Getting them into the club is easy, all it takes is a casual touch and a brilliant smile, but figuring out which one of the mass of people inside is their guy is, however, a bit more difficult.
They find stools at the bar, and order drinks, before turning to watch the room. They’re careful to keep up the pretence of being a couple, and it takes a whole lot of effort on Bo’s part to hold back when she leans in to kiss him, using the move to hide her question. “Any sign of our guy?”
Agent Hotchner shakes his head, leaning forward so his lips almost touch the side of her neck, “Not yet, but it’s still early.”
Bo bites her lip to hold back a sigh. She’s jealous of Dyson, sat back in the surveillance van with Agent Jareau, Hotchner’s companion. Years on the run as a furtive killer made Bo very aware of the BAU and their standard operating procedure. It’s not all that common for then to only send two profilers to consult on a case this major, but she guesses that someone, somewhere, influenced that decision, considering the nature of the murders.
Hotchner knows about the fae, or at least she’s fairly sure he does, from the looks that passed between him and Dyson while they were discussing the case. Jareau doesn’t, and Bo’s grateful for that, in a strange way. The microphone fitted into Bo’s bra feels heavy, and the ear piece itches, but such is the cost of working a case the normal way apparently.
This particular fae bozo will be going to jail, so there is actually a trail to think about. It’s that thought that helps Bo keep a tight grip on her hunger. Later, she promises herself, when she won’t be on record.
Leaning back she smiles, moving her free hand to rest on his knee and giving it a quick squeeze before she turns her attention back to the dance floor; hopefully their guy will turn up sooner rather than later.
There’s a fight over the back, and she feels Hotchner tense before he turns towards the noise. It’s two young guys, faces flushed with drink, and Bo sighs, then takes a healthy swallow of her drink. Hotchner’s is a virgin, her’s isn’t, and she’s all too aware of the look he gives her.
Hotchner leans into her again, his breathe hot against the side of her neck, “It shouldn’t be too long now.”
Bo laughs lightly, letting her frustration show in her eyes, “Good.”
Hotchner smiles, just a little, resting his right hand on her leg briefly, though he’s careful not to touch bare flesh, and Bo pouts, shifting on the stool just a little. There’s a flash of something in his eyes before he turns his attention back to the dance floor.
Bo’s on her third by the time their guy appears. He looks normal, and if she hadn’t been told what to look for Bo’s not sure she would have spotted him. He screams ‘ordinary’ in a way that makes her teeth hurt.
She leans in to Hotchner, putting her drink down so she can press a hand against his stomach, holding herself so her lips are mere millimetres from his ear, “He’s here.”
Hotchner’s hand moves to the small of her back and he nods, his nose brushing her cheek, “Back left of the room.”
Bo leans back a little, listening as Dyson gives them a breakdown of what their backup is doing, she smiles at Hotchner as Dyson fails silent and meeting his gaze “Ready?”
The hotel room door is barely shut before Bo has Hotchner against the wall, burying her hands in his hair and kissing him hard enough to bruise. His hands are slipping up under her top and pulling her closer.
Bo feels the scab tear as she moves, feels the blood start to run down her arm, and she knows that he’s going to notice when it’s not there anymore, but she plans to be gone before they get to the awkward questions part of the evening.
Bo lowers her hands, taking a handful of Hotchner’s shirt and tugging him towards the bed. He stumbles a little, his hands dropping to her hips, and Bo laughs, leaning in for another kiss.
“You’re wearing too many clothes.” Bo grins, reaching for his belt, before changing her mind. He’s hard already. Bo presses the heel of her hand against him, rubbing and enjoying the way his eyes close as he groans, hips jerking. She leans forward, kissing his adam’s apple before tilting her head, licking along his collarbone to his shoulder, undoing his flies and slipping her hand inside.
She bites down as she closes her hand around him, and his hands find a grip on her hips as he groans. She sucks on the bite mark, while her thumb wipes pre-come down his length. Hotchner shifts back a little, breathing heavily, his hands sliding down her legs then back up, under her skirt, bunching it up around her hips. His right hand slides around her leg, then up, and he rubs his thumb over her through her panties.
Bo moans, tightening her grip on him, her back arching as he pushes the fabric of her panties to one side and fingers her. She braces her free hand against his stomach to stay upright, burying her face in the crook of his neck as he pushes his fingers in deeper, his thumb rubbing her clit at the same time.
She twists her hand, kissing his neck and arching up onto tip toe, pulling away from his hand. She lets go of him, pulling her hand out of his pants, ignoring his groan of complaint. She can feel her panties stretching as she kisses him, tasting him. There’s so much he’s been holding back, and she can feel it all, just waiting for her, and it’s exhilarating. She’s still in control, but she can’t entirely resist the temptation either. She closes her eyes, taking just enough to make his knees buckle. She catches him easily, stepping backwards and easing them both onto the bed.
Bo takes a moment to shift, pushing her panties down her legs, and kicking them off with her shoes. She can feel him watching her as he slips his own hand into his pants, fingers still slick from her. She grins, ducking her head as she pulls her top off. She doesn’t bother with the skirt or the bra, moving instead to roll him onto his back, tugging his hand out of his pants, and placing it on her hip as she straddles him.
He reaches up with his other hand, pulling her down and into a kiss, nipping at her bottom lip, while his hand moves from her hip, thumb running up her upper left arm. Bo stills, waiting for him to comment.
He pulls back from the kiss, smiling up at her, cheeks flushed, “Healed already?”
Bo frowns, starting to pull back, but he catches her, hand around her newly healed arm, “It’s ok, it only seemed fair, considering it was my plan that got you hurt.”
“You’re not fae.” Bo argues, even as she relaxes, idly undoing the buttons of his shirt, not knowing what else to do with her hands.
Hotchner smiles, stilling her hands, “I know enough to know a succubus when I see one.” He kisses a trail down, from the side of her mouth to the base of her neck, each one gentle, little more than the brush of his lips against her skin. Bo shivers a little, but she doesn’t let him distract her.
“How?” This is the one thing that could cost her her freedom, and she curses herself a little for not being able to resist her own hunger, and attraction.
He stills, expression turning serious, “I’m not going to arrest you Bo. You helped us.” He paused, brown eyes reading her expression, and Bo shivered again, blushing, feeling exposed. “The bouncer, after you touched him, the way he looked at you. That’s how I guessed.”
Hotchner shifts his hand to the inside of her thigh, thumb brushing against her but not moving. She’s thrown for a moment before she realises that he’s asking for permission to continue, and she’s almost tempted to pull away, to dress and leave. Almost.
“This conversation isn’t over.” She warns, before leaning down to kiss him hard, her hands on his shoulders. He huffs a laugh as she pulls away, nodding his understanding before he pushes his fingers into her, making her gasp.