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A Little Fantasy

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Emily’s been sitting at the bar, nursing the same martini, for 45 minutes. She knows another drink would ease the nervous tension twisting the pit of her stomach, or that nagging feeling in the back of her brain that she’s been stood up. Instead, she sits and waits, tip of her index finger circling the lip of the glass, one eye on the door, the other desperately trying not to look at her watch.

But, Emily didn’t do all this - drive an hour out of DC, pay close to a grand for a suite, choose the right dress, the right heels, spend an hour in her room on her hair and makeup - to sit alone at the bar. She’s been here long enough that people are starting to.. notice her. She can feel their eyes on her, wondering, waiting for the right moment (chased down with a lot of liquid courage) to see if Emily wants to be alone. If she’s looking for a little one night stand, no strings attached company.

That’s exactly what Emily’s waiting for. And no one here, no one watching and waiting for her to give the signal that she’s ripe for the taking fits the bill.

She gazes down at her glass, notices how her thumb is rubbing against the gold band wrapped around her ring finger.

This is not an affair, she reminds herself. Emily Prentiss is *not* the other woman.

She inhales, slowly closing her eyes to quell the urge to look at her watch once more, to reach into her purse for her cell to see if anyone’s called. It’s then that she feels it, a presence at her back. Warm. Standing intimately close. Her eyes snap open. There’s a mirror behind the bar, to give the room the illusion of more space, and Emily locks eyes with the reflection of the person standing behind her. Swallows nervously at the blue eyes gazing almost predatorily through the strands of dark hair cascading over her eyes.

“I’d ask what a woman like you is doing in a place like this,” she almost whispers, her lips a hair’s breath from the shell of Emily’s ear. “But we already know the answer to that.”

“I..” Emily pauses from the sudden and nervous skip of her heart. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Trust me..” she leans in even closer, breasts brushing against Emily’s bare back, lips curling into a seductive smile. “I have every intention of coming.”

With that, she steps away, sliding onto the seat next to Emily, making sure to leave one arm draped over the back of Emily’s seat. Her intent clear – this is mine. Within seconds, the bartender is there, sliding a drink before her, like this isn’t her first one. Emily leans on an elbow, eyes narrowing.

“How long have you been here?” Emily asks.

She takes a long, slow and dramatic sip of her cocktail. Through the curtain of black hair obscuring her features, Emily can see the corner of her lips pulling into the slightest of smiles. “Long enough,” finally says, setting down her drink and turning her face towards Emily.

The answer doesn’t quite appease Emily. She narrows her eyes a little more, then takes a darting glance around the bar. There are shadows, hidden corners and Emily realizes during all this time, when Emily was watching the door, she was watching Emily. This, this game they’re playing, was all Emily’s idea. Emily created the rules, established the boundaries. While the hair isn’t Emily’s idea, everything else is. Even the suit she’s wearing - black, tailored to her every curve, with a crisp, white blouse underneath - Emily paid for. And she’d probably balk if she knew just how much Emily had paid for that suit.

And it’s all working, this plan, this game that was Emily’s idea. If she was hesitant at first, she’s playing the role even better than Emily could have imagined. They’ve moved on to small talk, and every word from her mouth drips with innuendo. She is confident, cocky, even. All take and no give, and Emily’s not sure if she’s ever been so turned on.

“So,” she says, and with the arm still draped over the back of Emily’s chair, grazes her fingertips across the skin of Emily’s back. “You ready to tell me your name?”

Emily brings her drink to her lips, she’s not nursing them anymore. Bats her eyelashes. “I thought you didn’t do names?”

“True.” She shrugs with her head, then smiles, leans a little closer, blues practically growing through bangs hanging over them. “You ready for me to make you scream?”

The breath Emily exhales is warm, like she’s venting the sudden buildup of heat within her.

She slides off her stool, leans close, practically purring into Emily’s ear. “I guarantee you won’t be disappointed.”

Emily wants to be sly, cool, as she slides off her own stool, but it takes everything within her to not run after the woman already exiting the bar.

The ride in the elevator takes forever, and Emily curses herself for renting a suite on the 15th floor. They stand side by side. Emily, holding her purse, fingertips worrying nervously against each, as she leans against the far wall, arms folded over her chest, that cocky, seductive grin on her face.

They reach Emily’s room, and Emily’s hands are actually shaking as she slides her key card into the lock, only to realize she’s slid it in backwards.

That’s when she moves, slides up behind Emily, chest to Emily’s back, hands possessively placed on the swell of Emily’s hips, her crotch against Emily’s ass. That’s when Emily feels it. That other thing Emily asked her to wear.. for Emily. How Emily didn’t notice, how anyone was able to not notice with those tight, tailor-made slacks.

She leans in closer, nose nuzzling against the base of Emily’s neck. “You are exquisite,” she whispers, curving her hips just enough to apply the slightest bit of the right kind of pressure, making Emily’s eyes flutter closed and her mouth to go slack. “Has anyone ever told you that? Just..” she rolls her hips a little harder. “Absolutely beautiful.”

Just when Emily’s about to abandon all thoughts of opening the door and letting her take Emily right then and there in the hallway, she opens the door. Everything happens in a rush. They enter the space. There’s the slamming of the door behind them. The sensation of spinning as Emily’s twirled around. The rush of air leaving her lungs as she’s pushed hard against a wall.

Then, her tongue is jutting into Emily’s mouth, swirling against the roof. Her hands are everywhere, caressing Emily’s neck, cupping her breast, hiking up her skirt, sliding between her legs. Emily’s groans when she feels those fingers pushing, pressing, sliding against her.

“Good thing you‘re not wearing any panties,” she giggle-purrs, running her tongue along Emily’s pulse point before taking a healthy nip. “Tell me what you want?”

“You know what I want,” Emily groans, lifting a thigh and draping it over her hip.

“I do,” she says, pulling her face away so their eyes can meet, lips spread into that cocky grin. “I just want to hear you say it.” She removes her hand, grips Emily’s thigh as she juts her hips forward, rolls hard and deep against Emily‘s crotch. “Say it.”

“I..” Emily swallows hard. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Do you, now?” she says with another deep swerve of her hips.

“Quit teasing!”


“Fuck you!” Emily laughs.

“Yes, ma’am,” she says, already reaching between them. The sound of a zipper going down enough to make Emily’s insides tremble. Emily clenches in anticipation at the feel of the tip at her opening. The quick jutting of hips and Emily cries out, hands finding purchase on her shoulders, nails digging into the jacket.

It’s all so perfectly debauched. The jut of hips. Nails digging in back. Perfectly timed groans in the other’s ear. Emily doesn’t want it to end. Except, already, she can feel the tension growing within her, all that endless anticipation, the planning, the dreaming. Like that first time.. all over again.

“Please,” Emily breathes heavily.

Just like that, she withdraws. Before Emily can catch her breath, realize what’s happened, she whipped around, her face to the wall, hands grabbing her at the wrists and pushing them up the wall. Her feet are kicked apart, just a little, just enough for Emily to do her part - jut out her hips. Emily groans throatily as the phallus, once again, slips inside her.

She’s a little slower this time, pushing all the way in, pulling almost all the way out. Her lips against Emily’s ear, her breath hot and wet with each push of her hips. She was wrong. It’s not Emily who’s exquisite but her. And the thrill of it, the feel of her inside Emily, pressing Emily against the wall, is enough to send Emily reeling towards the edge.

Just like that, like she *knows* Emily, she snakes her hand between Emily’s body and the wall.

“Beautiful,” she whispers, fingers pressing against Emily’s clit. “So fucking beautiful.”

That’s it. That’s all it takes, all Emily needs. And she’s careening, caterwauling as her hands curl, nails scratching the paint, as her body twitches and convulses.

Soon, she slows. The rock Emily thrashes against until she stills to a panting dead calm. Lips to Emily’s neck, arm still wrapped around Emily’s stomach, because Emily still feels as if her knees could give out at any moment, she withdraws. Emily groans her protest. This feels too good to end so quickly.

“Can you stand?” she whispers gently.

Emily nods her hand. A bit wobbly, but she finds her footing. Then feels the arm around her waist withdrawing as she increases the space between them, stepping back. Emily turns around, leans against the wall for support.

She stands there, close but far enough away that Emily can feel the air on her skin. One hand planted palm flat against the wall by Emily’s head. There’s this look in her eyes, amazed, achingly hungry. She brings her fingers to Emily’s mouth, watches them as she grazes her fingers over Emily’s lips, trails them down her neck, lower still until she’s cupping Emily’s breast, thumb trailing over the erect nipple straining Emily’s dress.

She lifts her eyes, staring at Emily through the curtain of dark hair falling over her forehead. “Do you know what’s going to happen next?” She pauses, gently squeezing Emily’s nipple, watching as Emily sucks the corner of her lower lip between her teeth, eyes fluttering as she shakes her head no. “You’re going to go into the bedroom. You’ll take off that dress, leaving the heels on. Then, you’re going to get on the bed. And do you know what’s going to happen next?” Emily shakes her head. She smiles, leaning in. “I’m going to eat your pussy. I’m going to tongue fuck you so hard you’ll wish you knew my name so you can scream it.”

Emily’s mouth goes slack, eyes going dark, hooded. An engine stuck in fifth and she’s running hot. Emily reaches out, fingers grabbing at the lapel of the woman’s jacket, tugging her in for a kiss. She pulls away, eyebrow lifting as she cants her head.

“Uh-uh, you want me?” she shakes her head slowly, smiling as she removes Emily‘s hand from her jacket and takes a step back. “You know what to do.”

Emily takes a moment, to catch her breath, to find a little more strength in her legs, to find the resolve to not beg this woman to fuck her senseless right here, right now. Again.

Instead, she pushes herself from the wall. Finds her legs, finds enough of her swagger to sway her hips as she walks towards the bedroom. She takes a passing glance backwards, can see her following, already zipped up and tucked away, looking immaculate compared to Emily’s freshly-fucked disarray.

Inches from the mattress, Emily turns around. She strips quickly, maybe a little too eagerly. Because she’s just standing there, leaning against a wall, arms folded over her chest, and Emily wants her. Wants her now.

“Well?” Emily says, raising her own expectant eyebrow.

She points with a slight nod of her head. “All the way on the bed.”

Emily trembles at the sudden shiver running down her spine. She has a pretty good idea what’s about to happen next, but it’s that little hint of the unknown that causes her to tremble, clenches at her insides. Emily turns back around, climbs onto the bed, seductively crawls catlike towards the headboard. She smiles at her dream woman’s sudden and very vocal hitch of breath.

Situating the pillows first, Emily rolls onto her back. Dares her fingers to move towards her breasts, tips playing with the nipples.

“Raise your knees.” She walks towards the bed, unbuttons then peels out of her jacket, dropping it to the floor. “Higher,” she almost whispers, face muscles twitching, like the façade she’s worn so immaculately could crack at any moment. “Now spread yourself open for me.”

Had it been anyone else, Emily would have balked. Hell, they wouldn’t have even made it past the entrance to the bar. But it was *her*, asking Emily to do this - open herself, fully, completely, baring not just her sex but her soul. Emily can feel her heart racing, skin warming even hotter than before, a heat that pools generously between her opened legs, flushing even deeper her still tingling and aching sex.

She steps towards the bed, tongue surreptitiously poking the corner of her parted lips. Her gaze is focused, hungry with intent, and she’s not looking at Emily’s eyes. She climbs onto the bed, then just descends, quickly, hungrily, wide open clamping her mouth onto Emily’s pussy like she’s trying to consume it whole. Emily cries out at the sudden attack, can do nothing but hold on to the sheets. Her tongue, her lips, they’re everywhere, licking, suckling, stroking and prodding. She pulls on Emily’s labia with her lips, then suckles her clit, then pushes her tongue deep into Emily’s cunt, swirls it, curls it, then pulls back out. On the surface, it’s uninhibited, but there’s something calculatingly torturous about her movements. She never stays in one place too long, never allows Emily to find a rhythm that will send Emily over the edge. Until Emily’s thrashing about on the bed, gasping and groaning, straining, rolling her hips in desperation.

“Jennifer,” Emily pleads in a hoarse whisper. “Please.”

She chuckles, lifting her head, smiling all wet lips and sticky chin. “I thought we said no names?”

Before Emily can answer, she’s climbing over her. And Emily’s tasting herself as their mouths meet, as her tongue slithers and slides all over Emily’s. Then, she’s ghosting her lips over Emily’s face, kissing Emily’s forehead, her eyes, her cheeks. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, brushing her nose against the side of Emily’s. “So beautiful.”

Then, she’s reaching between them, and Emily groans as she’s slowly penetrated, draping her calves over her hips, hooking her ankles together as her hands find purchase on her back. She’s slower this time, less forceful and, already, it’s driving Emily crazy. Emily knew a long time ago she’d do anything for this woman. That she would do the same for Emily? Every emotion she could feel seems to have turned into a sensation streaking across every nerve ending. She wants to come, so badly, but she doesn’t want this to end.

“Hey,” she whispers into Emily’s ear, not breaking her stride. “Rub your clit for me. I want to watch you come.”

Like Emily would refuse her anything.

She shifts her weight, lifting enough to create some space between them. Which Emily reaches between, placing three fingers to her swollen, sensitive clit. Emily tries to hold on, tries to make it last, but it’s not long before she’s howling, eyes snapping shut as the paroxysm hits. The cock inside her, easing in and out, riding Emily for every aftershock and tremble, until Emily’s nothing but a spent and boneless mass, panting on an expensive hotel mattress.

It’s the loss of warmth Emily feels first, the shifting of the mattress as her partner in crime removes herself from the bed. Languidly, Emily opens her eyes, finds enough strength to roll onto her side.

JJ stands close to the edge of the bed, peeling out of the remainder of her clothes. Emily wrinkles her nose in disappointment as JJ unbuckles the harness around her hips and lets it fall to the floor.

“Nice touch, by the way,” Emily says as JJ pulls the black wig off her head. “Where’d you get it?”

“It’s Penelope’s,” JJ grins.

“Oh no,” Emily groans. “You didn’t..”

“Tell her?” she chuckles. “Hell no! Unfortunately,” she pauses, lifting Emily by the ankle and removing her heel. “Penelope’s a pretty smart woman and, judging by her reaction, I’m pretty certain she figured it out the second after I asked.”

Crashing her head into the pillow, Emily drapes her arm over her face. “I’m going to have to quit the BAU. That’s all there is to it. Maybe move to the Ukraine.”

Emily’s shoes removed, JJ climbs back, pulling the sheets up with her. “C’mon, it’s Penelope. If it wasn’t for her, there’d be no Mrs. and Mrs. Prentiss-Jareau.”

Emily removes the hand draped over her eyes. “That’s Jareau-Prentiss.”

“I thought I was the pushy one tonight.” She leans down, presses her lips to the corner of Emily’s mouth. “If I’d known unscrupulous and horny hedge-fund managers turned you on this much, I’d have bought a power suit years ago. Which, by the way, you paid too much for and I’d spank you if I wasn’t afraid you’d like it.”

“Screw you, Mrs. Jareau-Prentiss,” Emily laughs.

“I did. I do. And I will,” JJ grins, going in for another kiss. “Once you recover.”

“I did book for the entire weekend.”

“Unscrupulous and horny hedge-fund manager is more of the ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am’ type. Unless..” she pauses to narrow her eyes, “there are crepes involved. Are there crepes involved? Will there be crepes involved?”

“I don’t know, maybe we should go back to the bar, start this all over again since you don’t do names. Speaking of which, how long were you down there?”

“At the bar?” JJ’s smile broadens. “I walked in right behind you. Some profiler you are,” she teases with a poke of her finger. “Actually, I was surprised I made when I did. The sitter was late and I was kind of in a hurry. You don’t know embarrassment until you’re pulled over for speeding while wearing a strapon.”

“You didn’t?”

“A strapon *and* a wig. Luckily, she let me off with a warning.”

“She?” Emily tilted her head.

“Yeah. It’s not just Penelope who knows what we’re up to. Except, Penelope never flashed her light on my crotch and get the visual of me packing something besides a gun.”

“Oh my God,” Emily kisses JJ’s cheek. “My poor baby.”

“Poor baby’s right. I haven’t been that embarrassed since the time back when I was fourteen and my Mom walked in on me masterbating to lesbian porn. Talk about an awkward month in the Jareau household. To this day you can‘t say the word juggling around my Dad without him doing a Hail Mary. And we‘re not even Catholic.”

By now, Emily’s laughing so hard tears are streaming down her eyes.

“Hey!” JJ squeaks. “It’s not funny.”

“Trust me, sweetie. I wouldn’t describe walking in on you while you’re masterbating as humorous. Your mother having to explain it to your father, on the other hand.. and no pun intended.”

“So this is the thanks I get for dressing up and rocking your fantasy world. Jokes!”

“Aww,” Emily pauses just enough to let her laughter subside to a giggle. “If you couldn’t tell, yes, you were incredible. And, yes, I’m very, very grateful. Better?”

JJ feigns offense. “Maybe.”

“And now that you’ve fulfilled a fantasy of mine..” Emily shifts, wrapping her arm around JJ’s waist, rolling the two until she’s on top. “I am ready, willing and able to fulfill all of your fantasies.”

“You already have. You know, the moment I asked and you said yes.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I!”

“You’re honestly telling me, after all this time, there still isn’t something you want me to do for you? Something you‘ve never asked of me before?”

JJ narrows her eyes, corner of her lip sliding nervously between her teeth. “Well..”



JJ quickly slides her key into the door. She hates being late, the last one home. Tonight, she’s even later than usual. Strange since she and Emily work at the same place but things happen.

The quiet stops JJ in her tracks. There’s no faint scent of the dinner she missed. No toys strewn about in the hallway for her to avoid stepping on. The house doesn’t seem just quiet, it appears empty.

She makes her way towards the hallway, stopping at the first door, the one with pages splashed with finger paint taped to it, a placard with the name ‘Henry’ glued to the front. She quietly opens the door. The room is empty, the bed tidily made up, the toys neatly put away.

JJ frowns, turns her head towards the back of the hallway. The door to the bedroom is crack, dim light spilling out. She should have remembered if Emily’s car was in the driveway, she should have remembered Emily mentioning taking Henry somewhere.

“Hello?” JJ calls out. “Emily?”

“You’re late,” a stern voice calls back to her.

JJ ignores the tone, smiling as she makes her way towards the bedroom. “Where’s Henry?”

“He’s with his grandmother.”

“You know, she’s going to spoil him rotten..” The door swings open and JJ stops dead in her tracks.

Emily stands in the doorway. She stands in leather, knee high boots, a leather skirt, matching corset, a golden and gilded breastplate adorning her chest. “I said,” Emily growls, tightening her grip on the handle of her whip. “You’re late.”

“Yes..” JJ swallows hard, licking her lips. “Xena.”

“That’s Warrior Princess to you,” Emily grins.

“How’d you..” JJ wags a finger at the outfit. It’s not some store bought costume, the leather is real, hand made. “Get that on by yourself?”

“I..” Emily cocks an eyebrow. Leans in, stealing a kiss. “Have many skills.”

“Mmm,” JJ purrs, hands sliding around Emily’s waist. “And how long is Henry going to be at his grandmother’s?”

“All weekend.”

“Oh thank God.” JJ kicks the door behind her. In a rush, she’s all over Emily, kissing, groping, pulling at her own clothes before they hit the edge of the mattress and JJ shoves Emily down onto it, pouncing. “Because in this outfit? There’s definitely more than one thing I want you to do to me.” She goes in for another kiss, lingering before coming up for air. “And we’re definitely going to need *all* weekend.”

“JJ?” Emily manages to mumble between the rain of kisses. “I love you.”

JJ pauses, leans back to meet Emily’s eyes, coy grin spreading across her lips. “If you’re willing to dress in this just for me, it must be. And just for the record,” her smile goes soft, tender as she grazes her fingertips across Emily’s lips. “I love you, too.”