A/N: This is the last chapter of A Storm Is Brewing, and I'm not gonna lie, it was a lot of fun to write! Enjoy!
The space between them was just too much. Derek's hand fell to his side, and he let the flowers drop to the floor. He closed the gap that separated them with a single step, lifting his hands to frame her face.
Penelope lifted her own so they were resting on his. There was an intensity in his eyes that she'd never noticed before, causing her to tighten her grip on his fingers. "Thank you for the flowers," she said breathlessly, unable to let the gesture go ignored. The fact that he'd taken the time to dress for her, to go out and buy her flowers—roses, she corrected—meant more to her than she could put into words. Derek Morgan was a master at seduction.
"Penelope…" he said softly.
But she shook her head. "No," she said, choking back a sob. "No talking, Derek." She wanted this, and if she took the time to think about it, she knew she wouldn't do it.
The only thing he could do was nod. His throat was suddenly dry—the thought of being with her again overwhelming him.
Except the thing was—Derek wanted to talk. He had so much to say to her—starting with where things would go after tonight. This was only part of what he wanted from her. But unless he'd been trying to get a woman into bed, he wasn't good with words. So he was going to have to show her how he felt the only way he knew how. He was going to love her with his body.
He pulled his hands from her face, and lacing his fingers with hers, escorted her to the bed she'd been occupying in their suite.
His leg was throbbing having walked around Boston searching for roses that weren't wilted, but dammitt, he'd suffer through the pain. He almost grinned at the thought. He was pretty sure there wouldn't be any suffering involved.
When he reached the bed, he sat down, his legs spread out. He looked up at Penelope, and she stepped between his knees and lowered her face to his. Her lips were soft and gentle. He wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned back onto the mattress, Penelope following him. He felt warm liquid on his cheeks and suddenly, Penelope put a hand on his chest and pushed herself up.
"I can't do this, Derek," she said softly. And when Derek saw her glistening eyes, he knew where the moistness had come from.
"Sure you can," he coaxed soothingly as he gave her a light squeeze. "You promised me redemption, remember?"
She shook her head and pushed him away. "No, I can't," she said breathlessly.
"Why not?" he asked as she rolled off of him. He lifted himself up onto an elbow so he was looking down at her. She had one arm above her head, her hair fanned out around her face on the pillow. She looked…stunning. That was the only word that had enough impact to describe the way he saw her at that very moment.
She met his eyes, and he saw the uncertainty in them. "I'm in love with you," she admitted softly.
You could have knocked him over with a feather. OK, he knew she wanted him, but to be in love with him? That was a surprise.
"And for you—this would just be another night," she continued.
"Who said that?" he asked quietly.
"I'm saying that," she told him. "And trust me, if I thought I could sleep with you and then just walk away…" She winced. "I would do it. But I'm not sure I can. And…it's not your fault that you aren't in love with me—"
"Who says I'm not in love with you?" he interrupted.
Penelope sat there for a moment flabbergasted. "Well, who says you are?" she shot back for lack of a better retort.
"I do," he said determinedly.
She stared up at him, her lips parting in surprise. For the first time in her life, Penelope Garcia was at a loss for words. "Derek," was the only thing she could say. And even then, it was more of a breath than an actual word.
"Penelope," he answered, his eyes softening.
She shook her head. "You're just trying to get me into bed," she said dismissively.
"Well, you're right about that," he teased with a grin.
Penelope tried to sit up, but he put a hand on her shoulder, preventing her from moving.
"Let me go," she said, avoiding his gaze.
"Mmm-mmm," he said, shaking his head.
"Please," she said.
He put a hand on her cheek, gently moving her head so she'd have to face him. "Nope," he said simply.
"Derek…"
"You don't have to believe my words, Garcia," he said tenderly. "But let me make love to you. And then you try to tell me that I don't love you," he challenged. He shook his head. "I promise you won't be able to do it."
She relaxed back into the mattress, studying his face for any sign of untruthfulness. But she couldn't find it. "And what if I still don't believe you?" she asked anyway.
He grinned down at her. "Then I'll just have to try again," he said. "And again and again if I have to." He shrugged. "I'm willing to take one for the team."
Penelope laughed on a sob. "You're willing to do that, huh?" she teased.
"Oh, yeah," he said, leaning down and gently touching his lips to hers. He didn't want this to be a kiss full of passion—she'd already seen that side of him. But in this instant, Derek wanted to show her this side. Tonight it was all about Penelope. "There's only one rule," he whispered, tearing his lips from hers.
"What's that?"
"You can't touch me," he told her.
"What?"
"You heard me," he said, lowering his lips to her neck. Derek managed to get her night shirt unbuttoned in the meantime and he helped her shrug out of it, then dropped it to the floor. He used the pads of his thumbs to caress her nipples, and after a sharp intake of breath, her hands came up to his lower back. She used her fingertips to trace a path to his shoulders. Every spot that she touched was electric.
His hands reached up to seize her wrists. "What did I tell you?" he asked.
"But…" When he let go, she reached for him again.
"Hey, hey, hey! Hands…to…yourself," he scolded her. "This is my chance to redeem myself, and baby, I am gonna make you so hot, you just might go up in flames." He grinned at her. "Don't make me tie you up."
"Well, what good is it gonna be for me if I don't get to touch you?" she asked. And then what he'd just said sunk in. Being tied up by Derek Morgan didn't sound like a bad thing.
He looked at her and lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, trust me," he said, his tone guttural. "It's gonna be good." Derek stood up beside the bed and tugged her pajama bottoms and panties off. Then it was his turn—and Penelope watched as he undressed. His suit jacket went first, and when he began to unbutton his dress shirt, Penelope found herself mesmerized. The sight of his upper body was remarkable and the only thing that could pull her gaze away from it was the sound of his zipper. Her eyes lowered to find him fully aroused. And impressive. Last time, there really hadn't been much foreplay and she hadn't had the opportunity to see all of him. And after he stepped out of his pants and boxer briefs, she lost this one. Derek leaned forward and put his hands behind her calves, then hauled her across the mattress.
"Derek!" she said in surprise, clutching the sheets.
"Trust me," he said gruffly. "You'll like this." She let go of the sheets, and when her backside reached the edge of the mattress, Derek dropped to his knees beside the bed. He spread her legs apart, and then put his hands on the backs of her thighs, lifting them one at a time so they were resting on his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her upper legs, his hands coming around to the front of her. He used his fingers to separate her, then his tongue darted out of his mouth to taste her.
He nearly groaned in pleasure.
She did.
He used his tongue, moving up and down her center instead of concentrating on one spot. Her legs tightened on his shoulders.
"Derek," she said, her back arching up off the bed.
"Relax," he coached softly.
He felt her legs go limp and continued with his task. He moved his tongue downward, used it to push inside of her then withdrew, moving it upwards. He continued the rhythm until he felt her stiffen again, all the while taking pleasure in every noise that came from her lips.
"Derek…" she said raggedly.
"Yeah, baby?" he pulled away only long enough to say the words, then returned to his task.
He heard her hiss as she took a deep breath. "You're…getting me there faster than I want to go," she told him, her voice hoarse.
"Don't worry. I'll take you there more than once," he promised. His tongue continued it's expedition until she finally came, crying out his name. Her body slumped listlessly onto the mattress.
As Derek stood, Penelope pulled her legs back onto the bed and he lay down beside her, his lips tracing a path from her stomach up to the valley between her breasts slowly—to give her a reprieve. He lifted his eyes to hers. "Ready for round two?" he asked hoarsely. He sure as hell was.
Penelope nodded as she parted her legs for him. She wanted him inside of her—hot and hard.
Derek poised himself at her opening and entered her slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. Her eyes were closed and her lips parted with a small gasp as he filled her; her hands were beside her head, clutching the pillow. When her tongue flitted out of her mouth to lick her lower lip, he nearly came. But he was able to hold himself in check. He pulled back until he was just inside of her, and then moved himself into her again, slowly. When her shoulders came up off the bed, Derek wrapped his arms around her, holding her upper body close to his even while their lower bodies moved together. Her hips rose again and again to meet his and he kept it slow for as long as he could. But when her arms came around his shoulders and he felt her teeth nip at his shoulder, that was Derek's undoing. His hips increased their momentum until he couldn't hold back anymore. "Penelope," he said raggedly at the same time he heard her call out his name. He pushed inside of her one more time, and after a satisfied sigh from both of them, Derek dropped his body down onto hers.
He lay there, saying nothing. Had it been enough to convince her? he wondered. He forced patience upon himself when all he really wanted to do was ask the question. But something inside told him he needed to wait for her to speak first.
It felt like forever before her arms came up around his shoulders. He felt her fingers link together at the base of his neck.
He lifted his head, his eyes resting on hers. He knew his own were full of question.
"I love you, too," she whispered, pulling his head down to hers.
___
"Yes," Penelope said with a yawn a few hours later.
"Yes, what?" he asked.
"Yes, you got me off in Miami. Twice, in fact."
"I Know," he said smugly.
"What?" she asked.
"I…wasn't as drunk as I may have led you to believe," he told her.
She lifted herself up onto her elbows. "What?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.
Derek sighed. "I wanted to sleep with you in Miami," he told her. "You thought it was out of convenience, but it wasn't. Not anyone would have done that night, Penelope. I wanted you."
"But…"
"And then, when we woke up the next morning…you pretended that nothing had happened." He shook his head. "You have to be the most stubborn woman I know. I…did the same thing to try and make it easier for you. But it just got harder and harder for me. I wanted you again. So…when we were here before, I pretended that I remembered bits and pieces."
"And then you continued the ruse with those text messages," she said. "Smart."
"How mad are you?" he asked. He was convinced she would be furious, but it didn't matter. After what they'd shared just a few hours ago, Derek wanted there to only be truth between them. If she needed time to get over this, so be it. He'd wait if he had to.
"I…" She sighed. "I lied to you, too," she said with a shrug. "I guess all's fair in love and war."
Derek laughed as he moved his head to the spot between her shoulder and neck to nuzzle her.
A little while later, they were both fast asleep.
___
Penelope stretched with a groan as she woke up, fixing her eyes on the window. "Wow. That is some storm brewing out there," she said softly as she watched the thick snowflakes falling past the glass.
Derek growled as he opened his own eyes. "It's nothing compared to the one brewing in here."
Penelope laughed. "I'll say." She could already feel his arousal against her leg. Her body was already humming in anticipation. She moved both hands behind her head, the sheet down to her waist per Derek's insistence. He reached down onto the floor and picked up a rose, holding the stem in his hand. He used the petals to trace a path from her belly button up to her neck. She shivered at the tickling sensation.
Derek leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. "So, I'm thinking our next stop should be Vegas," he told her.
"Ah, yes," Penelope said with a grin. "Someplace where we won't get snowed in."
He laughed. "There's that…" he said, his voice trailing off. He waited a second, but she said nothing. "Do you really not see where I'm going here?" he asked dryly. "Vegas, Garcia."
"I—" She sat there for a moment, unblinking.
"Are you getting it?" he asked.
She nodded. "Home of…wedding chapels. And…Wayne Newton. And…Elvi."
"Elvi?" he asked.
She winced. "The plural of Elvis. I just made it up."
"I like it," he said with a chuckle. "So…what do you think?"
"I think…I need a little clarification," she told him.
He spelled it out for her. "About marrying me."
"Do you have a ring?" she teased.
"No," he told her. "But I can make one." He licked a finger and then traced a circle around her nipple. "There's one," he said. He moved his hand to the other side and did the same thing. "There's two," he said, his eyes locking on hers. He reached down between her legs. "And this one…" He traced a slow circle around her core. "Makes three."
She threw her head back. "Soooo much better than a diamond!" she declared with a shudder.
"So, what do ya think? You wanna be Mrs. Morgan?" he asked.
"Are you still gonna call me Garcia?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Nope. The Morgan is what makes you mine," he said.
She laughed, tilting her head to the side and batting her eyelashes. "How can a girl argue with that?"
"Is that a yes?" he asked, his eyes gleaming.
She frowned. "Do you think it's too quick?"
"Garcia, how long have we worked together?" he asked.
She thought for a minute—or at least, she pretended to. She knew exactly how long they'd been working together. "Almost six years," she said.
He nodded. "Six looong years, Garcia. Of teasing." He leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth. "And longing," he paid the same attention to the other one, and then lifted his head so his eyes met hers. "Foreplay," he concluded. "I'm 39 years old, Garcia. And I know what I want. Do you?"
"Yes," she said with no hesitation.
"What do you want?"
His question was a dare—she knew it was. "You," she breathed. "I want you."
He smiled tenderly at her. "I'm all yours."
***THE END***