Chapter 6

AN: Thanks for the reviews, guys. Had a great night relaxing, out dancing with hubby. I feel rejuvenated. Boogied and made friends with Peachtree Schnapps!... I am so behind on answering reviews, I am sorry!- getting there ...This chapter is dedicated to Angie (amkp)- It different, but I think you're gonna like it!...As usual, I don't own the song, Nelly does...Hee hee, here it comes; the moment we've... oops, Pen's been waiting for…

Warning: Sexual content

Leading her up to the front door of his house, he opened the door. "After you, sweetheart."

Penelope walked in to his cavernous foyer, and started sliding off her shoes. She loved Derek's house; it was a gorgeous, ranch style with tons of room. He had a skylight in the foyer; currently, the moon was shining in, adding illumination just before Derek clicked on the wall lamp.

"Make yourself comfortable," he said, while he walked into his kitchen.

She didn't know if that was going to be possible. She sat on his big leather couch, feeling a little nervous again, and more than a little bit awkward. Was she really going to sit and watch Derek strip? Best friends did not do this sort of thing for each other!

Then again, best friends didn't kiss like they just did, either.

She started to blush just thinking of what was coming up. Was he going to shake it, like those men at the club did? If she had to watch that, she knew she'd burst out laughing. Although she knew just from feeling his body during their kiss, he had a very impressive it to shake!

A thrill ran through her, thinking about that kiss, and how wonderful and-

"Here," he said, coming from behind her, interrupting her thoughts.

He'd startled her. She actually jumped, and she could feel her cheeks heating. Oh God, if he knew what she was thinking!

Then she paused. On second thought, he did know what she was thinking!

Smiling, she turned and reached for what looked like a rum and coke. She gratefully accepted it, then giggled. She was glad there wasn't a penis straw in this one!

"Thank you," she said, taking a sip of the potent drink.

Derek put his hands on her shoulders, and began to rub and squeeze in a gentle massage. "Just relax, okay? It's going to be fine," he assured, his thumbs coming up to rub her neck, brushing into her hairline.

"Mmmm," she moaned, closing her eyes. "That feels nice."

He continued to stroke her until she groaned, feeling like a contented cat. She could feel her muscles loosening, and she sighed under his ministrations.

"Better?" he murmured, his voice a low vibrating timbre, similar to a purr. With her nod, he raised his hands, and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Good. Hang tight; I'll be ready in a sec."

She watched as Derek walked over to his sound system, a rather fancy, complicated thing Pen wasn't exactly sure how to operate. He was a gadget man. He had all sorts of electronic goodies in his house that would appeal to just about any other tech nerd on the planet. Pen was strictly computers; the rest of the stuff didn't matter to her. She watched him reach into his back pocket, grab his iPod® and plug it into his system.

Scrolling through, he was making all sorts of comments under his breath. "No, not that one... Oh, hell, that would be funny shit!...maybe... hmmm..."

She realized then he was finding the perfect song to strip to. That made the reality kick in completely. Oh, good Lord, he was really going to do it!

"Oh, yeah," he said, nodding his head when a few chords began. "This is perfect."

Hot in...so hot in here...

Derek turned, then smirked sensuously at her, like a wolf zoning in on his prey, as he started to walk closer.

Penelope couldn't help it; she burst out giggling and started to blush. "Oh, good Lord, Derek, you don't have to..."

Her words stopped as he started lifting his shirt, revealing a scant amount of his fantastic, bronzed tummy. God, even that sparse amount was beautiful!

She found herself simply staring as he raised his shirt slowly, inch by inch, to the beat of the song. His perfect eight pack, all toned muscle, beckoned her fingers. She had to fight not to reach out and touch him, trail her fingers where she wanted them.

He slid the shirt up over his head, revealing his broad shoulders, and the muscles moved as he tossed it over in the corner. She drank in the sight of his tattoos, the lion and the letters on his arms. She paused in her drooling, wondering how old he was when he got them, what inspired them and the designs he chose.

She was awestruck at his perfect, sparsely haired torso, his defined pecs, trim waist, even his ribcage called out to her. His black jeans were slung low on his lean hips, dipping farther as be began to move in perfect rhythm to the base in the song. She sat there, staring as his tummy muscles rippled with one particular hip thrust.

He stood a little closer, rocking his hips in a very familiar, sexy motion, one any woman worth her salt would appreciate! Good heavens, she almost forgot what a damn good dancer he was. She heard the old adage, Good on the dance floor, good in bed, and had no doubt that was true with Morgan.

He stood in front of her, so close she could almost touch him, and flipped open the button on his black jeans. She was absolutely mesmerized, watching his moving hips, his fingers on his zipper, her breath coming quicker and her body heating up to a fever pitch.

Then he stopped completely.

Her eyes shot up to his face.

"What did you say?" He arched a brow as he smirked at her. "I don't have to do what?"

She grinned back up at him with a giggle, not at all embarrassed that she was caught so blatantly staring. She leaned back, crossed her legs, and took a sip of her drink. Then she placed it back on the table, smiled at him, and said, "Take it off, Hot Stuff!"

The corner of his mouth shot up, and he replied, "That's what I intended."

It's getting hot in here... so take off all your clothes...

She smiled over her drink. The song was encouraging him to do it, too.

He began the same motion with his hips as he drew his zipper down. To the thumping of the music, he pushed his pants down, revealing his boxers. She sat forward and was eye level with his hips. He had a rather enormous erection showing quite obviously in the front of his boxer briefs. It curved up the edge of his belly, nearly reaching his navel through the stretching fabric.

She couldn't help it; her eyes widened considerably, with maybe a teensy touch of panic; he was that big. She glanced up at his face, saw his knowing smirk, and began to blush even as she drooled and palpitated at the same time.

Shaking his head with a chuckle, he kicked off his pants and reached for her hands. He drew her to her feet, then pulled her forward, still dancing. He put her hands on his chest first, letting her feel the muscles moving there, his smooth skin. He danced with her, leaning his mouth close to the side of her neck, edging his hips forward, but never quite kissing or touching her like she so desperately needed.

All the teasing was driving her insane. Her heart was pounding in her chest, she was panting like a puppy after a run, and she was so aroused she was going to burst. She wanted to move her hands downward, to touch his erection that was reaching for her itself, but he grabbed her hands again. He kissed them softly, then drew them around himself, placing them firmly on his thrusting, rotating ass. He bent his thighs, ground himself against her to the same raunchy rhythm. She started to throb along with the beat.

"Oh, my God, Derek," she moaned, her eyes dark and dilated with pleasure. It wasn't going to take long to throw her over the edge with him doing that! She was close, shamelessly close to-

Before she could think anything else, he reached his hands down to her thighs and lifted her up. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist, as he held her against the wall. He started thrusting against her, his erection lining up perfectly with her softness, harder and harder, faster and faster. A millisecond later, her legs began to shake like she were in an earthquake as she came like a rocket exploding. She screamed as waves of pleasure rushed over her.

She was still shuddering with aftershocks when Derek lowered her feet to the ground.

"You okay?" he asked gently, touching the sides of her face with his hands. He brushed her hair back that had fallen forward, and tucked it behind her ears.

She nodded.

"Good," he said, abruptly stepping away from her. He took a seat on the couch, crossed his ankle on his knee, and took a sip of her drink he'd made her. Then he smiled up at her and threw the challenge: "It's showtime, Penelope. Take it off."