example me, to a blade. Harmless when sheathed, but lethal when required." He bit back a grin at the laughter dancing in her eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he had enjoyed himself this much in conversation.

"Okay, a blade has positive, manly connotations. What else?" She leaned a little closer.

"You could compare a man to a high performance car, like a Ferrari." His voice lowered. "You know, because of the handling and the massive horsepower under the hood."

Emily's red lips were parted. "High performance, good handling, and horsepower. Got it. Shall I give one a try?" Hotch felt his breath still as she came up on her knees right next to him. "How about telling a man that he's like a panther? Lean and long and so very sleek under his black suit..." She ran her left hand up his jacket covered arm, and rested it on his shoulder. "... just like a panther under his magnificent black pelt."

Hotch swallowed hard when she swung her leg over his thighs and sat down on his lap. What was she doing? "So..." he cleared his throat awkwardly. "You don't think my suit's as magnificent as a panther's pelt?"

Christ. Her lace-edged stockings were being held up by a suspender belt. He felt his cock jerk in his dress slacks.

"Oh, I do," purred Emily, her hands pulling at his maroon tie. "Magnificently sexy. I don't think I've seen this suit before. Is it new?"

"I... uh... just bought it today. I saw it in the display of one of the stores near the hotel."

She gave him a slow, suggestive smile. "You bought it for our date?"

He nodded, having lost his voice somewhere between the time she dragged the tie off his neck and her shifting closer so that she was practically sitting on his dick. He was finding it hard to breathe as a result of her extremely close proximity. His eyes dropped down to her scarlet lips. It was taking everything in him not to drag her head down and capture those sinfully inviting lips. But it seemed that Emily could read his mind. Who was he kidding, a child could read his mind right now. Not that he wanted a child to know his thoughts. Because they were not suitable for audiences under the age of eighteen. Possibly twenty-one. That was how x-rated they were.

And then his mind went blank because her soft, supple lips were touching his. It took less than two seconds of contact with her mouth before his hands, which he had so far forced to remain on the couch, jerked up and grabbed her waist hard, making her gasp against his lips. The kiss deepened and Hotch teased his way into her mouth, stroking her tongue with his. He smiled inwardly with satisfaction when he felt her shiver. And then it was his turn to react when she tentatively sucked on his tongue, his groan muffled by her mouth even as his hands slid down and cupped her bottom, bringing her right up against his arousal.

The next few minutes were spent sharing kisses which amazed Emily with their sensual carnality. Lips conjoined, tongues tangled and teeth grazed as they tried to possess each other in this unexpected dance of passion. Emily moaned low in her throat, grinding down against the steely erection under her, each brush of her clit over his hardness sending a rush of sensation straight up to her brain. Harder and harder she rubbed against him, her mind blank to anything else except this extraordinary swells of pleasure washing again and again over her.

As a result, she was unprepared when Hotch cupped her head in his hands and broke off their kiss. She must have had a look of dazed confusion on her face because he spoke while he lifted her up and shifted her backwards on his lap.

"I'm about to come in my pants like a kid in high school when I'd rather come in you. Is that all right?" His harsh voice scraped over her exposed nerves, already rubbed raw from her intense arousal. His explicit words, coupled with the look of lust in his dark eyes caused a rush of moisture to escape from her core. She nodded helplessly.

At that, his hands exploded into action. Emily held her breath as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his slacks, pushing his briefs down so that his erection sprang up between them. She gasped at the sight of his flushed, pulsing cock, its head wet with pre-cum. She reached out, her hand encircling it, hearing Hotch mutter a curse when she rubbed her thumb over the moist slit. She wanted so badly to put her mouth on him, but he didn't give her a chance.

Hotch grabbed her dress and pulled it up to her waist, and then with a hard jerk, her panties were suddenly torn off her. Her gasp of surprise melted into a keening moan when his fingers slid through her wet folds, lightly circling the entrance to her body before coming up and gently stroking her swollen bud. To her dismay, he soon stopped, instead, drawing her hips toward his yet again.

He urged her up over him, but paused, the tip of his cock poised for entry. "Emily, are you sure?"

Her heart melted at his question. Even at this point, despite the fact that she could see that his control was hanging by the thinnest of threads, he wanted to make sure that this was what she wanted. "I want you, Hotch, so much. Please take me. Right now."

His eyes closed briefly in relief and then their gazes locked as Hotch slowly entered her. She hissed out a breath at the sting caused by his girth filling her. Like him, his shaft was long rather than wide, but it had been a long time since she had been intimate with a man and her body was unused to being stretched this way.

Halfway in, he halted her descent, eyes filled with a mixture of concern and desire. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." She could see he didn't quite believe her, so she took matters into her own hands. Sliding back up, she smiled faintly when she saw his eyes roll back into his head and his mouth fall open at the feeling of her slickly gliding up his cock. Without warning, she slammed herself down on him, her eyes flying shut as she bit her lip hard at the sharp edge of pain the sliced through her.

"Emily!" She opened her eyes to see the worry in his furrowed brow and eyes. "Why didn't you wait, sweetheart? There's no rush." His voice was low and gentle.

She shook her head, unable to answer. She stared at him, her body throbbing with a mixture of pleasure and pain as it worked to adjust to his presence within her. His eyes were calm and then she felt his hand between them. Emily automatically leaned back to give him space and then his thumb was skimming her sensitive clit. Her breath hitched and it took barely any time before her arousal was again climbing high and fast. As pleasure streaked through her, she felt her muscles relax around him. She clenched them experimentally, to see if there was any residual pain, looking up in surprise when she heard a stifled grunt.

Hotch was staring at her with passion burning brightly in his dark eyes, his forehead damp with perspiration. "Emily, I have to be honest. I don't think I can hold on much longer. If you don't think you can take me, tell me now."

She didn't waste time on replying. Bracing her hands on his shoulders she lifted herself up and slid down again, her breath catching at the surge of pleasure that streaked through her as his iron hard shaft touched the sensitive nerves in her tight channel. Two strokes later and Hotch cursed, grabbing hold of her hips and pulling her down harder on him. Guiding her, he worked her on his cock, the room filled with the sound of their moans and panting breaths.

Emily felt the tension coil tighter and tighter in the base of her abdomen as her clit rubbed hard against his pubic bone on each descent. And on the next stroke she was there, white hot lightning shooting through her body and exploding in the synapses of her brain. His name erupted from her lips in a desperate wail of pleasure and her body shuddered violently. She had barely touched back on earth when he arrived at his peak, growling her name low in his throat and he pulled her hips tight against his, as if he wanted her to catch every drop of semen he was spilling deep within her.

She should have been alarmed at the thought that they had not used any protection. But for some reason, she didn't care. She wanted to carry his child. This man she already had such deep feelings for. A man she knew almost as well as she knew herself. One she could so easily fall in love with. Her body still shaking with post-orgasmic spasms, she leaned weakly into him, resting her head on his shoulder. She felt his arms come around her, his left hand rubbing her back gently.

"Fuck." His voice was a heartfelt growl.

Emily couldn't help but laugh. It was earthy and base and perfectly encapsulated his emotions at that moment. "Fucking A," she replied emphatically.

Hotch's chest shook under her. "I love your dirty mouth. It suggests that you have a dirty mind."

Her arms tightened around him. "What would you infer if I told you that I intend to utterly and completely drain you of all your energy tonight?"

"I would infer that you're planning to have a lot of sex."

"Very good deduction there, Agent Hotchner. There is going to be a hell of a lot of sex. I hope you're prepared for that."

"I think I might need some sustenance first," he murmured. As if on cue, her stomach growled and they laughed simultaneously. "I infer from the sound that you're hungry."

"And I infer from the knock on the door that our food's finally arrived."

"Shit." Hotch lifted her off him and put her on the couch. "Coming," he called out as he hurriedly fixed up his slacks.

Emily giggled as she pulled down her dress. "Oh, yeah, there's going to be a lot of that too."

"You're going to be the death of me," he said over his shoulder as he opened the door. "Thanks," he said to the bellboy after the trolley was in the room. "We'll serve ourselves."

She got up from the couch and walked gingerly towards the bathroom after the door closed behind the bellboy.

"Where are you going?" asked Hotch, as he started to uncover the dishes.

"I just need to clean up. Be right back."

"Good thing we ordered a lot of food," said Hotch sometime later. He eyed Emily, who was now wearing one of his dress shirts, sleeves rolled up and only two buttons fastened. She smiled at the now familiar look of lust darkening his eyes as they roamed up her stockinged legs to her suspender belt. "I think I'm going to need a hell of a lot of energy tonight."

"Oh absolutely," replied Emily, licking the béarnaise sauce that had accompanied her steak from her forefinger. Hotch emitted a deep groan as she swirled her tongue playfully from base to tip. "You won't be getting any sleep at all. I can guarantee you one thing. The team will be getting a very tired, but very happy Unit Chief tomorrow." She winked at him. "Just call it my service to the nation."

Emily squealed in surprise when Hotch hauled her onto his lap. "As long as your nation is confined to me and me alone," he growled threateningly against her ear.

She grinned, linking her fingers behind his neck. "I sense some negative connotations there."

"You can infer by my previous statement that I am an extremely possessive man, Emily Prentiss."

"But conversely, because you are a possessive man, I can also presume that you will cherish me as I deserve?" Emily said this in a teasing tone, but her chest was tight as she waited for his answer.

Hotch sobered. "Emily, I promise you this: I plan to cherish you, hold you, and care for you for the rest of our lives. Now that I finally have you, I'm not letting you go. Ever."

She drew in a shuddering breath, blinking to keep her tears at bay. "That's good. Because I'm a possessive woman, and I'm never letting you go either."

Hotch leaned forward and she touched his forehead with hers. After a while, he lifted his head. The boyish smile that graced his face made her heart skip. She couldn't believe that this incredible man was finally hers. After all this time. "Let's finish up so I can take you to bed and hold you."

She smiled. "Deal."

Next day in Quantico

Hotch looked up at the sound of the knock on the door. "Dave."

"How did the training go?" Dave leant his shoulder against the door jamb.

"Good, the changes we made to the training module greatly improved the way the information was disseminated. The LAPD found it very useful, so it was a good two days." Nothing compared to last night, which he would have described more along the lines of mind-blowing. Emily was right. They had had almost no sleep. He was light-headed with exhaustion. And slightly on edge from the three cans of red bull he had drunk on the way to work. Hotch raised his eyebrows when his former mentor walked into the room, eyes narrowed.

"Did something happen in LA?"

"Like what?" Hotch kept his face blank.

"You look different. Less...tense."

"I had a few beers last night and had a good night's sleep."

"No, it's not that." Dave observed Hotch for a few seconds, while Hotch pretended to look bored. "It's a woman isn't it? Did you meet someone?"

"I was training, Dave, when would I have had the time to meet someone?"

His friend just stood there, looking suspiciously at him.

"All right, all right. You got me," Hotch said, lifting his hands in surrender. "I bumped into someone I used to know, invited her to my room, we made wild, passionate love all night long up to the second I had to leave to catch my plane and here I am. Drunk with exhaustion but high on endorphins and red bull."

Dave rolled his eyes. "There's no need to be a drama queen, Aaron. A simple no, I didn't meet anyone would have sufficed."

Hotch bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. "Was that account too over the top?"

"Yeah." The older profiler turned to leave. "I might've believed you if it hadn't been for the 'invited her to my room' part. Go with something a little more believable next time."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Hotch with a straight face.

Dave stopped in the doorway. "Seriously though, il mio amico, you really need to get laid. Like asap. You're starting to look kinda jittery."

Hotch coughed to disguise his laughter. "Thanks for your advice, Dave. I'll get right on it." And he would. Tonight at eight. At her new apartment.

He could hardly wait.

I hope you enjoyed that. Something a little more lighthearted than my last oneshot! Please send me through a review if you can! I'd love to hear from you.