"So tell me everything," Gen said as she plopped down on the chair across from Penelope.
Penelope picked up her iced latte and shrugged, "Nothing to tell."
"I don't think so Featherington, out with it," Gen demanded.
Penelope smiled at her impatient friend, "It was nice..."
Gen wove her hand to get more information.
'Nice' obviously wasn't a satisfactory response for Ms Gen.
"Ok fine, it was good, like really good," Penelope blushed while nibbling at her lip.
The kiss was everything.
"He's so into you, it's crazy," Gen said smugly.
"Hm, do you really think so?" Penelope asked a little nervously.
Gen nodded frantically, nearly spitting out her tea, "are you fucking kidding me Pen? The man couldn't keep his eyes from you that night when you were posing like some Greek goddess on that old sofa." Penelope went bright red, "I still can't believe I agreed to that, you still owe me a wine night for that one." Gen scoffed, "I think I'm the one owed wine, since it got you lucky." Penelope laughed and threw a napkin at her across the table.
"Are you seeing him again?"
The aged old question.
"I hope so," Penelope replied with a small smile.
She had only seen him last night and hadn't heard from him today.
Was that normal?
She had been in a few relationships since landing in the Big Apple, but nothing ever lasted past the six-month mark. It was every time the 'love' word got introduced, she either wasn't ready or just... didn't feel it. In comparison to her 'other' encounters, no one had ever made her stomach flip the way Benedict did.
This time was different, she could feel it in her bones.
Gen rushed off to teach a class she had around twenty minutes later. Penelope on the other hand curled up in her usual comfy corner with yet another coffee (this time a warm one), and her trusty book - obviously. She loved this little café. It was close to her old campus, and she knew the owners pretty well, after all, Maria (the owner) always said she was 'her best customer'. She loved the quiet atmosphere and the old and cosy feeling it had. It was a home away from home, and not to mention she had read countless books in this very spot.
She truly loved her life in New York.
"Hey" she looked up and there he was sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Hi" she replied while uncurling herself from her little nook. He pointed to her book and sat down across from her, "Any good?" Penelope smiled and nodded, "Yeah it is."
He placed his coffee on the table and smiled.
That smile.
Penelope noticed his leg shaking ever so slightly, and the overarching silence that currently laid between them. She was nervous, and it was evident so was he. Whatever this was between them was unchartered waters, they had known each other for so long, so many years, it was definitely going to take some adjusting.
He seemed to just be looking at her, and Penelope felt her throat go a little dry – did she have something on her face? Before she could question it, he shook himself out of a daydream.
"What are you doing with the rest of your day?" he asked.
Penelope sat up a little and held her book and coffee up slightly to his gaze/
She happened to have a few days free, so books and coffee were her current 'date'.
"Well, if you aren't busy, would you like to come home with me?" it escaped his lips before he could sensor himself. He swallowed nervously as Penelope went a shade of scarlet.
"Wait that sounded so creepy, I'm sorry, I mean I could cook dinner at mine?" – now he was bright red. Penelope laughed behind her hand trying to shield her amusement. She liked seeing him a little nervous and she kinda like that she made him nervous.
"Fuck, I'm not very good at this stuff," he muttered while wiping his sweaty palms along his thighs. Penelope shook her head and placed down her book and coffee cup, "I'd love too."
Benedict's head shot up in an instant.
"Really?" he asked in shock.
She nodded, "Really."
When they arrived at his apartment Penelope was pleasantly surprised. The place wasn't extravagant – for a Bridgerton this was new. It was an open planned apartment, with lots of light, and lots of space. Artwork hung on the walls, picture frames decorated with family faces on each table, and sketchpads on every available surface – obviously. The whole place screamed Benedict, it was intimate, and just all him.
She liked it.
"Uhm, I know it's not much," he started to say with his hands tucked securely in his pockets... but he caught on to her head shake. "No, it's perfect, because it's all you," Penelope replied as she turned around to face him. He took a step closer towards her and brushed the back of his hand along the side of her cheek, "I swear every time I see you... I need to remind myself to breathe, you literally steal my breath away Featherington."
Penelope smiled and leaned into his hand.
His touch could alight her in ways she had never experienced. Just the way he looked at her was soul stirring. She looked into his eyes and then to his lips. "Well I'd very much like it if you kept breathing," a little humour escaped her.
He laughed, and then leaned down to brush his lips against hers. It was gentle, soft, and warming. She felt safe with him – something every girl craved.
"Mmm..." he pulled back and brushed her bottom lip with his thumb, "...I better get started on dinner, please make yourself at home and snoop," he said with a teasing wink.
"Snoop?" Penelope acted offended and Benedict rolled his eyes. "I might not have seen you for seven years Penelope, but I know how nosy you and El are, so go on, do your worst," Benedict said as he mockingly curtsied and then headed towards the kitchen area.
She walked around his living room with her fingertips brushing against the leather couch. Everything was really clean and well placed, and yet it still felt... homely. It felt lived in, it felt loved, and it made her instantly calm. It was a good thing as her heart was making some irregular patterns due to the fact she was alone with Benedict Bridgerton in his apartment – did she mention they were alone?
She walked over to the bookshelf to see the pictures of him and his siblings. There was one of Anthony, Benedict and Colin surrounding a little baby boy that Penelope could assume was Gregory. It immediately made her smile. The love that family had for one another was nothing short of astounding. They loved fiercely. Something she had been severely jealous of her whole life. She had never felt that type of familial bond. Elose did try her best, but it wasn't the same. She had her family, and even though Penelope never felt unwelcomed, she always felt something was missing from her heart. After all, family forges bonds, it shapes you as a person.
Penelope somehow always thought a part of her would always be broken or not rightly fixed.
Penelope sighed a little as Benedict appeared with a glass of wine, "are you okay?" he asked.
She nodded.
"I'm good, I just forgot how much I missed you guys," she replied taking the glass of red from his hands and lifting it straight to her lips – hopefully this would sort out her heart rate.
"We missed you too, my mum does especially," he replied while taking the photo from her other hand and placing it back on the shelf. He then slipped his hand on hers and brought her to the kitchen. He pulled out a breakfast stool and patted it for her to sit down.
"Is there anything you need help with?" she asked excitedly.
He shook his head.
"Nope, I just want your company," he looked over his shoulder with a grin.
Having her here, with him, right now, it felt... right.
She watched as he pulled out pots and pans and danced around the kitchen while talking about his students. She was in awe of him. He was so passionate about the little things. He was so enthusiastic about life, she loved that. She could listen to him for hours.
She sat swirling the wine around in her mouth when she saw a large black sketch book on the counter. She discreetly picked it up while he was talking and undid the tie at the end. She flicked through the pages, and her breath caught, they were quite... scandalous.
"Ok so I was..." Benedict started to speak and then saw Penelope flicking through the one sketch book he should of hid away – oh god what must she be thinking.
"Are these from memory or real time Mr Bridgerton?" Penelope asked not taking her eyes from the pages. She tried, trust me, she did, but she couldn't. Her mouth was slightly agape as she skimmed through each page. The drawings were adorned with naked men and women, sometimes 'together', their bodies were beautifully captured and positioned – it was certainly enlightening. Some faces were ethereal, while others displayed pleasure. Is this what Benedict Bridgerton got up to in his spare time? Who were these people?
He was so talented.
"I-I uh, they are from old classes I used to attend," Benedict leaned over and tried to pull the sketch book from her grasp. Penelope smirked and jumped out the stool while wagging her finger, "Nu-huh, I don't think so, I'm not done Mr Bridgerton."
She strutted away from him refusing to hand over the book.
God the way done that made his trousers tighten.
Benedict sat back against the counter, and he curiously watched as she bit her lip positioning the sketch book in all positions – she was obviously to try work out anatomy parts or she was truly enjoying the art.
She smiled and looked up towards him, "They are truly beautiful Benedict."
Benedict swallowed, loudly, and then he walked towards her slowly, "I'm glad you think so."
Penelope watched as Benedict slowly removed the sketch pad from her fingers. His approach was filled with tension- his gaze never leaving her. She immediately felt the goosepimples cover her skin, she shivered at the intensity of his gaze.
The atmosphere between them suddenly shifted into something different.
"I've not drew in that book in a while," Benedict said as he tied the ribbon tightly before discarding the book on his large oak coffee table.
"Draw me."
What? Surely, he didn't hear that right.
Benedict nearly dropped to the floor.
"Sorry?" he asked, shaking his head in absolute disbelief.
Penelope bit her nail and shifted her feet beneath her gathering the courage to repeat her request, "I said..." she walked closer towards him, "...draw me."
Benedict wasn't sure if his brain short circuited or if he was hearing her correctly. Penelope for some reason was standing in front of him asking him to 'draw' her. He watched as she picked up the sketch book and placed it back into his hands. He was backed up slowly towards the armchair that overlooked his couch, he couldn't keep his eyes from her.
She was in control tonight.
Sod the dinner – he thought.
He watched as she drew in a sharp breath. She positioned herself in front of the sofa as she pulled her cream knit sweater over her head. She stood in a white tight vest top – no bra, his head nearly exploded at that vision – and then extremely tight jeans. She slowly let down each spaghetti strap of her vest top. He felt like he couldn't breathe. He wanted nothing more to raise from his chair and help her disregard every piece of clothing but for some reason his body was firmly glued to the chair. Her movements were enchanting - Benedict Bridgerton was well and truly under the spell of Penelope Featherington.
He saw her creamy skin glisten from the light filtering in through his bay windows. Thank God they had privacy film, as he wanted no one appreciating this view apart from him. She slid her vest top over her hips and slowly unbuckled her belt. He watched as her large breasts dipped into teardrops and jiggled with every move. Her pert nipples were calling to be captured by his teeth – he was sure a small groan escaped him as he watched her. His pants got extremely uncomfortable in that moment. She slid down the zipper of her jeans and he saw the white lace peek from underneath. Fuck, she was a temptress – he was done for. She hooked the waistband of her jeans and slid them down.
Benedict gulped so loudly that she couldn't help but giggle a little at his constant fidgeting.
Each inch of creamy naked skin made his heart beat a little bit faster.
She was surely going to be the death of him.
The last piece of clothing to be removed was her laced thong. He tilted his head ever so slightly in appreciation at the vixen who stood in front afore him. Her body was crafted by the gods, he was sure of it – he may have gotten a preview in underwear at the art class a few days ago... but nothing, and he knew nothing compared to the sheer beautiful scene he was currently presented with.
She watched as his eyes darkened and roamed over her figure. Penelope wasn't sure where her confidence came from, but here she was... completely naked in front of Benedict Bridgerton awaiting his instruction.
She bit her lip, grabbed her breasts and teasingly smirked, "So, Mr Bridgerton, where do you want me?"