Chapter Fifteen: How Do You Want Me?
You weren't sorry for asking. In fact, you were blood boiling and angry. Why is Axel still chasing you? There is nothing more for you to give to that man, and for reference, you're broke. Dead beat broke which apparently was a mistake you'd rather not look into. Right after the ice cream parlor, you laid in bed and faked sleep until you heard the soft breathes of the man in the other bed. You pulled out your journal and created another entry.
Entry two
8/30/17 11:36 PM
I don't know what's going on. With me, mentally and physically (my ribs seem to be as stubborn as me). I haven't gathered much. Before I was released from the hospital, I gifted Celia fifteen million dollars. Around one hundred thousand was left to me and I insisted she take it as she doesn't work for me anymore. She has a kid for God sake, she needed it more than I ever will. During the visit to New York, Axel had contacted me. The first time was soon after I arrived on the first day. The team was knee deep in the case and I was observing. I was supposed to be taking non existent notes but that never happened. His text was under a random burner phone, I could tell by the 1-800 at the beginning of the number.
Of course I didn't tell Hotch. I must take slow steps and fully incorporate any knowledge I can before presenting him with the texts. That night when we went to the diner, a girl with fiery red hair took our orders. She was shy and had a slight tremor in her voice. She was afraid and seemed to recognize me. She glanced back a few times after taking our order and confirmed that. When I introduced Hotch to the oh so ever delicious ice cream parlor, she was there again. This time in all black and extreme arrogance. I did a double take on her and she seemed to do the same. She made a look, the kind only given by mean girls in high school.
Hotch brushed it off and insisted I needed some rest. Another text came in during that time: Axel knew my exact location and who I was with. He also knew about the kiss I shared with Hotch and said he was right all along. About what? That Hotch liked me? Anyways, I have a working theory. I believe that the mystery red haired woman is working with Axel, either in a platonic or romantic relationship. The only way this theory is rocking is understanding how he knew I was in New York before I had first met the red head. I don't have a theory about Celia unless she is secretly with Axel as well but I doubt it. That's all for now.
You slammed the journal shut a bit too hard but Hotch never stirred. You tipped toed over to your bag and stuffed your journal inside. It was already packed for your departure back home tomorrow where you were still living with Hotch. You told yourself to find an apartment but you didn't have the necessary protection. Also, Hotch insisted you still live with him until you are completely and utterly better. In perfect health is what he meant.
There wasn't a snip of reluctance in your mind that Axel would come out of hiding soon. You still weren't ready to see the contents of the envelope and found it stupid to mention in the entry if you didn't even know what was inside. Deciding that it was becoming late and there was an early flight, you slipped under the covers and turned off the lamp.
Though you didn't sleep, there was still a sense of peacefulness that fulfilled you.
• • •
Flying commercials was a good idea at the time, however when you made it to TSA, you suddenly regretted your decision. Hotch was pre-cleared for law enforcement personnel so you followed him around like a puppy, gripping the back of his suit jacket so he wouldn't wander off. The flight was short and uneventful. Hotch let you have the window seat thankfully and decided to type endlessly on his laptop. Something about a briefing or lecture? You couldn't remember as you were so exhausted.
But once you made it back to his house, you showered and rejoined him downstairs. "What did you make?" you asked as you see the mess of a kitchen.
"Scrambled eggs," he said, eyes glued to the laptop and never drifting.
"Scrambled eggs? It's nearly two in the afternoon?" you laugh but continue to serve yourself a plate. You plopped down on the couch next to him, keeping your eyes from averting to his laptop. There was a way his posture was that showed he wanted privacy.
You scooted away, nearly hitting the arm of the chair as you took a bite of the eggs. Taking a bite, you nearly barfed at the taste of them. Unseasoned and overcooked.
"That's all I know how to cook. Jessica usually takes care of meals after Haley, and I never learned really," he explains it like a robert, so hyper focused on his screen that he could pass for an iPad addicted toddler.
You clear your throat and push your legs under you. "Maybe I could teach you to make something for dinner? I know plenty of recipes and I wouldn't mind." You whisper the suggestion, scared that he would find offense in your comment.
After cooking for Axel for so many years, you learned to adapt to the life in the kitchen. It was the only grounding you had living in that house. You put the plate on the coffee table and wait for his response. He snaps out of whatever work trace he was in and looks at you with a small yet considering smile.
"Are they really that bad? I'd assume I wasn't horrible at everything involving the kitchen."
You nod shyly, biting down on your lip to prevent the smile threatening to break out on your face. "It's okay though, I taught you how to make french toast and this would just be a bigger step into your new career,"
Eyebrows quirked up, he closes his laptops and shifts closer to you. "My new career?"
"Yes! As a mediocre chef! We all start out as beginners as that is just how life works and maybe- Jack will appreciate it."
"Oh sweetheart," he chuckled, shifting even closer. You didn't feel hunted or uncomfortable, the tone was playful and you trusted this man with all your heart. "That was the last straw."
"Oh is that right?" you teased lightheartedly, "Last time I checked, you're really a big softy on the inside, darling. And you enjoy, cookies- and- cream- ice- cream- and- won't- admit- it."
"I'm not soft," he counteracts. It was weird seeing him like this, in such a teasing manner yet to be composed perfectly. Rarely did he ever break like this, at least before you knew him.
"You so are! You don't like showing though, you think it makes you seem like a grandpa," you slowly lean in towards him, gripping into his thighs for support as you pronounce your words with exaggeration.
He sucks in a breath but you don't even realize what you're doing, your mind flipping switches to see how far you can push him before he finally lets up. Admittedly so, you were very close, so close that you could feel his heartbeat while you weren't even pressed against him. No one in the world can remain so cool and collected while being insulted, for you finding his breaking point seemed like a mission in life.
"I can't see where your perception of me comes from," his voice is deep and husky, contradicting the tone it had moments before. "Had Garcia told you something I'm not aware of?"
"Trust me, if Garcia told me- the entire team would have already known. She cannot keep a secret for the rest of her life."
Faces inches from his, you squeeze into his upper thighs so you don't fall. His hands grip around your forearm with a shuddering sigh. "I disagree with you. She is very good at secrets, that is why we hired her apart from her technical skills. I'm not that old."
Rolling your eyes, you plop backwards, snapping out of whatever trace you'd built a moment ago. Hotch bites the inside of his check for a second only to appear normal the next.
"Listen, you're like hundreds of years old and don't know how to cook, that right there sounds like a grandpa. Plus, you're always so- stern."
"Stern people get things done," Hotch argues.
"So you admit it!"
"I haven't admitted to anything Y/N," he argues.
"Yes you did- you just admitted that you were stern! Maybe I won't be able to keep it a secret, the team will be hearing about this soon."
He shrugged with a tight lip smile. "Even if it makes me seem old, I'm still only forty-three. This job requires hardship."
"Which makes you fourteen years older than me! I want teen born when you graduate high school and we're in two different generations, that to me is enough proof." You explain with a smile. There wasn't an ounce of anger in his face, only amusement.
"What are you...class of 2078?"
You gasp and hurry up from the couch, ready to run away from him. "You did not just say that!"
"You give what you get Y/N, learned that back in high school." A cocky grin is planted across Hotchs' face. It almost makes you angry but in a good and playful way.
With a groan, you cross your arms and startle him, standing right in his line of vision. Without knowing it, his eyes scanned your body, surfacing a feeling of warmth to arrive on your skin. Right now it was nearly dead silent except for the clock ticking by the TV.
You couldn't move, not even an inch, his eyes were so laser focused on you that you believed that if you moved something more would happen. Something good. Sweat covers a slick layer over your neck and hands, it was unbearable that his look had such an effect on you. You stood there, almost waiting for him to get up, but instead he leaned back into the couch, putting his hands around the back and spreading his legs.
You don't know if you could bear it any longer, crossing your feet in a way to occupy yourself. Suddenly it was like the air conditioning was never on, your clothes felt sticky to your skin. Hotch moved a hand to rub down his stubble, this time less desecrated when he stares you down. There wasn't a way to stop your breathing from picking up. Neither of you had said anything, rather admiring each other.
Up until now, you didn't fully understand how attractive he was. Dark hair, muscles, sharp jawline and veins running up his arms. Just lines running by his lips significantly changed his whole look, showing he has really lived.
"Aaron?" you practically whisper. He doesn't hear you, still watching you closely. You want to squirm under his gaze yet remain still instead.
The English dictionary didn't have enough words to describe the way you felt: almost like a string of twisted emotions pulling you in different directions because you can't decide if you want to continue with him. Ever since the hospital, he is the only one who looks at you- truly looks at you. He sees you as someone who is whole rather than a broken woman. When it was night time you always seemed to be more irrational. You had noticed it was the same for him, creating a bubble of tension that you couldn't move away from.
In your life you hadn't had much experience with men. Axel never gave you that kind of thing- and intimacy with him was never existent. It was sad and unbearable but looking back you understand why you saved yourself. It wasn't to please others but allow that sense of longing to appear elsewhere- like now. Hotch had a steady gaze, one that didn't make him look desperate for your body, only a look of worship as though you were the first woman to stand in front of him like this.
He shakes his head, almost in a disappointing manner. His next words are soft, gravely even. "You'll never seem to understand Y/N."
"I don't," you cower, "...know what I bring to you. Why can you look at me that way?"
Finally he meets your eyes painfully. "Look at you, what way?"
"Like I'm the only woman in the world," you hesitated, taking a step towards him. "Why?"
A look of embarrassment takes over Hotchs face, one that gushes his blood to his face so his nose and cheeks shine red. You can't help but have a soft smile at the sight. He gulps down whatever was forming in his throat, a hand coming to attach to your hip, not so harshly- just enough force to pull you between his legs while still standing straight.
"When I look at you- I do see the only woman in the world- one who doesn't even acknowledge herself in existence yet still makes an impact anywhere she goes."
You suck in a break. Butterflies swarm your stomach, heat pulling you. You didn't know he was capable of saying something like that, let alone something so confidential that was kept in his thoughts. It made you want to curl away in a ball, a very, very, tight one. But it also shook you with a foreign feeling. You'd never felt so warm inside like a heater was under your skin. This feeling was one that you didn't want to go away. Perhaps it was a spur of the moment and you wanted to take that advantage.
Whether you would regret it later or not, your body was telling you to do something that you couldn't ignore anymore- be bold. Be someone who'd you would always admire for the last three years and wondered: how could they? How could they put themselves out there and still receive gratitude and praise? Back then it seemed impossible, wrenching. Now, it was right in front of you. What you had saved yourself for as sought you out. Admired you even. Longed for you.
"I never knew you saw me that way," you say, taking another step forward until you were nearly falling over. The couch was pressed against the front of your knees, his hands gripping even more tightly.
"Since the first day, even when you were afraid."
"Why didn't you say anything?" You ask, bring a hand to run it through his hair, stopping at the back of his neck.
His head tilts up toward you, craning to get a better look at your features. "I was afraid that you wouldn't believe me unless you saw it for yourself first hand," he paused. "...and now I can show you."
"How?"
Suddenly, he is standing up, a quick movement that you barely register until it's over. "Do you trust me?"
You blink at him a few times, dumbfounded. "What?"
He pulls you close to him, bodies flush against each other. You grip the fabric of his shirt just like the night at the hotel, a grounding technique as you have come to learn of it. You swallow the lump forming in your throat, a gush of air leaving your lips into his neck. Hotch shivers, mouth just barely brushing your ear and all you can do is make desperate pleas to yourself.
"I want you," Hotch breathes into your ear, "And I need to know if you trust me enough to fulfill your own desires."
You stumble over your words, eyes screwed shut so tightly like they hurt. It was so hard being around someone who could so easily read you. You want this, and he can see it- sense it. "I trust you..."
He notices the hesitation in your voice, being a hand to latch around your neck and hold you tightly to him. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to."
"I know," you sigh, breathing in his scent of sandalwood and dusk. "I want you Aaron. All of you."
You look up at him, not wasting anymore time before latching your mouth to his in a perfect puzzle. It doesn't take long for him to respond, moving his mouth against yours in a synchronized motion so effortless it seemed rehearsed. Neither of you knew what was going to happen after this. There was an idea in your head but you weren't sure if you wanted to come to terms with having sex.
Of course you trusted him, more than anyone. Still the nervousness was arising. Hotch would stop if you'd ask, you figured that out your first night in the hotel when you kissed. There was something about the way he cared so much like coming up for fresh air. You continued to move against him, hand in his hair, tugging slightly at the roots.
His body falls back onto the couch with a thud, your body falling with his as your straddle his waist. His hands haven't moved from their placement in your hips, only getting more possessive as they tug at your skin. Your tongue swipes his lip as a question to access his mouth. Thankfully he obliged, opening up his light to allow you deeper.
"You're so beautiful," Hotch mumbles against your mouth. It wasn't hard to tell that he was itching to touch you further, remove some of the clothes still layered in your skin.
You disregard his comment but it still had an affect on you, making you moan softly into his mouth. You let go of your grip on his hair, moving your hands to the ends of your shirt. Just as you are about to pull it over your head, he stops you.
"Are you sure?" Hotchs breaths come out as heavy and he can barely speak correctly.
You nod rapidly. "Yes, I want to do this with you Aaron. I trust you more than anyone." You tilt your head to the side, lips attaching to his neck in an instant.
A heavy groan erupts from him. "I know that you haven't done this kind of thing-"
"I'm ready," you interrupt. "There is a first for everything and I'm deciding that right now is the time for me. Believe me."
He takes the words quickly into consideration, moving your hands away from your shirt and replacing them with his own. Pulling the thin cotton shirt over your head in an instant. A soft light is casted from the lamp in the corner of the living room next to the clock that had been ticking for what seemed forever. Cool air rushes against your skin, a shiver crawling up your spine mixed with heat.
Your chest was bare, up for him to see and you could feel the embarrassment creeping your neck. It wasn't that you hadn't been indecent in front of someone, you just always cared about what they thought: what if you weren't enough? You wrap your arms around yourself in an effort to cover up.
Aarons hands grip your wrists, placing soft kisses just below where his hands meet your skin. "You don't have to hide from me sweetheart, you're beautiful, believe me."
The way he throws your own words back at you makes a sense of security brush over you. Slowly, you dropped your hands, uncovering yourself once again for a man. Your lips attach to his once again, this time more rapid and desperate to feel each other in a competitive game of- who can establish dominance first? Your hands travel down to his shirt, pulling it over his head in the same movements he did for you.
There isn't any time to study his strength, too preoccupied with the way his mouth feels against yours: hot and impatient. The grip on your hips is steady.
"Aaron," you moan helplessly into his mouth, his hand reaching just under your breast to callous the skin.
"You're so soft," he breathes, "I've waited for you."
You allow him to flip you over until your back is on the couch and he is over top of you. The couch is big enough yet small in a sense. He made it seem so big and so intriguing that you didn't even begin to obsess over the location.
"I want you," you plead, "Please Aaron, you're all I want right now."
"Don't rush princess, everything will come soon enough," the softness in his voice made you sink further into the couch as you became more relaxed with his words.
Aaron moves from your mouth to under your jaw, nipping and sucking at the skin lightly, not enough to leave a mark. Shocks of pleasure travel through you and he hasn't even truly touched you. You don't even think before reaching for his belt buckle. He doesn't object as you begin to hurriedly unfasten it.
Even if he was right, you didn't have much experience when it came to intimacy, he made you feel safe in the revelation, comfortable and at ease even. Once you get his belt undone, you work in his zipper, tugging it down quickly as his kisses travel farther down your body until they are just above your belly button. It was hard with the position to get him to step out of his pants but he did, until he was only in his boxers.
Suddenly he stops, looking at you so seriously you want to shrink. "I want to make sure you're completely sure, sweetheart."
You take his free hand and lace it with yours, "I'm sure Aaron, do anything you want to me."
A flip is switched inside of him, a look of darkness finally taking over without any shame or remorse. His hands latch into your shorts and underwear, pulling them down in one swift moment. You're not scared for him to see you anymore. Personally, you wouldn't have it any other way now that you've already begun.
"You have the most amazing body I have ever seen," he whispers into your ear, taking in every inch of you.
Your cheeks flush a deeper red than they already are and you can't help but turn your head to the side. "Thank you," you whisper.
Seriously, he takes your chin between his fingers so that you look directly at him. "This might hurt, tell me at any point if you want to stop, yes?"
"Yes," you nod. You tell him that you have an IUD and are obviously clean. Aaron smirks and pulls down his boxers.
He's already hard, pre-cum coming from his tip and you can't help but have a sharp intake of breath. He was right, this was going to hurt. You were so painfully turned on that you didn't even care, you wanted him inside of you to fill your own void. You attempt to squeeze your legs together to gain some right of friction, however his hands or quicker, prying them apart with one hand.
Then it finally happens, he slowly begins to sink into you. Your hands grip his shoulders, pain erupting in your stomach and legs as you feel yourself being stretched out. It hurt, not to an unbearable point but it was definitely what your sister had described the night she first had sex.
"Does it hurt?" Aaron asks, trying to conceal the way pleasure wavers his voice into an octave.
Your face contorts with discomfort but you reply, "Kind of-" you breathe deeply, ready to contain your nerves and stop being so tense.
"I'll go slow, tell me when to stop if you need," he reminds you. You nod and run your nails down his back.
And so he moves, in and out of you slickly. At first it hurt, even burned, now it felt like pleasure was finally beginning to make its way in. You didn't know how to describe how it felt. He was going painfully slow and the slight discomfort wasn't seeming to go away.
Aaron leans over you, biting your shoulder lightly to contain his groans. "It still hurts," you practically gasp.
A hand runs over your forehead, pushing back your hair that is in a thin layer of sweat. "I know sweetheart, I'm sorry. Do you want to stop?"
"No, no- I just-" you stumble over your words, lolling your head to the side to allow him more access to your neck. "Keep going."
He obliged, slowly but surely picking up the pace as he moved. The pain was subsiding, the burn wasn't really there anymore and your mind was beginning to jumble into a million pieces. Like the nerve endings in your body were shot and you weren't thinking rationally anymore. You didn't know something could feel this good. Something between heat and severe lust was between the two of you.
As a moan leaves your mouth involuntarily, Aaron chuckles. He grabs your wrists, bringing them up above your hand with one hand, the other secure in your waist to prevent you from squirming.
"Shit," you curse, bringing a leg to wrap around him so he can't escape you.
"You feel so good," he chuckled darkly, pushing your wrist father into the couch underneath you.
As he continued, your mind went completely blank, too wrapped up in what you were feeling to care about anything else. Your eyes were shut so tightly that tears began to form. Aaron was quick to kiss your cheeks as they fell slowly.
The couch rocked on the floor, moving with your bodies in a synchronized motion. You were sure the wood floors would be scratched but Aaron didn't seem to care. His eyes were glued on your face, your mouth slightly agape, moans and curses falling from it, and your red cheeks. You dig your nails into the palm of your hands, ever so hopeless to have a sort of your own grounding while he pounds into you.
"You look so beautiful like this sweetheart," Aaron says, "Under me."
You laugh the best you could, opening your eyes to meet his. "We should've tried this sooner,"
He grumbled at your words, picking up the pass until he was practically slamming into you relentlessly. You were beginning to chase your own high, the knot in your stomach forming quickly and ready to unravel.
"I'm so close," you whisper, both legs now wrapped around him.
He hummed in response, "Come for me sweetheart,"
His words send you over the edge, body shaking as your orgasm takes over you. Your eyes rolled back, back arched off the couch as he fucks you through it. You could've sworn you saw stars in your vision and it lasted for so long- so long. It was nearly forty-five seconds of pure bliss, heaven on earth. Endless strings of moans shamelessly rolled off your tongue, practically screams of his name repeatedly.
It was so weird. Seeing how he could make you come undone during your first time having sex. You tried not to go into this with many expectations, but he exceeded the ones you would've had. Your nails dig so tightly into your palm that you draw blood.
Soon after, Aaron comes inside of you, pulling out slowly not to hurt you. He collapsed on top of your body, crushing you. Instead of it making you feel scared, you felt more safe with his body on top of yours, heavy breaths being shared between the two of you.
"Are you okay?" he asks, "You're bleeding."
You look down at your palms and laugh, "Yeah I'm okay Aaron."
"I'll be back," he announces, grabbing his boxers and pulling them over his hips. He grabs a blanket over the edge of the couch and covers your naked body seeing as how you were practically shivering with the cold air.
In the span of a minute, he goes into the kitchen grabbing a wet washcloth and a first aid kit. When he returns, he pulls you up so he can examine your hands more closely.
Neither of you speak as he tends to your wounds. Washing the blood off by dabbing the wet cloth on your skin, moving into the kit where you disinfect the crescent shapes despite not being exposed to infection. You laugh at how focused he looks. Wrapping some medical grade gauze around your hand before placing white tape to secure it.
"You don't have to do all of this you know? I could've just washed my hands and put a bandaid over it."
"No, I wanted to. You shouldn't have dug your nails that hard Y/N,"
"I need to, I didn't know what else to do."
He shakes his head, trying to conceal the smile obviously spreading his lips. "Don't do it again."
"Again?!"
-
A/N-
GAWD this is a huge chapter almost 5000 words, i've never written that much ever so hopefully it isn't that bad. But finally they banged ;)