His lips came down onto hers, soft and gentle at first. But he hadn't had her in a year and a half, and he'd forgotten what she tasted like. As soon as he got a little tease, he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring every area of her mouth. Her hands came to his shoulders, clinging to him tightly as if he were the only thing keeping her standing. When he felt her hands leave his shoulders and begin to unbuckle his pants, he forced himself to push her away.

"Penelope," he said softly. "Don't sleep with me to get back at him."

She studied his face for a minute, and then continued to unbuckle his pants.

His hands came to her shoulders to still her. "If you really want to do this—"

"What I really want," she said angrily, "is for all of this to go away. But that's not gonna happen. You made sure of that. So I'm gonna settle for this." Her eyes locked on his—a defiance in them. She was still mad at him; it was crystal clear in her eyes. "Are you up for it or not?" she asked roughly.

He put his hand on hers, guiding it against his crotch in answer. He was rock hard. "Oh, yeah," he said huskily. "I'm up for it."

"Then enough…with the talking," she told him as she drew her hand back and pulled her shirt down off her shoulders.

Derek stepped forward and put his hands underneath her breasts and lifted them, his mouth coming down onto the exposed skin above the cup of her bra. Penelope threw her head back with a groan. She knew what that mouth was capable of. She reached behind herself and quickly undid the clasp of her bra, letting the straps slide down her arms.

Derek grabbed at it and tossed it aside—out of his way. He was gonna nip at her breast, but he was so frantic, he thought maybe he'd bit her too hard. She substantiated that when she jumped back. "Geez, Derek," she said breathlessly.

"Sorry," he said with a feeble grin.

"For God's sake, don't apologize, just…do it again," she demanded, stepping closer to him and grabbing his head. She directed it to the other side of her chest and his mouth was already open by the time it reached her breast. She swore she heard him growl. His tongue was hot and damp against her skin, his method rushed and chaotic. This was new for him—Derek had always been able to control himself.

She reached for his zipper and he moved his lower body away from hers to give her room. But instead of pulling his pants down as he expected, she tugged at the waistband of his boxer briefs and slid her hand inside, grasping his length.

He pulled his mouth away from her chest and she heard him hiss. "Garcia," he said longingly. Reaching for his waistband, he pushed his boxers and pants down as far as he could without her having to move—about halfway down his thighs. When he'd freed himself, she pulled her hand away from him and licked her thumb, then reached for him again. She squeezed gently, then moved her thumb to his tip and began moving it slowly back and forth. "You're gonna get me off," he warned. Between her touch and the moist heat from her thumb, she was driving him wild.

Her eyes found his and she lifted an eyebrow. "And how long before you're hard again?" she asked.

He grinned sheepishly. "Ten seconds?" he guessed.

She nodded. "That's what I thought." She squeezed harder, and then began stroking him, slowly at first, then quickly. And all the while, her thumb was caressing his tip—she was the only woman he knew who could work his body so efficiently.

"OK," he said as his body shivered involuntarily. "Enough." He pushed her away and shed his pants, then pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. He stepped forward and in no time, her own jeans and panties had disappeared. In unison, they sank to their knees, Derek's mouth finding hers again on the way down. She moved forward on her knees, her breasts crushed against his chest. She could feel his erection against her belly, and she had all she could do not to reach for him again.

He leaned forward; she fell backwards. His hips were cradled between her thighs and she was desperate to have him inside of her. She lifted one hand to his shoulder and pushed him away, then reached down with the other. She grasped him again, guiding him to her opening. When he felt her heat, he thrust forward, then pulled back and thrust forward again and again. He had a hand on each side of her head, steadying his upper body as his lower body kept up its frenzied pace. He was like a man possessed, the only thing on his mind bringing them both to the edge.

She lifted her hips with each of his thrusts—their lower bodies slamming together in a familiar rhythm. She lifted her arms, her hands clasping together at the back of his neck; then lifted her legs, her ankles locking at his waist. She could feel her body temperature rising. "Derek," she whimpered.

"I know," he said, understanding her perfectly.

He felt her thighs tighten against his waist, and then his own body shuddered in release as he fell on top of her. "Oh, God," he said breathlessly. "Was it always like that?" he asked.

"I think so," she said huskily. "It was just so long ago…"

Derek rolled off her, and lay beside her, an arm slung around her waist. He threw a leg over hers and began to absently stroke her belly. They lay there for a long time, neither one saying anything.

It was Penelope who finally spoke. She lifted a hand to her hair, running her fingers through it over and over again. "Why did you come to me on my wedding day?" she asked. It was odd; there was no accusation, just genuine curiosity.

Derek sighed. "I wasn't gonna come to you at all," he admitted.

"Why did you?"

"If you knew what he did and still wanted to marry him, then that was your choice. But I couldn't know he was pulling one over on you, Penelope. I couldn't let him do that to you."

She looked up at him and swallowed past the lump in throat. "I knew," she said quietly.

"What?" Derek asked, as his hand froze. "You…you knew?"

She nodded wordlessly.

"And you were going to marry him anyway?" Derek asked incredulously.

Again, she nodded.

He rolled up onto his stomach and looked down at her. "Why?"

"Because he took care of me," she answered honestly. She hadn't told Emily or JJ any of this—and she hadn't planned on telling Derek. But it had always been so easy for her to talk to him. "And because he made me feel safe."

"Did you love him?" Derek asked.

"No," she said. "I didn't love him. But I was OK with that."

"You wanted to marry someone you didn't love?"

"No," she said firmly. "I wanted to marry someone I loved, but he didn't want to marry me."

Derek didn't say anything.

"So I was willing to settle for less."

Penelope leaned up and kissed Derek on the cheek. "Thanks for tonight," she said, smiling softly. "You were…amazing. Just like I knew you would be."

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Home," she said, standing up.

His hand shot out and seized her ankle. "Why?"

She laughed as she looked down at him. "Because I got what I wanted," she teased.

He gave her a stern look.

"Because this isn't a sleepover, Derek. It was…a one time thing."

"That we've done a million times before," he reminded her.

She laughed nervously. "Never like this."

He knew she wasn't talking about how incredible it had been—because it had always been like that. She was talking about the fact that they'd never been together outside of a relationship. He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. He just leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her ankle, then watched as she got dressed and then walked out of his front door with a small wave.