AN: Thank you, dear readers and reviewers, for putting up with my erratic posting lately. I am finally starting to feel better (Yay! Just in time for the CM premier tonight!) Thanks for the reviews and the well wishes, you are all so wonderful to me. Love, Kricket

Chapter 7

"I'm hungry."

Penelope expected those words from Derek. She was drying her legs, while he had his towel draped around his shoulders. He was strutting around naked again. The man should really join a nudist colony. He was so confident in his nakedness.

Penelope, on the other hand, was trying to find the best position to look the leanest, draping her towel to hide her lumps and bumps. She had cellulite, and a little bit of back bacon, and—

"Woman."

She looked up at him, questioningly. "What?"

His mouth was curved in a lopsided smirk. "Why are you standing like that?"

She began to blush. "Like what?"

"Like you are tying to hide behind that towel?" he asked, walking towards her.

"Because I am trying to hide behind that towel," she mumbled, answering honestly. She cast her eyes downward and knew she was blushing even brighter.

Derek stood in front of her, putting his finger under her chin. Tipping her chin up to make her meet his eyes, he looked at her questioningly, but didn't say a word.

Angry at herself for feeling that way, and a little at him for being so perfect, showing off so much, she huffed her response. "Not every one is designed like you, Derek Morgan. You may be comfortable parading naked for the masses, but I'm not."

"No, sweetheart," he said softly. "Not the masses… just you."

His expression was so tender, his eyes so warm and gentle, she felt tears stinging the back of her eyes and was galled at her own pettiness. She knew he meant to imply that she should feel comfortable around him, too, but she couldn't. Not about that.

She turned her chin away from him, and swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Well, you're so beautiful and—"

Derek jerked her chin in his direction, forcing him to meet his eyes. "Obviously I'm not doing a good enough job showing you how much I want you and how very beautiful I think you are. Come with me."

She followed him into his walk in closet. In the corner, there were three mirrors. He dragged her, still naked except for the towel she was holding up in one hand, and made her stand in front of him in the mirror.

"I helped you fulfill your perfect self date night, right?" He waited for her to nod, then continued. "Do you want to know what my self date night fantasy is?"

She was a little surprised. She'd never expected that Derek would have fantasies he hadn't fulfilled. She met his gaze above hers in the mirror and gave a barely perceptible nod.

He gave a warm, genuine smile. "Good. Since I fulfilled yours, you can help me fulfill mine, okay?"

"Okay," she said, smiling back. "Fair is fair. What is it?"

"Making love, standing, right here."

She giggled. "Oh, ho... that's like watching yourself in a movie."

"Hell, no," he answered swiftly, tugging the towel out of her hands. "What I'm watching... I'm watching you."

She was a little taken aback. She wasn't sure she liked being so on display. Then she looked up again and caught her breath when his gaze heated up as he began to slide his hand over her body.

"Watching my woman receiving my touches. From my hand holding her perfect breast I am growing to love more every second I see them, to the quivering of her tummy…"

Penelope watched him in the mirror, observed him as he watched his hand doing the things he was saying. The way he was talking, the way he was moving, it made her feel like a voyeur. Like she was outside of her body, seeing someone else getting the touches. It was turning her on so much, her nipples tightened and she was panting.

Derek wasn't unaffected, either. He was breathing heavier, and she could feel him getting aroused, pushing heavily against the still damp skin of her bottom.

"And mostly, watching here," he growled softly, moving his hand between her legs, "as I slide in and out of her pussy… so wet, so tight…."

She couldn't watch anymore. Her heavy lids slammed shut, and she shuddered as his fingers began to play and stroke. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, absorbing the feelings he was stirring inside her.

"Damn you, Penelope," he rasped against her neck, his mouth devouring her skin in hungry kisses. "Are you a witch or something? I can't get enough of you. I've come until I feel dry and exhausted, and yet, I want you again. I've never...it's never been like this before…"

Penelope couldn't explain it, but she understood, too. She felt like that the whole day and the whole night before with him. It felt good—so good—and so right. She wasn't sure what was driving her, but she knew she needed this right now, and she was going to take it.

And she didn't want to think about the warming in her heart, or what that might mean at the moment, either.

Turning, she looped her arms around his neck and began to kiss him, effectively obliterating all thoughts.

Saturday day turned into Saturday evening, and then Saturday night, with neither of them making any move to leave. She was wearing the oldest pair pajama style pants that Derek owned. This pair had little Chicago Bears helmets all over them. On top of that, she had his Chicago PD sweatshirt on. He was wearing something similar, except his pants had little Chicago Cubs symbols and an ATF sweatshirt he'd gotten from a friend.

They were playing UNO. Derek was smirking; he was winning by a landslide. He played a mean version of UNO, where they had to draw cards until they could play. She had an absolute mitt of cards, and he had four left in his hand.

"You suck."

"Oh, come now, Baby," he cajoled. "You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do." Penelope was serious. He sucked.

"Fine," he said, putting down a card. "Draw two."

"You…. you… ass!" she sputtered.

"Be nice," he said, laying down a Skip card.

Suddenly seeing the pattern he was going with, she glared at him, narrowing her eyes. "You wouldn't dare…"

"Draw four, yellow, UNO," he said, and with much flourish and aplomb, he laid down his last card, "Out-o."

She stood and threw her cards down. "You mean son of a—!"

Derek tugged her into his lap. "Now, come on, angel. It's just a game."

She wiggled and stood up. "You lucky creep! I'll never—"

"Yes, I am lucky," he cooed, tugging her down again. "I have you."

For a second, she sat stock still, and they were both quiet as the implications of what he'd said hit them both. Her heart sped up just a little bit. Did he mean… Did he… what was this?

She turned to look at him quickly, to see what he was thinking, but couldn't grasp it.

"I do, as my best friend, right?" he asked, smirking again.

She didn't know why her heart ached—it was what she'd expected him to say—but it did. She pushed that feeling aside. Smiling, she kissed his cheek and said, "Always."