Chapter 3
AN: Thanks for the reviews, folks. Having such fun with this! And Emzy?... oh emzypemzy... here is where your review hit the nail on the head!
About half the way through the movie, Derek asked, "So… what would your date have entailed if I hadn't shown up?" He grinned and added, "Besides Chocolat?"
He was watching her intently, so he caught her quick blush, no matter how she tried to hide it. Derek bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking. That little minx, so that's what she did in her alone time!
"Actually," she replied. "Chocolat wouldn't be on the list. A bottle of Pinot Grigio and a warm bubble bath would be instead."
"Really?"
She nodded against his shoulder, still watching the movie. "No thinking involved. Just pure relaxation."
"Hang on," he said, pushing himself to his feet. He wandered over to his bar and held up a bottle. "Is Johannesburg Riesling okay?"
"Sure," she replied, hitting pause on the remote as he wandered back with the bottle and a corkscrew dangling from his fingers. "Let me help you."
She uncorked the bottle, then stood and got two glasses. She poured a glass for herself, then one for him. She took a sip, then closed her eyes and groaned in appreciation.
For the second time tonight, Derek felt himself growing aroused. The first time, she was kneeling in front of him, and he couldn't stop thinking about her gorgeous red lips. He'd always loved her lips, pouty and full, they were completely wasted on an idiot like Lynch. He highly doubted Lynch had any idea what those lips could do.
Derek knew. He had no trouble at all imagining those lips wrapping around a lollypop, a popsicle…he'd seen it enough over the years. So much so, he'd fantasized about them, brushing against his skin, light feathery kisses, before they wrapped around-
"Derek. Aren't you going to sit?" she asked, looking up at him.
He quickly sat as he colored just a little bit.
About three more glasses of wine, and twenty five more minutes of movie, Derek was still thinking. He was feeling loopy, far more than he normally felt with wine. He had a good buzz going.
It also made him curious. "Penelope?"
"Hmmm?"
"You still want that bubble bath?"
She looked up at him, tilting her head to the right in a questioning gesture. "I'll take one when I get home tonight."
"Why not now?" he asked. "With me."
She gave him the look. "Derek-"
"No, I got the hot tub; that's like a big bubble bath." He grinned, and held her hand, kissing the palm.
"Morgan, I don't have a suit," she whined.
"Come on, sweetness. I bet it'll feel good against my shoulder." He knew it was a cheap ploy, but he thought it would be worth it!
She grumbled, "Okay, but I still don't have a suit."
"I got extras. Come on," he said, shutting the rest of Chocolat off and standing up.
Grumbling, she stood up and followed him to the mudroom off the back patio. He opened a box that was filled with assorted swimsuits and swim trunks. She wondered where he accumulated all of those, then stopped thinking about it. She didn't want to think she was wearing the suit of some hoochy momma Morgan talked into getting naked in his tub.
Grabbing his suit, he announced, "I'm going to the laundry room to change. You can have the bathroom."
"Okay," she said, fishing through the box. There were no one piece suits to be had. Each one was a bikini, all in rather tiny sizes. Towards the bottom, she found a top that was almost the right size, and a pair of swim shorts that she could use. She pulled them on, looked in the mirror and cringed. The top was hot pink, the bottoms olive green, and neither of them fit well.
"Ready?" he asked from the hallway.
Sighing, she stepped out. "Don't laugh."
Derek watched as she made it around the corner. Laugh? She had to be kidding! She was all legs and tits; there was nothing, absolutely nothing, to laugh at. He had to tear himself away from looking at her breasts; those fantastic things were nearly overflowing that top of hers, and he wanted to sink between them and never crawl back out.
For sanity's sake, he looked down at her legs. He'd never had a chance to really see her legs before. She always wore skirts, ones that were about knee length and so colorful, that was what he noticed when he looked. Now, standing there in a drab bottom, he couldn't help but stare. From her pink painted toenails, to her slender calves and plump thighs, she was about the closest thing to perfection a man like him could ever want.
"God, stop staring at my thunder thighs," she growled, "or I am turning around and going home."
Thunder thighs? She could've knocked him over with a feather. Derek never understood women. Why did they always think a man wanted hard legs that matched his own? Very few men he knew liked skinny legs. Curvy, tightly packed, with a little cushion on the inner thighs… that was the ideal, and that was what his Baby Girl had.
However, he'd learned, he couldn't tell a woman that from his sisters. They'd say, "Derek, do I look fat?" He'd respond in the negative, because they didn't ninety-nine percent of the time. The only time he could remember one of his family looking remotely fat was when his sister Sarah was pregnant; she gained ninety pounds with baby Gavin. He'd lied and said she didn't look fat, although she really did...kind of. Albeit, she was pregnant, so it was mostly baby. Woman was an absolute parade float, a complete circle and very emotional. Wisely, he'd kept quiet and earned Godfather status in the end.
So, he looked away, although he really wanted to ask her to turn around and pirouette slowly, so he could check out her ass. He had a feeling it would be perfection, if it matched the rest of what he was seeing. Derek was a typical t and a man, and was unapologetic about it. He loved curves, ample curves he could sink his hands into; he felt he should have them. He knew the women he dated liked hard chests and sculpted stomachs; he didn't fault them for wanting that, either.
Derek frowned. He wasn't sure if he was Penelope's type. She'd teased him about it for years about him being her sculpted god of chocolate, but when she had the choice, she went for the Stay-Puft® marshmallow man instead.
"I'll help you in," he said, clearing his throat so his voice sounded normal. He reached his good hand out, and she took it, walking up the stairs in front of him.
Derek bit back a groan. Yep. Perfect butt, too.
Once waist deep in water, she turned and smiled at him. "Maybe I should help you in?"
He snorted, took a step, then nearly tipped over. He was far loopier than he thought. She was there in a second with her arm extended. To his mortification, he took it, and walked into the tub, standing right next to her.
She sat down quickly while he eased into it. He could jump into cold water, no problem whatsoever, but hot water took him awhile. He was already hot most of the time, this just added fuel to the fire. Once he was used to it, he loved it.
They sat next to each other, relaxing, their heads leaned back against the edge. Pen sat in front of one of the jets, letting it pound against her low back. Derek sat in between a couple of them, just letting the circulating water soothe him.
After awhile, he asked a question. "What's next on your date night?"
She was laying back, her eyes closed. She opened one eye and answered, "That part you don't want to do."
"Try me," he said.
"It's silly."
"Tell you what," he said with a grin. "I'll make your alone date night perfect tonight, and you can come over tomorrow and make mine perfect. How's that?"
She smiled and nodded. "Okay. You asked for it then, Mr. Pushy."
He grinned. "I aim to please."
Raising her chin, she said, "I usually lie in bed and fantasize about the perfect man-"
"Nice that you think of me," he interrupted with a leer. She whacked his good arm, and he groaned, "Hey, be careful."
She grinned, too, and they were quiet, until he asked another question. "So, who is the perfect man, according to you? Who do you fantasize about?"
She looked thoughtfully at him, then answered honestly. "Really, it's not one particular person. It is certain parts-"
"Oh, that," he said with a wicked grin.
"No," she said, blushing. "Okay, I have thought about that part, but really… it's all sorts of parts."
"Tell me," he said. He had his feet raised on the edge of the seat across from them, and she had hers rested on his calves, because she couldn't reach the other seat.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, and he could tell she started picturing what she wanted in her head. "Long fingers. Not too hairy, and tapered, like a piano players." She turned her head to look at him and opened her eyes. "Hands fascinate me, D. There's something about capable, elegant, strong hands."
She felt his hand reaching for hers under the water. He threaded his long fingers through hers... his long, tapered fingers, with very little hair.
He raised her hand, letting the water drip, before kissing it. "Okay. Hands like Mozart. Got it. Go on, angel."
She closed her eyes again, and smiled. "A strong chest. Not too strong, like Arnold Schwarzenegger in his body building days. A nicely sculpted chest, like he has to work on it, but it doesn't take up his whole day."
"Hmmm," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "What about hair? Always wanted a woman's opinion; chests: hairy or not hairy?"
"A little hair. Not so much I'd get a mouthful if I licked it, but enough that it felt good brushing against me," she replied.
"What else?"
"A belly, arms and legs that say strong, but not overly strong," she breathed, then added quickly, "dusted with hair, too."
"Mmm hmm."
"And lips. Kissable lips. Thick, but not too thick. Fuller on the bottom lip than the top, with a nice little indent at the top of the upper lip. One that begs to be kissed," she said with a happy sigh and a stretch.
Penelope opened her eyes and smiled at him… and noticed his lips were full. Thick, but not too thick. And he had the perfect little indent. He had just a dusting of hair on his chest, arms and legs; his sculpted, but not too sculpted body.
Realizing then exactly what she'd done, exactly what, or rather whom, she'd been fantasizing about for two months, she whispered, "That would be the perfect man."
His voice was thick and the air was charged as he slowly moved towards her. "Got it."
