Teacher's Pet

Part 2

The rest of the night went by effortlessly. With everyone (including yourself) plastered and in high spirits, the little stunt that Hotch had pulled earlier was the furthest thing from your mind. That was, until he dropped you off at your apartment. Going inside and kicking off your shoes, you throw your phone down on the kitchen counter and walk into your bathroom to take a warm shower- slowly washing the night off of your body.
Stepping out of the shower and wrapping yourself in a big fluffy towel, you saunter into the kitchen and check your phone when a message catches your eye that renders you speechless—

(2:08am) HOTchner🔥: Tomorrow after work, 5:30. My office. Don't be late.

You gasp with widening eyes and nearly drop the phone. Flustered and worried, a million thoughts start running through your head.

Am I in trouble? Did I do something wrong? Oh fuck. Is this about what happened at Rossi's? Is he mad at me for flirting? I'm going to get fired. I am SO fucking fired. No, wait! H-he flirted back, right? Didn't he? Hold on... is he saying what I think he's saying? Is he- is he serious?

It can't be. No, absolutely not. There is no way Mr. Stickler-For-The-Rules Aaron Hotchner is talking about fucking in his office. Right?

Deciding to make him wait (and stalling so you can regain some composure), you walk into the bedroom and put on some pajamas before plopping down on your bed and thinking about what to say. Giggling, you type a response:

(2:15am) Or what, Agent Hotchner?

So you decided to be playful, what's the worst that could happen?

Not ten seconds later your phone rings, "HOTchner🔥" flashing on the screen.

Fuck.

Anxious and still incredibly intoxicated, you take a deep breath and clear your throat. Putting on your best professional voice in hopes Hotch doesn't see straight through it, you answer:

"Agent Y/L/N"

"Really Y/N?"

"Really what, Hotch? I have no idea what you're talking about" you ask, smiling to yourself and leaning against the headboard. Silence fills the other end of the line and you hear a chuckle.

"I think you know what, Agent Y/L/N. Don't be a brat. When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it without giving me an attitude or questioning me. Now I won't say it again, meet me at my office tomorrow after work. 5:30, don't be late."

Breath hitching in your throat you reply, "Yes, Sir."

"Oh and Y/N?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"You don't want to find out what happens if you don't show up. I suggest you get plenty of sleep. You're going to need it." And with that, he hung up.

Yeah, you're definitely not sleeping now.

After what feels like hours of tossing and turning, you look back at the clock that flashes 3:30AM. Jesus you're never going to get any sleep at this rate. Closing your eyes, you take some deep breaths to help relax your body. The only problem is no matter what you do, that stoic, handsome boss of yours keeps appearing in your thoughts.

With a deep sigh, you close your eyes and feel your hands begin to wander down your body. Slipping over your soft curves with one hand moving to massage your breast, you picture Hotch's hands instead of your own: big strong hands traveling down your stomach and over the curve of your hips, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Letting a moan slip past your lips, you can almost feel what it's like to have Hotch's hands on your body. Imagining his warm, wet mouth kissing and biting his way down your body, you bite your lip while pinching your nipple with one hand, making your back arch. Heart racing and sweat beading up at your forehead, you whimper in desperate need for more. Allowing your other hand to hover under your waistband over your achy, quivery pussy, you envision Hotch's naked body leaning in between your legs, and covered in sweat.