Chapter Seven
AN: Thanks for the reviews, folks! You are such a glorious bunch to write for!...As for the story...Good heavens, I was in a mood when I wrote this chapter LOL...They're like Pringles; once they pop, they can't stop!...This is rather strong; reader discretion advised.
Penelope woke, still snuggled with Derek. It was obviously early; she could see just the faint glow of sunlight casting onto the floor. She felt his arms stir around her and wanted to turn back and see him, but she was afraid she had dragon breath. She breathed in her hand, checking.
"That was polite," he said with a chuckle, causing her to jump.
She turned and looked at him, seeing his big cheesy grin. "Well, I..."
"A quick tip: men really don't think about that kind of thing. We're stinky, sweaty, gassy people. In other words," he said, wiggling his brows, "shit happens."
She snickered. "So you're absolutely fine with my morning funk?"
He shrugged. "Depends on how funky it is. Lightly funky, sure...Disco funky, hell, no."
She started to chuckle more. "You're kind of disgusting, you know that?"
He shrugged, then leaned closer and sniffed. "Lightly funky... green light."
A second later, he pushed her onto her back and gave her a nice, sweet, good morning kiss. Afterward, he tucked her into his arms again, kissing the top of her head.
They lay quietly, her head on his arm. Then she said, "You were right."
"What?"
She looked up at his curious face and smirked."You don't have that trigger problem."
He smirked back at her and said, "I have to be honest. I probably would have had a problem, even with the condom, if it wasn't my second performance of the night."
She frowned. "Second performance?" Her brows knit in concentration, and then she began to blush as she figured out what he meant. "Good Lord."
"None of that," he scoffed, brushing a fingertip over her rapidly heating cheeks. "It's the truth. Woman, I have wanted you for such a long time; I would've lasted thirty seconds if I didn't."
That made her blush even more, and she groaned, trying to pull the blanket over her head. "You don't need to say it!"
He sighed and tugged the blanket back down. "Honey, if we are going to have an affair, we have to be able to talk about anything."
"We already did talk about everything before this," she grumbled. "I'm your friend, first, Derek. I know about your conquests, and your choice in beer, and your mother, and your neighbor who lets Clooney out, and—"
"Don't forget my argument with the phone company," he interrupted, remarking dryly.
She smiled gently. "Did you ever get that charge taken off?"
He laughed. "Fact is, sweetheart, we do know each other. So well, we need to feel comfortable to meet each other's needs."
"I know," she said. "I just think—"
"This thing between us...this is going to last a long time, sugar."
Her heart began to race. Was he talking about...was he...
He sighed and held her hand, explaining, "If we are going to keep doing this for one hundred poses, it's going to take us some time."
For some reason, that deflated her just a little bit. Of course he was talking about the book! She tried to hold back any disappointment in her tone.
"Not that long," she mused. "You did four of 'em last night..."
He grinned at her. "I was showing off."
She gave a quick nod. "Well, it worked."
"Anyway," he continued, "because of that, we need to be even more comfortable, know even more about one another."
She nodded her agreement, although she was nervous. She was a more private person than even he knew; there were some fantasies she never said aloud to herself, much less told anyone else. And she had a lot of sexual baggage—failures and disappointments—from lovers that were no where near Derek's caliber.
She was no where near Derek's caliber!
"So...here are some facts that only a lover would know about me," he said, reaching his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Okay," she said, a little startled that Derek referred to her as his lover. She was still having a hard time digesting that.
"I always sleep on the right side of the bed," he stated.
She gave him a sarcastic smile. "I knew that already. I've spent the night here a few times."
"Just seeing if you were listening," he said, smirking. "I love to cuddle, I don't mind morning breath, I like kissing as much as fucking, I love big tits and curvy asses, I'm an insomniac, and I am a morning person."
"What else?" she asked. She'd figured all that out last night.
He smiled gently, and touched the side of her face. He wanted to say, I love to please you. Have wanted to please you for years. I wanted to show you a good morning, a good afternoon, and a good evening forever. Most of all, I wanted to show you a good night.
Then he immediately thought afterward, Too much, too soon.
So, instead, he said, "I love it when a lover talks to me, tells me what they want and need. I need to know; I'm not a mind reader." He gave her a slow, sexy grin and continued, "I promise I will read your body like a book, feel how you react, how wet and hot you get, what makes you throb the hardest...but I can't know what's in your head—and that's the most important sexual part you got."
She stared at him, wide eyed, blinking for a moment. "Wow...I wasn't expecting that."
He kissed the tip of her nose. "Get used to it, angel: I'm full of surprises."
She smiled back at him and snuggled into his arm.
"So, what about you?"
She tensed. "What about me what?"
"What can I know that only a lover would know?" he asked.
She raised her head to grin mischievously at him. "Besides that I like to sleep on the left side?"
He laughed. "Smart ass."
"I don't know," she said. "Although I think I'm pretty readable."
"You can do better than that, P."
"All right," she said, seriously thinking for a moment. "I like everything you did last night. I couldn't find fault with it at all."
"That's nice to hear. Keep talking."
Penelope hesitated. She has so much she wanted to say, about her love life, about what she felt comfortable with and what she didn't. She just didn't know what to tell him; she didn't want to tell him anything that would make him think she wasn't sexy.
Taking a deep breath, she began again, "Well...Contrary to my sexy goddess reputation, I am not the most adventurous in bed."
"This, coming from the woman who bought this book," he commented, pointing towards the object he mentioned. He snorted. " I don't believe that for a second."
She started slowly, "Well...I haven't done a whole lot of stuff and have done some stuff wrong."
"What do you mean done stuff wrong?" he asked, voicing the one question she didn't want to answer.
She blushed red, but continued, "I tried certain moves, like standing and sitting up sex, and it didn't work quite right."
"Okay. We'll do that, and we'll make it work, proving that it wasn't you," he said matter of factly.
She blushed again and shook her head. "Derek, I am not exactly like the typical woman you've made love to in the past."
"No, you're not," he said, starting to kiss her wrist. "You're uniquely Penelope, which is what turns me on."
She was getting a little irritated at Derek for making her spell it out. Sometimes he was remarkably thick headed. The truth was, she'd done standing sex with Kevin, when he wanted to do it against a door. Mid-stroking, he'd gotten a terrible cramp in his leg and had to put her down. He'd blamed it on her being heavier, which she couldn't disagree with.
She must've given something away with her look, because Derek clucked his tongue in a tsking sound.
"Oh," he said, continuing to tsk, giving her an all knowing look, shaking his head.
Before she could comment, he climbed out of bed, then reached for her and scooped her up.
"Derek!" she squealed, kicking her legs.
"Are you sore?" he asked, arching a brow.
"What?" she asked, eyes wide.
He gave her a bald stare. "You're tight; I'm big. Are you sore?" he repeated, a no nonsense tone to his voice.
She stopped kicking and flushed six shades of scarlet again. "No."
"Good," he said, dipping his knees. "Reach my jeans and go in my right pocket, please."
"You're going to hurt your—"
The look he gave her shut her up quickly.
She reached her hand to the ground and scooped up his pants. In the pocket were an entire handful of condoms. She pulled one out and quipped, "Pretty sure of yourself, weren't you, cowboy?"
"Yes, ma'am. I aim to please," he replied with a grin...
For More of this chapter, please see my profile!