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The bass in the club was pulsing, vibrating through the floor of the club, rattling the booth and running up your legs in the most delicious way. That —combined with the unhealthy amount of alcohol coursing through your blood—was making you feel some type of way.
And Hotch—your incredibly sexy boyfriend—was not helping.
He was wearing that outfit—the navy button down with the black slacks—that drove you crazy. His top three buttons were undone and his sleeves were rolled up, which in your—very drunk—opinion, was the sluttiest thing he could’ve done.
You were having a time undressing him with your eyes and you had only one thing on your mind…
Luring him out of the club—that you had drug him to—so that you could jump his bones.
He was well aware of your lecherous attention, and kept giving you these smug, knowing little smirks that told you he knew exactly what was going on inside your head.
Which only drove you wilder.
Emily, Derek and Penelope were still plying you with alcohol, but you were still standing, as well as speaking coherently, so Hotch didn’t feel it necessary to intervene… yet.
In fact…
He was egging you on.
Letting his eyes trail the length of your body, tracing your curves and lingering in his favorite places. He was getting exactly the reaction he wanted from you… the way your eyes followed his every move, the way you kept licking your lips and shifting in your seat… all things you did when you were seconds away from begging him to take you home.
And he so badly wanted to take you home…
You looked incredible tonight.
That little black dress was just begging to be abandoned on his bedroom floor and he couldn’t wait to oblige it.
You were biting your cheek, just to keep all the filthy thoughts you were having about him on the inside, instead of letting them roll off your tongue.
But it was no easy feat.
Until you realized you didn’t have to speak to get your point across.
Texting was a thing.
Correction.
Sexting was a thing.
You gave him a slow, seductive (pronounced: “depraved” ) smile and picked your phone up off the table top. Holding it under the table—where only you could see the screen—you found his name at the top of your recent messages list and typed out every little thought going through your head.
The way you’re looking at me is making me wanna climb you like a tree, and if you don’t stop, I will come over the table and straddle you like a pony.
He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and threw you a curious glance. However, Rossi was telling him a long and detailed story, and Aaron was too polite to pull out his phone in the middle of a conversation.
Which irked you slightly—you wanted his attention in its entirety—so you sent another message.
I just wanna sink my teeth into your goddamn forearms. Why are they so hot? That’s entirely unreasonable.
The second buzz earned you another glance, and his hand slipped beneath the table to free it from his pocket. He laid it on the table top, not yet looking at it. Not when Rossi was still so animated about his story. Even if Aaron wasn’t really listening. The text messages were not tempting enough for him to be rude… yet.
And you took that as a challenge.
Do you think the others would notice if I slipped under the table and sucked you off? No one is paying any attention to me right now… if they noticed I was gone, you could just say I went to the bathroom. I bet you’d like that… wouldn’t you? Having my mouth around you, with no one the wiser.
He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to know, so he tipped the phone up where he could just catch a glimpse of the screen.
He didn’t quite react the way you’d expected though…
Instead of a heated glance, he threw you a wide eyed—slighlty panicked—one.
‘Behave.’ He mouthed at you from across the table.
You scoffed.
He’d never been shy about sexting in public before, but maybe it was because—if either of them leaned even an inch further in his direction—Dave and JJ had a very clear view of his phone screen.
He should’ve known better than to tell you to behave though, because it only made you want to misbehave . Which is exactly what you did.
Take me home and fuck me on every sturdy surface.
He shot you another warning glance, which you returned with a wink and one final text… one that you knew would lure him out of the booth and have him following you to the parking lot.
If you don’t answer me in the next sixty seconds I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands… literally… in the bathroom with my skirt around my waist and my hand between my thighs.
“Jesus Christ, who is blowing up my phone?!” Derek swore suddenly from where he sat between Penelope and JJ.
“I was just about to say the same thing!” Prentiss exclaimed, elbowing Spencer and leaning into Rossi to free her own phone, as Derek did the same.
You realized your mistake immediately and made horrified eye contact with Aaron, who was giving you a very smug look that seemed to crow: I told you to behave…
But it was much too late….
Everyone was checking their phones now.
Even Dave, but Hotch did you the decency of stealing Dave’s—who was like an uncle to you—phone out of his hands.
When the man protested, Aaron simply said, “Trust me, you don’t wanna look.”
You had already sunk so far down into your seat that only the top of your head was visible over the table—and were in the process of plotting your own death—when Derek busted out laughing.
“No fucking way!” He gasped through his laughter.
“Damn, girl!” Emily chimed in. “I don’t know what was in your drink, but it must’ve been good.”
“There’s no sense in hiding now, sweetheart, the damage is done. You’ll have to face them on Monday.” Aaron teased, smugly from above the table.
“Not if I die of embarrassment right here under this table…” You croaked.
“Wow… that is… graphic.” Spencer chimed awkwardly.
“If she sent that in public, imagine what she says to him in private… Our girl is a freak!” Penelope giggled.
You groaned loudly.
You were going to die, right here on the floor, under this table.
An entirely undignified way to go, but you did not care as long as you never had to look any of them in the eyes ever again.
“Ride em’ cowgirl.” JJ joked, sending everyone but you, Dave—who didn’t have the context needed to get the joke—and Aaron, though you were sure he was biting his lip to stop himself, into fits of laughter that were loud enough to be heard all across the club.
And you had to admit… it was kind of funny… but that didn’t stop your cheeks from burning hotter than the sun.
“Whatever that was, delete it. I don’t wanna know.” Dave muttered.
“Already done.” You heard Aaron say.
“Oh come on, it's not like you sent us a nude…” Prentiss reasoned. “We already know you two are doing it. I’ve drunk texted worse to my own mother.”
“Oh yeah!” Penelope agreed. “I think I’ve sent worse than that to Derek in the group chat on purpose! While sober!”
“That’s different!” You called out.
Not letting them coax you out of the shadows of the underside of the booth for anything!
“If you come out, I’ll buy everyone another round, and you won’t even be able to remember… whatever it is that you said… in the morning. And everyone will delete it off their phones.” Rossi so kindly offered.
The others all groaned and booed him but you appreciated the offer.
“Oh, no. She’s never living that down.” Derek teased. “But we’ve all done it… or worse.”
“It’s true, honey.” Aaron said and then joked, “If you come out I’ll let you see what Morgan sent me a few months ago…”
“Oh come on man! You said you deleted that!” Derek protested.
That got your attention. Derek would be the one who would hound you relentlessly over this.
You peeked over the top of the table, only your eyes showing. Aaron had given you the leverage you felt you needed. And you knew he’d done it on purpose.
“We will never speak of this again.” You bargained with Derek, “And I’ll make Aaron delete whatever you sent him. Deal?”
He sighed.
“Deal.”
“Shake on it!” You demanded.
He reached across the table and you climbed back up into your seat, reached across the table and shook his hand.
“My offer still stands.” Rossi reminded everyone, “Delete the messages and I’ll buy another round.”
Everyone but Aaron pulled out their phones and started deleting the messages.
You raised a brow at him, expecting him to follow suit.
“The messages were meant for me to begin with, why would I delete them?” He asked, giving you a smug look that told you he was going to reread those messages… Over and over and over.
“Fair enough.” You shrugged.
You’d make him delete Derek’s later… If he didn’t piss you off before the night was over.
But from the look Aaron was giving you…
The night out… was about to turn into a night in.
Which was what you wanted all along.