Chapter 7

AN: Thank you so much for the reviews. I am a bit late posting; I had my daughter's first communion yesterday (It was awesome!), so I didn't get a chance to post. Sorry about the wait...So, here we go...On with the story!...

With all the courage she had inside her, she stood outside Derek Morgan's door and raised her hand to knock. Tonight would be a big night for her—the biggest in her life to date—if all went well. Tonight, she was going to employ everything Derek had taught her, the best she could possibly do it. Tonight was the game changer.

Tonight, she was going to seduce Derek Morgan.

He opened the door with a smile, a dishtowel thrown over his shoulder. "Hey, sugar. I was just doing up some dishes." He gave her a wry grin. "I didn't feel much like washing them when I got home last night."

"Oh," she said, walking in past him. "What were you up to?"

He shrugged noncommittally. "Nothing much. Went with Hotch for some drinks."

She smiled and took off her jacket, watching carefully for his reaction. She was wearing a dark burgundy sweater dress with a deep cut neckline that showed a hint of cleavage. It was soft and beautiful, and made her feel sexy just wearing it.

"Pretty dress. Is it new?"

Penelope felt a little deflated. He was simply smiling at her, no different than his usual response. She'd been hoping she'd see something different, something that would bolster her courage, but he didn't give it to her. God, she hoped she—Emily and JJ, too—wasn't wrong.

Last night, she'd decided to put all of her effort into being where she felt she truly belonged: with Derek, in his arms, in his bed, and in his heart. She'd realized she cared far more about Derek being angry than she was about any response she was getting from Gavin.

That was nothing new; it had always been like that for her. She'd run to Derek when she had problems, never to Kevin or anyone else she'd dated. She shared her fears with him, and he'd helped her and held her. No one could console her like Derek did.

Not only that, she shared her dreams with Derek, and he let her believe just about anything was possible. She knew he'd move heaven and earth to help her accomplish those dreams. Derek's opinion mattered more to her than anyone else's. He was that important to her.

But now, she worried that it was her own wishful thinking. She was in love with him. She felt that way, but maybe he didn't. Was she seeing things that she wished, instead of what was reality?

She shook that feeling off. She didn't have time to second guess or doubt herself. It was now or never. She'd come here to seduce Derek, and she wasn't going to leave until she'd done it.

"Oh, it's uber soft," she said, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Wanna feel?" She held her arm out to him.

"Oh, hell, no." Derek pulled her into his arms, enveloping her in a tight hug, and let his hands run over her back. "This is the proper way to feel that dress."

She smiled coyly and looked up at him through her lashes. "I have to agree."

She thought she saw something, a flash of surprise, but then he released her rather abruptly. She cringed internally; she'd broken one of Derek's basic seduction rules: too much, too soon. She'd have to be more cautious with the rest of her plans tonight!

"Have a seat," he said, gesturing to the couch. "Coffee's brewing. Want a cup?"

She slipped off her heels, slowly revealing a long flash of her legs. She knew he was watching; she could feel his eyes. She stood back up, glancing at him with just a hint of a smile on her lips, and started walking over to the sofa. "I'll take a glass of red wine, if you have it?"

"Of course I do," he said with a hoarse voice, and then coughed a little. He turned and left the room. Derek kept a bottle of her favorite red at his house at all times, just like she had his brand of beer in her fridge. It was their unspoken rule.

It was a pleasing sight when he came out of the kitchen, holding two glasses and a bottle of wine. He set the glasses down, and then pulled the cork on the bottle.

He arched a brow at her. "Think it matters if it doesn't breathe?"

"Probably," she answered thoughtfully, and then added with a wicked grin, "but I'd still like a glass."

She held her goblet, watching as the dark ruby liquid filled the glass. It was highlighted by the warmth and brightness of the fire. The crackling logs were the only sounds in the room for a long time. The warmth of the fire, along with the earthy spice of the wine, was lulling her into relaxation.

She was watching the fire, the orange, red, yellow, bluish colors licking at the logs, and was feeling rather hypnotized by it, when Derek's somewhat sharp tone broke her out of her repose.

"I'm teaching you how to seduce Richards into your bed."

When she turned to look at him, he was already staring at her. He looked like he'd been watching her for a long while. He'd snapped that sentence at her; she hoped he wasn't offended that she was so relaxed and sleepy.

Self-consciously, she brushed a long tendril of blonde hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, took another sip of wine, and said, "Yes, that's right."

"So, how do you two get started?" Derek asked, his tone bland, but non-offensive. "Does he take you out to dinner?"

"Yeah."

"He takes you out for dinner—and your favorite pinot, of course—and you're feeling all good and mellow." He smiled at her, slow and seductive, pulling her under his hypnotic spell, so much stronger than the fire. "All the way home, he's telling you how gorgeous you look, how he'd like to touch what you got goin' on under that angel soft fabric. You're knowing tonight's the night…your body and your mind are humming, primed for more…"

He paused to take a sip of his wine, and she watched as the firelight danced in his dark eyes, his long lashes blocking just enough of his thoughts to entice her. The more he spoke, the closer he leaned to her, drawing her into his web.

She wanted to hear him tell her more of this story, knowing the whole time Gavin would never make her feel like that. Only one man could do that to her.

He sat up straighter, after another sip of wine, and said, "Okay, you get to the house. What does he do next? Start a fire?"

"Well, we usually watch a fire," she said with slightly wistful look at his fireplace. "It's a DVD of a crackling fire, but it's still nice."

Derek gave her a quirky grin. "Ol' Richards doesn't have a fireplace, huh?"

"Nope, he doesn't," she answered with a shrug, smiling internally at the smug look of superiority on D's face. She thought that was a good sign, that he was one upping Gavin, even if it was in his subconscious thinking.

"What's next?"

"We sit on the couch, like this," she said, moving a touch closer to Derek, "and then he puts his arm around me."

Sliding his arm around her shoulders, he asked, "What do you do next?"

She'd thought the fire was warm, but Derek's body heat pressed against her side was far warmer. He was toasty; she wanted to crawl into his lap and let him hold her.

"I move closer," she said.

"Then do it," he commanded, reaching for her. "We have to do it to get you ready for this. Come on...closer than that...a bit…that's good. Perfect."

She was pressed tightly against him, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, her breast touching his ribcage. He was looking intently at her, waiting for her next move.

"I usually touch him," she said, feeling flustered and hot, being so close to him.

"Touch me," he murmured, still looking at her with those dark, unreadable eyes.

Despite her own plan to seduce him, her heartbeat accelerated at the taboo command. She'd always wanted to touch him like that, to stroke his muscles and feel him like a lover would, but he'd always been so out of reach. Like Don Quixote, it had been an impossible goal.

Raising her hand, she laid it gently on the center of his chest, on the firm, sculpted muscles there under the fabric of his Henley shirt. She could feel the radiating heat, the strength, and the steady beat of his heart. Hers was thumping uncontrollably, no where near the same regular cadence of his.

She could feel the rumble of his deep voice against her fingertips as he began to speak again.

"That's nice, but if you were seducing me, I wouldn't want you to touch me there. Here, baby," he said, lifting her wrist with his hand. He placed it on the equally hard muscle of his thigh. "There's where your hand should go."

She stared down at her hand on his leg, so pale and small next to the dark fabric of his jeans. The warmth and heat radiating off of his leg nearly burned her. It was intense; she drew in a quick breath and brought her surprised eyes up to meet his.

He locked his gaze with hers, kept his hand on top of hers. He began movements, making her stroke him up and down the length of the muscle. "Like that…show him you want him…"

Want him? She was on fire for him!

Penelope's breath caught in her throat, along with her heart. Her body's response seemed to be on overdrive. She felt hot, wet, dizzy, and she wanted to continue to touch him all night long. When he lifted his hand, she continued to stroke him, the warm granite of his thigh, watching her hand move toward his hips.

She looked up at him and licked her suddenly dry lips. She whispered, "Like this?"

"Hell, yes," he murmured back, his voice a shade rougher than normal. She felt the muscle stiffen as he sat up straighter. "Then what do you do? Kiss him?"

"What?" she asked, unable to form a thought.

"You should kiss him. His ear, his neck…everywhere but his lips." He looked at her, his darkened eyes teasing her, as he said, "Save the best for last."

It was then she realized she needed to take control. She'd been doing everything the way he expected it; now she had to throw him off his game to turn this around.

"Lean over here and kiss me," he said in an impatient flirting manner.

Screwing up as much courage as she could, she leaned closer to him stretched upward. She licked her lips slowly, and lowered her mouth. She saw him tense, saw the muscles in his neck move, as he suddenly swallowed in anticipation.

Just before she pressed her lips down, she drew back and shook her head. "No."

He arched a brow at her. "No?"

"Here is what I would do," she said, letting her voice trail off as she rose to her knees. Scootching her dress up over her knees, she raised her leg and straddled his hips with her thighs.

He gave her a surprised look. "Sweetheart—"

"I'd do it like this, for better range of motion," she interrupted, saying reasonably. She leaned up against his body and pressed her lips to the underside of his jaw, his temple, and just below his earlobe. Her voice was husky as she breathed, "Think he'd like that?"

He didn't answer—just nodded his head in agreement. His eyes were closed, his head leaned back against the sofa, and his nostrils flared slightly.

She went on kissing the strong column of his neck, the whiskers from his five o'clock shadow gently abrading her lips. She kissed his earlobe, fighting nibbling the irresistible, delicious-smelling flesh.

And then she felt his hands, sliding up her thighs, coming around to cup her ass. He squeezed, tugging her closer, until her hips made contact with his. She could feel the swell of his prominent bulge pressing between her legs.

She had a shiver of delight ripple through her and let out a soft moan, but continued her gentle exploration. She was so close to her goal; she couldn't be waylaid now.

God, he felt so good! Lost in the titillating sensations, she rocked her hips, his hardness pressing up against her softness in an erotic melding. She was unrelenting in her kisses, kissing his beard, darting her tongue out to touch the cleft in his chin. He was so delicious, so—

He opened his lashes and stared at her with his dark, sizzling, obsidian-colored eyes. She watched as he fought for control, the fire raging in his blood evident in every movement he made. His look was one of barely restrained passion, and she felt such joy, knowing she'd brought him there.

For a long moment, they locked gazes. She couldn't move; she was barely breathing. She was certain this was the moment, the one moment she'd been waiting forever for with him. Derek was going to kiss her and claim her as his own.

But he didn't.

"That's enough," he said gruffly, his hands on her arms, stalling her movements. "You did great. I'm sure if you do that with the man you are truly interested in, there is no way he'd turn you down. Good job."