Chapter Text
Penelope slid her slightly clammy hands down her thighs to smooth the fabric of her dress. Hoping it would make the length a little longer. She already felt exposed sitting on her own, at the foot of a king bed in what had to be one of the most opulent hotel suites she had ever been in. The view from the window only displayed the endless inky sky on a cold November evening.
She could feel her body tremble slightly as she waited.
Even though she had been an agreeing participant in the organisation of the upcoming events of the evening, she still couldn’t shake the feeling of nervousness.
She had felt it all day. Even getting her curly copper hair blown out and styled and buying a new midnight blue satin cocktail dress that showed off the curves of her body to perfection had done little to quell that feeling. She had teetered on her gold heels as she had made her way into the suite. Shoes of which were a good two inches higher than her preferred type of footwear. But she figured if she was going to partake in something she had never done before, she might as well go all in and explore new territories across the board, footwear included.
Her feet bounced up and down as the seconds ticked on. The bottle of champagne sat collecting condensation across the room. Two glasses standing next to it, yet to be touched.
The dainty gold watch on her wrist told her that he was almost ten minutes late.
A part of her began to wonder if this had all been some fever dream culminating in her believing that this was indeed going to happen.
Penelope Featherington didn't do things like this. But then life had never thrown her so many gut punches, one after another, before. So perhaps she did do things like this but the opportunity had simply never previously presented itself.
Getting up from the corner of the bed, she made her way to the floor to ceiling windows that ran the full length of the room. The glass was cool to touch as she looked out to the city below.
She was about to take a deep breath in an attempt to steady herself when she heard the door sound and the handle turn. Closing her eyes she took the breath and turned to face the guest who had just entered the suite.
Her eyes landed on his shoes first. They were great shoes. They looked new. They looked expensive. Her gaze travelled further up his body, navy pants, tailored well. The white shirt and navy jacket were too.
She noticed his hands. They were large but looked soft. She saw a flash of those hands running up the inside of her thighs. Blinking it away she finally raised her gaze to meet his. Staring back at her were the deepest blue coloured set of eyes she had ever encountered and a smile that instantly put her at ease. Their eyes held each other for a moment before he broke the silence that hung in the air.
“Penelope?” he asked. His eyes sliding once up and down her body. She watched his face to see if there was any hint of displeasure in what he saw. Relief flooded her blood stream when it appeared there was not.
She swallowed and nodded her head yes. “Yes.” she said out loud just to doubly confirm.
He smiled. “Colin.” He said it simply. She already knew his name. Her best friend Gen had already told her what his name was, but that was all the information she had been given. So she took him in.
Dark chocolate brown hair, kept short on the sides but had a little length at the front. Which made him look ridiculously handsome but in an approachable way. He was tall too. Not that height was a requirement, she was anything but, but she didn’t dislike it. He had broad shoulders and looked like he would be able to pick her up and toss her around if he felt like it. And a part of her, somewhere not as deep down as it probably should be, really hoped he felt like it.
Her heart rate was steadily climbing and they had spoken all of three words to each other. Perhaps this wouldn’t be that difficult after all. Perhaps she might even enjoy herself.
He turned his head to the table that held the champagne and glasses. “May I?” he asked, looking back at her. Waiting for the go ahead.
She suddenly felt the small amount of confidence she had mustered slip. Maybe he wasn’t as satisfied with her as she had hoped he would be. Perhaps this was going to be more of a chore for him than she had originally anticipated. Perhaps he needed alcohol to get through what was about to happen. Perhaps this all was a huge mistake. Before she realised it she had begun to chew the inside of her cheek.
“Of course.” she said. Her voice sounded smaller than she would like it to.
He made his way over to the table and took out the bottle. He read the label out loud. “Ruinart.” he said. There was a slightly impressed element to his voice. He worked the foil and the cage and before she knew it he had popped the bottle. “Very nice choice.”
He took a glass and filled it. He then grabbed the second and filled that as well, said action calming her a little.
Penelope stood in the exact same position she had been standing in from the moment he entered the room, watching him complete the task in front of him. His movements were smooth.
Self assured.
So was his walk when he made his way over to where she had been rooted to the floor. He handed her one of the two glasses. Tipping his own glass forward slightly he enquired “To what should we toast?”
He was waiting for her to take the lead. Something she was not good at. It was partly how she had ended up in this position. He raised an eyebrow, his gaze heavy on her, never waving as he waited for her to respond.
She looked up, through her lashes, to the man standing before her and all at once the events of the past six weeks, every emotion, every thought, every doubt came into clear focus.
Penelope knew at that moment she had a choice. She could continue on living her life in the shadows.
Unseen.
Neglected.
Forgotten.
Or she could grab onto the opportunity that was presently standing right in front of her with both hands.
“Perhaps..” she said as her eyes twinkled, a smile slowly creeping over her face. “... we toast to cheating husbands.” A smile, laced with mischief spread over Colin's face.
“To cheating husbands,” he offered back. His eyes never leaving hers. They clinked their glasses together and both took a sip. The cool bubbles settled her in a way she wasn’t familiar with.
“So I suppose there is just one thing left to discuss.” Colin stated, taking the glass out of her hand and placing it on the side table next to one of the plush armchairs, only to resume his position towering over her.
“What?” she asked, feeling slightly confused for a second. The confusion was short-lived, though, when Colin's hands came to rest just above the curve of her plentiful hips and he dipped his head down low, stopping his mouth a hairsbreadth away from her own.
He smiled, his pupils dilated wide.
“How many times am I going to make you come tonight?”