AN: Thanks so much for the reviews... Goodness gravy, we got 299 right now! I am kind of wondering who will be lucky 300? *pleased and proud smile*... I hope you are still enjoying and are getting a feel for both P and D's thoughts...

Chapter 14

Derek was more than pleased in how Penelope was settling into their affair. She truly seemed to be enjoying all of the lessons he was teaching her—perhaps as much as he was enjoying instructing her. Like an eager nymph, she had come to him the next weekend, packed and ready to play, with a big grin on her face and devilish merriment in her eyes. It was more than he had ever hoped for.

To tell the truth, it scared him a bit.

Being used to Dominance and what it meant for his partners, Derek wasn't quite prepared for the difference he felt when he commanded Penelope. He'd always wanted her, but she'd been forbidden fruit, something he knew deep down that he never should've touched. It was like touching an angel that had mistakenly fallen to Earth and found that she enjoyed the sins of mortal life. He couldn't help but feel that his touch was corrupting her.

"Hey, sweetness," he said as she walked through the doorway. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. It was something he'd done for years with her, but now he allowed the rush of blood to his groin and welcomed the throb his partially erect prick gave when she hugged and kissed him back.

"Should I put my bag in your room?" she asked when she pulled away, that mischievous grin returning to her pretty face.

He took it from her. "I can do that for you."

"Oh, thanks, angel fish," she answered, looking pleased.

That was another thing that made her different from the other women he'd been with; Penelope took pleasure in the smallest things that he did for her. It made him want to rip her clothes off and devour her, giving her pleasure after pleasure, until she screamed in ecstasy. Come to think of it, he wanted to lock her up and keep her restrained in his bedroom, his plaything, and share her with no one else.

Shit… He needed to get them out of there for the night, before he started imagining really impossible things... like forever.

"I'm thinking we should go out for dinner tonight," he said, pausing in his climb up the stairs.

"Okay," she answered agreeably. "Where?"

"You decide."

"Oooh!" she said with a happy sigh. "My decision? Really?"

He began to grin. He knew that would please her greatly. He was rather finicky about different foods. Being in the military and in the BAU, he'd eaten at his share of pretty stinky restaurants over the years; he had a discerning palate.

"Yes, baby."

Her eyes widened in fake awe. "Mr. Fussy Pants, who only likes certain things and certain places, is letting me decide?" She grinned back and winked at him. "Goodness, I have you wrapped around my finger, don't I?"

He chuckled and began to climb again. "Don't get used to that..."

Her tinkling laughter followed him and made his body stir again to the point that he was uncomfortable. Damn. He needed to cool it; how would it be at the BAU if every time she laughed, he sported an erection?

Grumbling under his breath, he continued to the top of the stairs and deposited her bag in his room.

Penelope chose a trendy Asian fusion restaurant that had a renowned sushi bar in the area of town frequented by college students. The interior of the restaurant was sparsely lighted with paper lanterns that glowed like they were lit by fireflies. Low, dark wood tables had cushioned seats that were near to the floor and a large bar that had lots of customers was in the distant corner. It was both cozy and happening—a strange mix that worked for the locale.

A hostess helped Penelope to her seat and then directed Derek to his. "A server will be right with you."

"I love this place," she said, opening her menu. "Ooh! Edamame. Should we get a bowl of those to split?"

"Anything you want, sweetheart," he said, reaching for his own menu. He wasn't that fond of soybean pods, but with the excitement in her voice, he wouldn't deny her anything. "I'm game."

"Konnichiwa," the server said, stepping up to the table. The young man looked a little like your traditional surfer dude, with his blond, shaggy mane and perpetual tan. He was probably one of the students from the college working a part time gig. "I'm Ken. I'll be taking care of you tonight."

"Thanks, Ken," Penelope said, a big smile on her face. "Your accent sounds familiar; are you from California?"

Derek noticed that Ken looked immediately smitten; he smiled a bit too strongly at Penelope. His teeth were huge and white, like pieces of Chicklet® gum lined up in his mouth.

"Pasadena, born and raised," he answered with that insipid grin still there. "You, too?"

Penelope nodded. "I'm a San Francisco girl, myself."

Malibu Ken® remained smiling and said enthusiastically, "That's great! I love the Bay area; I've got a lot of relatives still there."

"Oh?" Penelope asked in her naturally inquisitive way. "Where about?"

"I'm from Chicago," Derek interjected, and then internally booted himself. He sounded desperate to get into the conversation with that, and damn, he did not want to be in that conversation.

Penelope smiled at Derek. "You have the best pizza in your town, Hot Stuff." She winked at him and then looked at Ken. "Can you bring us your fresh sushi list?"

"Of course I can," the waiter gushed.

"Thank you," Derek muttered.

"No, thank you," he said. "It's my pleasure to serve you both. What can I get you to drink?"

"How about a glass of plum wine?" she asked, returning the server's smile with a genuine grin of her own.

"Oh, be careful...that'll sneak up on you," he said with a wink.

"I'll have a Sapporo®," Derek said, ordering the Japanese beer.

"Be back in a flash," Ken commented, flashing Penelope yet another smile.

Derek was going to kill Ken. He needed to go find some Barbie® and leave his Baby Girl alone.

When he'd returned to the table, Penelope had asked him the chef's special sushi order. He'd taken his sweet time, standing over her shoulder, pointing out each of the special rolls and describing them with a passion and verve that made Derek sick.

"Our Spicy California is so delicious," he'd gushed. "It originated there with Japanese immigrants. A uniquely American sushi."

"Naturally, the best would be from California," she teased.

"Oh, yes," Ken said with his eternal smile. Derek started to think it was painted on. "All good things come from California, don't they?"

The little fucker was cruising for a bruising. Inwardly, Derek was growling to himself. He was ready to dismember this kid...and then he watched Ken with other tables and noticed that he was smiling at lot there, too…and flirting.

Damn. Maybe it wasn't even flirting, really. The kid was sociable and kind, even to Derek himself, and had been nice even when Derek had been particularly rude. Derek was rarely rude, but Ken simply rubbed him the wrong way.

"D...are you okay?" Penelope asked, looking at him in concern. She looked so beautiful, her pink cheeks flushed from the heady plum wine, her dark eyes sparkling in the low lighting.

No, he wasn't okay. He was acting like a jealous ass, and he had no reason to be. She was there with him, she was just being friendly, and yet he couldn't control the primal feeling of wanting to hold her close and mark her as his.

That was stupid. She wasn't his. He knew he wasn't what she needed. He wasn't what anyone needed—especially not someone like her. His life wasn't something meant to be shared, not this part of it.

No matter how hard he'd tried to ignore it, the thoughts haunted him the rest of dinner. He could hear her voice, telling him he was a good man, a noir knight, and even her hero. He was nobody's hero. He couldn't be. He wanted to be hers...he just wanted her.

Fuck, how he wanted her!

Angrily, he slugged down the rest of his beer. He needed to get a grip. She was there to learn, to experiment. He would teach her, and when she learned, he'd let her go. This would be over soon, they'd part as friends, and everything would go back to normal.

Somehow, that didn't make him feel any better.

After dinner—and two glasses of plum wine—Penelope was singing to herself when they made it back to his house. She was slightly under the influence, but still highly aware, and from the look of her pointy nipples sticking out of her shirt, highly aroused.

"Upstairs to play?" she asked with a suggestive waggle of her fine brows.

Doing what he'd wanted to the entire night, he gave in to his baser desires and yanked her into his arms. He swallowed her gasp of surprise and plastered a searing kiss on her lips. He took her lips masterfully, commanding her total surrender. He tasted her, licked deeply in her mouth, tasting the sweetness of the wine that she'd drunk and her own delicious essence.

Would he ever get enough of her?

Shaking that thought, he fisted his hand in her hair and yanked backward, causing her to gasp in surprise, and allowing him to kiss her deeper, melding his tongue with hers. She sighed and brought her hands tentatively to his shoulders, melting into his commands. She fit so well in his arms...like she belonged there.

She wasn't his. Not permanently...but the devil on his shoulder commented softly...

She's yours tonight.

He kissed his way down her neck, nipping none too gently at the soft flesh there, and then growled as he scooped her into his arms and carried her up the stairs to his room.