|The Girl She Used To Be
Author: ilovetvalot PM
She needed to find her way back to that girl she used to be...TENSHOT. Hotch/GarciaRated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Humor - A. Hotchner/Hotch & P. Garcia - Chapters: 9 - Words: 12,506 - Reviews: 57 - Favs: 48 - Follows: 23 - Updated: 08-23-11 - Published: 08-13-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7282758
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
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The Girl She Used To Be
"I doubt it. All you could see was Derek and I sure as hell wasn't getting in between that," Hotch muttered, stiffening slightly above her.
Soothing her hands down the tense muscles of his back, Pen shook her head against the pillow. "There was nothing to come between, Aaron. Derek and I were never anything but friends. Nothing more, nothing less. Honestly, I hid behind him."
"Pardon?" Hotch frowned, bracing an elbow on either side of her as he lifted away to peer down into her bottomless eyes.
"He was my cover. My shield. My reluctant, yet all too able sacrificial lamb," Penelope elaborated, lifting a hand to stroke Aaron's uncompromising jaw.
"Who the hell were you hiding from?" Hotch asked, his dark eyes perplexed.
Merely raising her brows, she met his stare wordlessly and waited...and waited...and...
"Are you kidding me?" Hotch shouted as comprehension finally dawned.
Slamming a hand against his opened mouth, Garcia shook her head, pressing a finger to her lips. "Shhhh! I don't think I can save you from my landlady twice in one night, Aaron!" she hissed, glancing worriedly toward the door to her bedroom.
Rolling to his back in one quick motion and taking her with him, Aaron stared up into Garcia's surprised face. "First," he said, capturing her hand in his and pulling it away from his mouth, "if anything was going to bring Old Lady Kawasaki..."
" Kawowski," Penelope corrected him automatically, bracing her hands against his strong chest as she stared down at him.
"Whatever! If anything was going to bring her running with her trusty little phone, it would have been those moans you were making for me earlier. Second," Hotch growled, pinching her well-formed ass painfully, "Why the hell didn't you tell me how you felt!"
"Owww," Pen squealed, slapping at the fingers pinching her ass. "Quit it!" she squealed, squirming on top of him. "I'm sorry!" she whispered. "But you didn't tell me either."
"I thought you were in love with Morgan," Hotch replied defensively, bumping his forehead against hers.
"And I thought you'd reject me, so there!" Garcia retorted, her pink lips pursing as she glared down at him. "I didn't have any reason to think you wouldn't."
"You didn't have any reason to think I would, either," Hotch replied, his hands settling possessively around her hips. "And just for the record, I wouldn't have rejected you. Ever," he assured her, his dark eyes boring into hers, willing her to see the sincerity shining there.
"You wouldn't?" Garcia asked weakly, her body relaxing completely against his.
"No. I wouldn't. I'm not. In case you've missed the evidence," Hotch whispered, lifting her hips to nuzzle her soft entrance, "I want you. I've never not wanted you. Get it now?" he asked, cupping her neck and guiding her sweet lips back to his. "I'm in love with you," he whispered as he heard her breath catch audibly in her throat.
"I...I...," Penelope faltered, shocked to her core.
"Oh, God," Hotch whispered, mockingly horrified, "She's speechless. Are there frogs falling from the sky?" he teased, kissing her temple.
"Hey!" Penelope yelped, his soft laughter pulling her from the daze she'd lapsed into. Twisting a flat brown nipple between her fingers as she settled her hips more heavily against his groin, she narrowed her eyes. "You're not exactly in a position where you'd want to make me angry," she pointed out silkily as she slid a hand between them to cup him intimately. "Not with all your vulnerable parts showing," she whispered as she moved seductively against him.
Groaning as she rolled her hips, Hotch steadied her quickly. "You're killing me," he said throatily as her hair fell around him.
"Not yet," she drawled, her tone a promise.
Gripping the edges of her gown, he pulled it over her head in one smooth movement, baring her heavy breasts to him. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he buried his face against her, her musky perfume heightening his arousal. "No more talking," he ordered, mouthing one berry tipped breast. "I have it on good authority that it's overrated."
"Ahhh," Pen breathed, throwing her head back as he tongued first one peak, then the other. "Normally, I'd agree with you," she said, her focus split as his strong hands cupped her ass, moving her so that the tip of his arousal began to pierce her creamy center, "...but, you need to hear this."
"Talk fast," Hotch warned, tonguing her nipple. "I'm losing interest in anything but your body at an accelerated pace here, sweetheart."
Smiling as he slowly slid deeper into her steaming core, Penelope whispered, "I love you, too."
"Good," Hotch whispered, burying a hand in her silky curls as he lifted his hips to claim her. "That makes this much, much sweeter."
Wrapping her arms around his strong neck as her body found a natural rhythm with hers, the yin to his yang, Penelope felt herself letting go of her tight hold on reality, allowing his gentle caresses to carry her toward paradise once more.
Their ardent cries mingled as one retreated and the other advanced, the perfect synchronicity of the moment painfully evident as their bodies met. Soft gasps and moans of pleasure escaped their lips as her body tightened around his, a silken glove wrapped around a steely staff.
Moving faster, Aaron gripped her hips as his body slid in and out of hers, pulling hungry sounds from her parted lips. "That's it, Sweetheart. Give in to it," he breathed against her ear.
"So, close," Penelope said, her voice high and desperate as her movement on his body became tighter...hotter.
"God, yes," Hotch groaned as her soft walls contracted around him, coaxing him toward a precipice that promised paradise. Tightening his grip on her hips, he helped her move, meeting each downward thrust of her body with an upward stroke of his own. "God, Penelope!" he bit out, his veins standing out on his corded throat as pleasure pervaded his body.
Screaming his name as her body convulsed, she gasped as the wet sound of skin slapping skin continued and her nails dug into his neck as his rough shout filled the air.
"Oh, Goooooddddd," Hotch groaned as he exploded inside her, his hips moving with tight, jerky strokes as he filled her with his essence.
"Yesss!" Penelope squealed as his back arched, his arousal piercing the heart of her, pulling a second orgasm from her spent body. Gasping, she collapsed against him, sweaty and disoriented.
Long minutes later, she became aware of his strong, warm hands stroking her spine. Loathe to move...to give up this profound connection she'd found with him, she hummed appreciatively.
Hearing the soft sound, Hotch dropped a kiss against her damp forehead, her head still resting heavily on his chest. "How do you feel, sweetheart?" he asked, his smooth voice reverberating against her skin.
And smiling faintly, Penelope nestled closer. "Like the girl I used to be," she replied dreamily.
And together, she and Hotch never allowed that girl to become lost again.