Author's Note: this story is posted to Literotica for the purpose of entertainment and feedback. I do not give content or trigger warnings, proceed at your own risk. Anything that has more than one chapter will be considered slow burn by this site's standards, but I usually post quickly.
LEOPARD is the second of four novellas that follow one story from the perspective of each of the characters. IVY AND WINE is the first novella, told from Penny's point of view.
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There's a huge stack of media mail on the checkout desk and I smile when I see it, knowing how happy Penny is going to be. As I round the corner of the desk and reach for an empty cart it's whisked out from under my hands.
"Excuse me!" Brenda barks, her feathered and frosted hair vibrating just under my nose as she barges into my personal space. Her Eau de Imitation perfume burns my nose as she aggressively shoves the cart away. "I'm using this!"
"No problem," I say mildly, giving her just a little bit of exaggerated camp in my voice. "Guess it's good that I put all that time in at the gym this week!"
I scoop the packages into my arms and toss my head, putting a swish into my steps as I head to the back. I can feel Brenda's outraged gaze burning between my shoulder blades, but Penny's leaning over the computer desk, and I immediately feel my aggravation evaporate.
"Penny, daaarling!"
Her head pops up and she smiles. My heart stutters in my chest at the sight of that slow, shy curve of her full lips, and I cover for my idiocy with some silly prattle. I watch the pink bloom into her cheeks as we talk about books, loving how she glows even under the fluorescent lights.
Everything about her has captivated me since the first time I saw her, surrounded by toddlers as she made up silly voices for a children's book. I'd just ducked into the library for a cookbook on a whim and there she was, placed in my path like a gift from a divine hand. I watched her read while pretending to browse the historical fiction, memorizing everything from the straight slope of her nose to the weave of her loose cardigan.
I'd waited until she returned to the circulation desk to check out, striking up a conversation just to hear the slight lilt of her questions. I went home in a fog of what Dave had called "twitterpation," desperate to see her again. Eight months later, I was putting in nearly a full work week volunteering just to spend time with my obsession. I've been patient, but virtue is wearing me down.
My eyes follow her throughout the day, my ears attuned to the cadence of her voice as she moves through the stacks and checks out customers. I try to put myself between her and Bitter Brenda, turning the older woman's endless criticism and complaints on myself. Despite my best efforts Penny looks wilted and discouraged as she stands on the front steps at closing time with her keys still dangling from her fingertips, her gaze vacant.
"Hey, pretty lady, want a ride?"
She startles out of her thoughts and gives me a weak smile. As I usher her into the passenger seat of the Tesla, I can't keep from indulging myself. My hands are drawn to her like a magnet to iron, and settling her in, making sure she's safely buckled, gives me an excuse to touch her. She smells like fresh fruit and books, sweet and subtly spicy. It makes me hungry, in a way no amount of food could satisfy.
"You need a girl's night," I tease. "Wine, good food, gossip." She laughs me off, mumbling something about pizza and a book. I know all about Penny's books- fantasy with so much spice and kink they should have parental advisory stickers. She still blushes when I catch her reading them and I wonder what she would do if she could read my mind. The things I want to do to my sweet girl should come under the counter wrapped in brown paper.
I've been trying to get Penny to come home with me for months. When she reveals her depressing plans for the holiday weekend I see my chance. Catching her hand, I rub circles on her palm until she relents, letting me entwine our fingers. Her hands are such a complete reflection of her- soft, smooth, with sensibly short nails and a muted sheen of pearl pink polish. They fit into mine like puzzle pieces, perfect.
I don't let go of her until we reach my home and I have to open the gates. Her eyes are wide, shocked at the opulence of the house. I've joked about being a well-kept man but I deliberately underplayed just how well, not wanting to distance her from me. Money is a two-edged sword, opening doors with one side and closing minds with the other. I don't want anything coming between the two of us.
My stomach tightens with nerves when I see the silver flash of Darren's Land Rover at the corner of the house, realizing that both of my lovers are home already. I make light of it knowing that I can't turn back, but I don't let go of her hand.
Only Dave is in the fragrant kitchen, dancing while he cooks, and I let out a sigh of relief. Dave is my rock, as steady and reassuring as the sunrise. I catch Penny's eyes wandering down his chiseled body before jolting back up to his head, her thoughts as easy to read as a billboard.
"I brought Penny," I whisper in his ear as I stretch up to kiss him. He smacks my ass playfully, his eyes lighting up.
"About time," he murmurs back, and I step back to let him work his charm on her, watching her body language start to relax. She makes small talk with him while I pluck grapes from the appetizer platter, trying to keep my hands occupied.
Darren slams through the French doors and Penny freezes, her entire body tensing up. I curse under my breath and start forward, but Dave steps in before I can rescue her.
"Tone it down, jackass," he snaps in Greek. "You're scaring our guest." He gives me a subtle sign and I scoop up the wooden serving board, giving Darren a warning glare.
"Don't you dare fuck this up," I add, tilting my head toward Penny. He has the grace to look embarrassed, his eyes finally registering her presence and narrowing with interest. I flounce out with the food, keeping a sharp ear out for any sound of distress. I love them both, but Darren is intense, in the way only the truly driven can be. My sweet, sheltered girl has no defense against that kind of force of personality.
The fire is started nicely when I hear them at the door. Penny's flaming face and damp eyes have me at her side in moments, pulling her away from my men as she tries to reassure me. She fusses at my pampering and I ignore the amused looks between Dave and Darren. They have their own agendas that merge with mine, but they don't know her the way I do.
She's twisting the cuffs of her cursed sweater down over her hands, her nails making tiny red half moons in her palms. I push a plate of finger foods into her hands to stop her from mutilating herself any further and start yammering like an idiot. I don't even care what I'm saying, all that matters is watching the furrow of her forehead relax and hearing her laugh. The wine stains her lips to the color of roses and the fire warms her skin to gold. She relaxes against me, her soft curves torturous as they meld against my body and I finally get up the courage to do what I've wanted to do for ages, pulling her dark blonde hair from its fussy bun and letting it spill down her back.
The wavy strands are silk under my fingers, sliding across my hands and filling my head with her berries and spice scent. Darren's eyes zero in on the way they catch the light, gleaming. His hypnotic gaze moves to her face, and I feel her sway towards him. I smile, knowing all too well how it feels to be drawn in by those dark eyes, that soft, persuasive voice. Dave looks at me, eyebrows raised, and gives me a tiny warning shake of his head. I nod slightly.
