Taking place between Steele in the Running and Beg, Borrow and Steele, Steeling the Big Apple reveals exactly what happened during that trip to New York for a wedding, mentioned at the start of Beg, Borrow.
I can never forget to thank, profusely, my beta reader/editor and friend, that ruthlessly forages through my lengthy writers to find the myriad of pronoun deficiencies while also making certain the voice of the characters remain true. These stories are as much hers and they are mine.
For the best experience when reading my stories, you will want to read them in order as the continuity of events is moved from one story to the next. The following is the order of current stories:
Steele Torn & Trying to Holt On
Cannes Steele be Trusted (co-written with the super-talented SuzySteele)
Steele Mending
Steele Working out the Details
Steele Settling In
Steele Finding Comfort
Steele Holting on To Christmas
Steele Holting on To The Holiday
Holting On To The Moments
Steele Cold Relief
Steele Hurdling Obstacles
Steeling the Big Apple
Holting Steele (Part I of Be Steele My Heart) – anticipated date of publish 3/31/16)
Be Steele My Heart – Book 1, Part 2 – anticipated date of republication 4/14/16
As always, if there is anything you would like to see in future stories or a story you would like written, just drop me a line.
I do not own the characters, profit from them, and write purely for the enjoyment, etc and so forth.
(Chapter 1)
It is one of those quirky things, traveling across multiple time zones. Board a plane in London at 7 am, fly eleven hours, and depart the plane in Los Angeles at 10 am. Board a plane in Los Angeles at 9:00 am, fly four and a half hours, and depart the plane in New York City at 4:30 pm. The latter, of course, being the case when Steele and Laura arrived in New York City for Bernice's wedding where Laura was to be in attendance as a bride's maid. By the time they navigated the arrival gates, gathered their luggage and stepped into a taxi they had to flag down, the clock had ticked steadily forward to 5:25 p.m. Laura shook her head in aggravation as she calculated their hotel arrival time. Dinner was scheduled for 6:30 p.m. and then the men were due to start arriving at their hotel suite at 9:00 p.m. for a rather sedate bachelor party of poker, drinks and cigars, while the women were to depart from the same suite, at the same time, for Club 54. When the ride to the hotel was accounted for, they would arrive shortly after 5:00 p.m. leaving them little time for them to dress for dinner, and not a smidgen of time to relax with one another before evening festivities demanded their attention. Even so, Laura virtually fidgeted with excitement about seeing Bernice and Murphy face-to-face for the first time in three years.
"A bit on the antsy side, eh, Miss Holt?" Steele asked, smiling fondly at her. Seldom did Laura let her emotions get the better of her, yet at the moment 'crawling out of her skin' would be an apt description.
"Excited, perhaps." Unlike her body, she had maintained control over her voice, so when she answered, her voice suggested that she was unaffected by the upcoming reunion. Years ago, Steele had coined the phrase 'icy calm' to describe Laura's ability to appear impervious no matter the circumstance. Therefore, he was finding her behavior right now quite… amusing.
It occurred to him after a couple of minutes had passed and her knee continued to bounce, her hands continued to fidget, that it would only be… gentlemanly… to distract her from her obvious distress. It was, therefore, with the most noble of intentions that an arm stretched across her shoulders so that the back of fingers could glide lightly down the side of her neck. When she turned to look at him, he smoothly palmed the back of her neck and drew her lips to his. As his lips danced across hers in a teasing caress, her knee stopped its movement. When his lips settled more firmly atop of hers, and the kiss changed from teasing to tantalizing, her hands stilled and she turned towards him, one of her hands glancing over a shoulder before her fingers tangled in the hair at the side of his head.
When her lips stopped moving beneath his, he pulled away slightly to look down at her. With her eyes, she signaled towards the driver, who was paying more attention to them than the crazy maze of traffic through which he was weaving.
"We've got company," she told him in a hushed undertone. Following her gaze with his own eyes, he watched the driver watch them in the rear view mirror. With a shrug, he drew her closer, his lips hovering over hers.
"Merely admiring my technique," he answered in a matched tone, before brushing his lips lightly across hers.
"And what technique is that?" She touched her lips lightly to his, then withdrew a hairsbreadth away. He gave her a look that implied she'd suddenly gone daft.
"Why the one that gets a beautiful young woman to kiss you in the back of taxi, of course." His teeth gently pulled on her lower lip. He felt her twitch against his hand slung lightly across her waist.
"Does he seem impressed?" As Laura's lips feathered playfully against his, he flicked his eyes towards the rearview mirror again, watched as the driver diverted his eyes.
"Not overly, no." His lips covered hers more fully, the tip of his tongue tracing the shape of her upper lip. Her fingers flexed against his scalp.
"Perhaps we need to switch gears." Pressing the back of his head, she kissed him hard, her tongue flicking playfully against his lips.
"Really rev the engine?" His tongue plundered the recesses of her mouth, then retreated.
"Show him how to put a spark in the plug?" Pushing herself off the seat, she straddled his lap and did some plundering of her own, drawing a soft rumble from his chest. She laughed against his mouth, as she felt the taxi jerk.
Ahhhh, bold Laura we meet again. It took him a second to gather his thoughts.
"Drive him round the bend?" His mouth found the sensitive spot under her ear, where teeth nibbled and a tongue danced. She inhaled sharply, her train of thought briefly sputtered.
"Really overheat his pump?" Leaning down she pushed aside the collar of his partially unbuttoned shirt, and sucked lightly where neck met shoulder. His body flinched against hers. She was catapulted off of his lap when the driver hit the brakes, hard. Steele's hands caught her just before she hit the passenger seat behind her, both of them laughing. Lifting her up, he plopped her back on the seat next to him, then leaned over to whisper against her ear.
"We may well get ourselves killed if we keep this up. Not to mention the effect it's having on me."
"I never knew cars had this effect on you, Mr. Steele," she whispered in return. "I might have to be more careful how I handle the gear shift in the future." He groaned low in his throat, as vivid pictures of the action she implied sped through his mind. "Who knows what must go through your mind when you watch me slip the key into the… slot. Or…"
"Lauraaaaa," he growled quietly in warning, as he shifted in his seat and crossed his legs. She laughed softly.
She grinned cheekily as saw him rub both hands up and down his face in growing frustration. He groaned loudly in relief when the taxi stopped in front of the Four Seasons, receiving a commiserating glance in the rear view mirror from the driver. Stepping out of the taxi before her, he secured a couple of buttons on his coat and tied the sash tight at his waist. When he turned to give Laura a hand out of the cab, she wore a self-satisfied smirk, having found a great deal of amusement in his diligent attention to his coat. Assisting her on with her coat, he leaned down as he lifted her hair from underneath the collar, his lips held close to her ear.
"Laura," he whispered, his warm breath caressing her ear, "need I remind you that turnabout's fair play?" When he moved to step back, he found the fingers of a small hand skim across the back of his neck, nudging his head back down. This time it was she that lay her lips alongside his ear, close enough that he could feel them softly brush his ear when she spoke.
"You might want to bear in mind, Mr. Steele, that all's fair in love and war as well." Steele chuckled low in his throat as her hand released him and she took a step away from him. As he stepped forward to lay a hand on the small of her back to escort her into the lobby, he spoke low enough that she barely caught his response.
"That I'll do, Miss Holt. Looking forward to it." Laura glanced at him, a gleam in her eye and an unspoken challenge lifting her lips.
It's on, Mr. Steele, Laura thought to herself.
And as though reading her thoughts, a response formed in his mind: Indeed it is, Miss Holt, indeed it is.
They arrived at the restaurant fifteen minutes late, but at least it was within the bounds of "fashionably late." Steele had had a devil of a time getting Laura out of the suite. On their arrival she'd insisted on taking a tour of their home for the long weekend, marveling, as she often did, at Steele's impeccable taste. The one-bedroom suite featured a living room, full dining room – currently set up with a poker table for the evening, and ceiling to floor windows that provided a panoramic view of the city outside. A fireplace offered the promise of perhaps a little romance in front of it, while the fully furnished terrace would provide an enticing place to enjoy her morning coffee. The bedroom was no less opulent with its king sized bed donned in luxurious white and beige bedding, small sitting area, and yet more floor-to-ceiling windows. The master bath was marble throughout, including the soaking tub that Laura thought might be large enough to take laps in, and sported double sinks, a separate shower, in floor heat, and heated towel racks. Heaven. As always, he'd outdone himself.
Despite the number of times Steele had taken a pointed glance at his watch while changing into a suit for dinner, Laura occupied herself with carefully unpacking and organizing their clothes, despite his insistence that they could unpack together, later. He knew there was little chance in her heeding the suggestion as her compulsive neatness would not allow for things to remain in suitcases while they went out for the evening. Even when he'd finally managed to wheedle her into getting dressed for the evening, he knew there would be more delays as she checked over their room and belongings before she'd be able to leave. It was only because of the large tip he'd promised the cab driver that they'd made it to the restaurant when they had.
Truth be told, he'd not minded the extra fifteen minutes. While Laura was thrilled to be seeing Murphy again, he was not. Murphy had always made it patently clear that he did not trust Steele and that he believed Laura would be better off without Steele in her life. For nearly three years he'd not had to contend with Murphy's condescension, his sidelong glances, his voice in Laura's ear feeding her doubts and insecurities. With their future finally wide open before them and its possibilities boundless, the last thing Laura needed was for Murphy to send her spiraling into self-doubt, which in turn would make her question all that they had been building together the last three years in general, but the last eight months most especially. No, he was not looking forward to that particular reunion at all.
Unbeknownst to Steele, Laura was, in her own rights, hesitant about the weekend. Excited, absolutely, but hesitant all the same. While Bernice had proven a good friend over the years, providing her with advice and self-confidence when needed, whenever she and Murphy spoke he never failed to speak his mind about Steele. Needless to say, none of his opinions were favorable, but rife with reminders of
Steele's past, colloquialisms like "a leopard can't change his spots," and warnings that if push-came-to-shove, Steele would save his own hide and leave her to her own devices. As much as she loved Murphy, those particulars portions of their conversations had grown wearying over the years. So much so, that she had made the decision before embarking on this trip, that if headed down the same, tired old road while they were here in New York City, she was going to have to sit down with him and have a long talk.
Still, when they arrived at the restaurant, all of that was forgotten for the moment. While she could not miss the cool greeting between the two men as they shook hands, she'd hugged Murphy warmly, and he her, when they'd arrived. Steele in turn had smiled and chuckled as he'd watched his normally refined and restrained partner squeal like a school girl at seeing Bernice, both women more than a bit giddy about seeing each other for the first time in three years. Surprisingly, dinner, all-in-all, had been a successful venture and by 7:30, they were heading back to the hotel to prepare for the next round of the festivities.
Starting a fire and flicking on the radio so that soft jazz filtered through the rooms, Steele changed into dark grey jeans and a black, grey and red checked casual button down shirt for the evening while Laura ensconced herself in the bathroom to prepare for the girls' night on the town. Wandering into the main rooms of the suite, he verified there was an ample selection and amount of beer, bourbon and scotch at the bar, that there were a sufficient number of poker chips and that a new pack of cards was waiting at the table. Then, left to his own devices and despite the chill in the air, he wandered to the front door of the suite and leaving it open a crack so their guests could enter freely, he made his way onto the terrace where he could enjoy the city lit up before him.
Slipping an earring onto her ear, Laura emerged from the bedroom and scanned the main room looking for Steele. While the room was empty, a cool draft of air from the open terrace door gave her a clue as to where he'd wandered off. Leaning against the door jamb she took in the view before her. The view of the man, not the city which was acting as a backdrop behind him. Her eyes wandered over him from the top of his head to the white Nikes he wore on his feet. She felt her blood heating, while her heart did a funny little pitter-patter in her chest. Her fingers twitched with the need to thread themselves through his hair, across the shoulders that had broadened over the years, then down his irresistible torso that tapered off at slim hips and long, lean legs. Her eyes paused, wishing the long shirt didn't conceal the firm bottom that sent her pulse pounding any time she stopped to give it an admiring glance. A sane woman would bolt the door to the suite, then keep him in bed until he begged for mercy, she thought to herself. Then sighed softly, knowing that she would always put obligations ahead of her desires, and tonight she had a bachelorette party to attend then tomorrow a wedding and all the fanfare that followed.
He'd turned to lean his back end against the terrace railing the moment he'd heard her sigh. He watched, while she was lost in thought, as a parade of emotions crossed her face: want then desire, longing then regret. It was now his turn to admire her. The off-the shoulder, long sleeved black dress clung to her slim frame emphasizing the curve of her breasts, her slim waist and the gentle flare of her hips. The skirt ended mid-thigh, highlighting the shapely legs he adored, which were displayed in their finest in black stilettos. For Laura, the outfit was positively racy, reminding him somewhat of the hooker get up that he'd dressed her in during the dental convention years before and simultaneously set his blood on fire while making him seriously consider locking her in the suite for the evening, lest other men find the outfit as desirable as he.
This time it was he caught staring, and yet his eyes never left her. With a twirl of his finger, he indicated she should turn around and give him full view of the dress. A smile on her face, she did just that, a pleased flush pinkening her skin as she took in his hungry look of approval.
"You're absolutely ravishing," he told her with a sincerity that could not be debated. Had she any doubt, the desire in his bright blue eyes would have dispelled them. She smiled at him, confident in both what she wore and how she looked in it. It was one of the things Steele admired most about her. Although issues of abandonment plagued her, Laura Holt knew precisely who she was, what she was, and she carried herself with a confidence that few women achieved.
As the last strains of Doris Day's Again hung in the air, he moved to her and held out a hand.
"May I have the honor of the first dance of the evening, Miss Holt?" A wide smile spread across her face as she slipped her hand into his and stepped into his waiting embrace. Wrapping an arm around her waist, as the first notes of Tony Bennett's For Once in My Life wafted across the terrace, he tucked their joined hands against his chest. Had Steele himself orchestrated the moment, it could not have been more perfect. As Bennett crooned the first stanza of the song, their eyes caught and held.
"For once in my life I have someone who needs me,
Someone I've needed so long.
For once unafraid I can go where life leads me and somehow I know I'll be strong."
Their clasped hands released one another, to stroke against each other, fingers entwining, unwinding then weaving together again in a dance of their own as they lost themselves in the words and the enchanting melody that enveloped them in its embrace. Her hand feathered across his shoulder then pressed against the back of his neck lightly. His head bent and their lips touched, withdrew, touched again.
"For once I can touch what my heart used to dream of
Long before I knew someone warm like you
Who have made my dreams come true."
Her fingers gently tousled the hair at the nape of his neck before journeying through the silken strands, and palming the back of his head. Their lips touched, lightly exploring their taste and texture, before his meandered away to flutter along her jaw, returning to her lips to linger for long moments. Her hand left his hair to feather across his neck then rest against his jaw, as her lips found his neck. His head nuzzled the top of hers while her lips wandered across his skin.
"For once I have someone I know won't desert me
I'm not alone anymore."
As her lips left his neck, his found hers, journeying from the hollow of her throat up the long column as her fingers knotted in the back of his hair, her eyes closed and lips parted against the sensation. Unable to resist the call of her lips, his covered them with his own, his tongue dipping into her mouth for a quick taste before his lips left hers again.
"For once I can say this is mine you can't take it
As long as I know I have love I can make it
For once in my life I have someone who needs me"
She ceased the interplay of their hands when her hand left his to skim up his chest and over his shoulders, her arms looping around his neck while his lips pressed a series of soft kisses across her brow. He gathered her closer and leaned his forehead against hers.
"Have I told you lately how glad I am we're together?" he asked quietly. Laura tilted her head back. Lying her hand against his cheek, her thumb stroking his skin, she looked into his eyes, lost herself in them.
"There's nowhere else I'd rather be." His feet stopped moving and Laura watched as the intensity of his emotions at her words crossed his face, darkening his eyes. A hand found the back of her neck, cupping it.
"Come here, Laura," his gravelly voice implored. She pressed herself closer to him, a hand moving to lie flat against his chest, as she tilted her lips up to his. With a soft hum, his lips settled over hers then froze, his eyes shifting to look over her shoulder, lips still connected, when he heard a sound nearby that was out of place on the quiet terrace. His eyes met Bernice's. With a quick twitch of his lips against Laura's he straightened. "Good evening, Miss Wolf." Laura started and turned around at his words, in time to see a flash of irritation cross Bernice's face.
"Fox. It's… Oh, never mind." At Laura's wide smile, Bernice relaxed to lean against the door jamb, from where, unbeknownst to either of them, she had watched them dance. She watched as Steele's hand stole around Laura's waist, and her friend took an imperceptible step backwards to settle herself against him. A smile played at Bernice's lips. "We knocked, and just decided to come on in when there wasn't an answer," she explained.
"Sorry, Bernice," Laura apologized. "We must not have heard over the music. Has anyone else arrived?" Laura smiled as Steele lifted her hand and swept his lips across her knuckles before stepping away from her and heading into the suite to greet any future arrivals.
"We brought Jimmy and Jeff with us," Bernice told her, referring to her husband-to-be's brothers and groomsmen. She walked across the terrace to look out over the city, then down at the street below. "My sisters will be meeting us at 54. So we're just waiting on Murphy and Sherry." Bernice turned and looked at Laura. "This is some set up you have here."
"Mmmm," Laura agreed, joining Bernice at the rail. "It's a beautiful suite. He's always had impeccable…and lavish, I might add… taste."
"I'll say," Bernice laughed. "The magnum of champagne said it all." Laura laughed with her at the memory, before looping her arm through Bernice's.
"Come on. I'll give you the tour." They wandered the suite, Bernice suitably impressed by everything ranging from panoramic view to the luxurious bedroom accommodations. Yet, like Laura earlier, it was the tub that had her turning green.
"If we had that tub in our room back at the hotel, Jason wouldn't be able to pry me out of it for the wedding tomorrow," Bernice noted, drawing Laura's laugh. Laura pushed herself up on the bathroom counter to sit.
"If you asked him to join him, he might not mind." Bernice hoisted herself up on the counter as well, and gave Laura the once over.
"How?"
"How what?"
"How do you not grab his tie with your teeth and drag the man into bed?" Laura flashed a dimple at her friend.
"Oh, I plan to. In a little over three weeks from now, he's not going to know what hit him. I'm locking us in his apartment for a week and if either of us are able to walk by the end of it, it won't be from lack of effort."
"Why wait? Laura, you're here, he's here, go for it." Laura bit her lip and gave Bernice a sideways glance.
"You know why. It's not as if we've not discussed it." Bernice rolled her eyes.
"The pill. Your doctor recommends a full cycle of them before… engaging. Yada, yada. Laura, there are these things called condoms – come in a foil packet, you can buy them at almost any store around, very effective when used correctly," she pointed out pragmatically. Laura shrugged her shoulders.
"I know what a condom is Bernice. They're what I always relied on before. I don't want that for Remington and I." Bernice's mouth fell open.
"Remington?" she asked, her surprise obvious in her voice. She gave a small shake of her head. "We'll get back to that. "What's the big deal about a condom? As you said, they're what you always relied on before. You never had any… accidents. If it were me, and that drop-dead gorgeous man looked at me like he was looking at you tonight? I'd be ripping off his clothes, slapping that condom on and making sure we both had our teeth rattled tonight." Laura tilted her head back and laughed, then grew serious again.
"I can't believe I'm going to tell you this," Laura murmured. Taking a deep breath, she plunged forward. "I don't want anything between us. I want to be able to touch him whenever I wish, not a condom. Him. I want to feel all of him, not latex – every single nuance. I want him to feel all of me, not lose part of his pleasure because of a condom. I want to taste him, him to taste me, not chemicals. I don't want us to have to stop to… attend… to switching them out." She shook her head and gave a quiet groan of frustration as a blush spread along her skin. "This is important to me. No barriers. Just us. Do you understand?"
Bernice stared at her. "I'm not sure if that's the most romantic thing I've ever heard or the most foolish... But, yeah, I understand."
Steele stumbled to a stop in the doorway of the bathroom. He'd come to let Laura and Bernice know that Murphy and Sherry had arrived, so the evening's festivities could begin. He'd had no idea he would be breaching Laura's privacy, and having done so unintentionally he felt heat suffusing his skin. That his body had reacted viscerally to her words he'd overheard only made matters all the worse. A quick glance at Laura showed she was as mortified as he based on her coloring. Looking away from her, he swiped at his hair.
"Murphy and Sherry arrived," he managed to get out, before scurrying away.
Bernice and Laura looked at one another. When Bernice's lips started twitching as she tried not to laugh, they both gave up and peals of laughter filled the bathroom.
"I don't care about what happens at my bachelorette party tonight, Laura, I swear to you. Seeing Skeeziks blush has made my night. I would have never believed he could be embarrassed over sex talk. You? Sure. Him? Priceless." Bernice laughed harder, if that was even possible. "I think I would give up my second born if I could tell Murphy what just happened."
Laura sat up straight at even the thought. "Bernice, don't you dare repeat a word of this to anyone, especially Murphy."
"You know better than that," Bernice assured her. "What's said in the bathroom, stays in the bathroom. Hasn't that always been our rule?" Bernice scooted herself off the counter. "Let's grab Sherry and get out of here. My sisters are going to kill me for making them wait in line for hours as it is."
Laura dropped down off the counter gracefully and followed Bernice into the living room. Bernice made a beeline for Jason, while Laura cast a hesitant look at Steele. She felt the flush crawling up her skin again. Fully recovered himself and seeing her pinkened cheeks, he raised a brow at her in amusement. Relieved that all was well, she went to join him at his side. A round of greetings, a couple of minutes of small talk, and the women said their goodbyes to the men. Steele followed Laura into the bedroom on the premise of helping her with her coat, quietly closing the bedroom door behind them. She turned and gave him a curious frown. Leaning on an arm against the wall, he neatly trapped her between wall, door and him.
"What's on your mind, Mr. Steele?" she hummed, keeping her expression carefully blanked lest he bring up the conversation he overheard. The backs of his fingers traced a path down her cheek then neck, stirring her body.
"A proper goodbye kiss," he told her, bending his head, his lips hovering only an inch from hers when he stopped. Her fingers threaded through his hair to press against the back of his head.
"I think that can be arranged," she murmured before she brushed her lips over his. He lifted his head and looked at her skeptically. A crease formed between her brows.
"A perfectly acceptable goodbye kiss for a lad you like in primary school," he commented blandly. She pursed her lips and lifted a brow at him, then drew his head back down to hers again. Her lips tantalized, teased and tasted, before she ended the kiss with a gentle nip on his bottom lip. He smacked his lips several times, while pretending to consider the quality of the kiss.
"Mid-secondary school, perhaps." She knew what he was up to at the outset and called him on it now.
"Perhaps a demonstration of a proper goodbye kiss is in order then?" she challenged, dimples flashing.
"I suppose I could show you the error of your ways," he teased. His lips grazed hers as a hand slid behind her neck, nudging her closer to him. His lips settled over hers, the kiss becoming more firm in gradual increments. When he heard her soft hum, he skimmed the tip of his tongue over her lower lip, encouraging her to open for him. The moment she did, his tongue glanced across the back of her teeth before stroking hers, the kiss gaining in both firmness and ardor. He waited until he felt her move closer to him, then grasped a cheek of her bottom in each hand lifting her upwards into his arms. With a small moan, her arms tightened around his neck as her legs wrapped around his hips. A hand found a cloth-covered breast as he backed her up until she was pressed against the wall. Circling his hips, he ground against her, her hands clutching at his head, her legs tightening around his buttocks. Another circular motion had her crying out softly into his mouth, telling him she was at the edge of the precipice and ready to go over with little more stimulation. Ending the kiss, he carefully lowered her back down until her feet touched the floor. He held her arms, allowing her to find her equilibrium before stepping away. Laura watched him, dazed, her body on fire, needing him to finish what he had started.
Instead, he walked to the closet and pulled out her coat, then held it up for her to slip into. She shoved her arms into the sleeves on auto-pilot, the humming of her body nearly driving her insane. With a kiss against her neck, Steele lay his lips next to her ear.
"Turnabout, Miss Holt," he whispered, "Turnabout". Stepping away he headed towards the bedroom door, while Laura sputtered where she stood. Before opening the door, he turned to give her a smug smile. Simultaneously trying to calm her edgy body and grinding her teeth, Laura gave him a look that would have most men either looking for cover or hitting their knees begging for absolution. Steele being Steele, lifted a mocking brow and pursed his lips quickly at her. With a quick swipe at his mouth to remove any traces of her lipstick, he left the room.
Laura took a deep breath, carefully schooling her countenance to appear nothing was amiss and calmly followed behind. Bernice looked at Laura as they headed towards to door to the suite, noting her swollen lips, glazed eyes and flushed skin, then at Steele who was smirking in amusement and tried to smother a laugh. Laura was the last of the ladies out the door and made it a point to close it with a slam that let Steele know the game was far from over.
Turning towards the men in the room Steele rubbed his hands together. "Shall we get the game underway then, gentleman." Four sets of eyes peered at him, then the door. It was, of course, Murphy who broke the silence with a laugh.
"It appears some things never change, Steele. I'd hate to be you when Laura gets back. You're a dead man." Steele gave him a smug smile.
"Fiery woman, our Miss Holt. I've no doubt she'll give it to me when she returns," he responded as he walked towards the poker table.
Murphy started laughing as he took a seat, then catching Steele's underlying meaning gave Steele a glare that was blithely ignored. The only comeback that came to mind was, "Deal the cards Steele and no cheating."
Steele looked at him blithely as he began to shuffle the cards. "Wouldn't even consider it, Murphy. Remington Steele's a man of honor."
At shortly after 1:30 a.m. the heads of Murphy, Jason and Steele all turned simultaneously towards the front door. Jimmy and Jeff had lost out, and left, some hour and a half before, leaving only three still standing. Murphy was steeping with anger, certain that Steele had been cheating the last hour or so, as his pile of chips, once substantial, had dwindled down significantly, while Jason and Steele's had increased in size. The anger was forgotten for a moment, as a smile quirked on the lips of all three men as they listened to a rather bawdy and clearly drunk version of The Rolling Stones' I Can't Get No Satisfaction coming from the door to the suite was slung open and Bernice, Sherry and Laura, arms slung around one another and still singing entered the suite.
The game was put on pause while the three men rose to greet their fiancé, wife and partner. The women had enjoyed a night of drink and dance. Bernice was three sheets to the wind, Sherry not far behind, while Steele, after a perusing glance over Laura, determined she was slightly off-balance and clearly enjoying a pleasant buzz, but had not reached near the level of drunkenness of the other two. Truth-be-told, it had taken a number of Jello shots and shots of Sex on the Beach – the first several knocked back with comments under her breath of 'that man' and 'all's fair' - to calm her edgy body after her 'goodbye kiss' from Steele. Watching him now, as he prepared cups of coffee from the pot he'd had sent up by room service about an hour before in anticipation of just this scene, a tongue flicked against her lips hungrily. She determined then and there he would finish what he started before they went to bed tonight and that a mind-blowing orgasm (or better yet two…or three) coupled with the alcohol she'd consumed would lead to a good night's sleep.
Placing a mug of coffee in her hands, Steele caught the lusty look on Laura's face. Leaning down he brushed a kiss along her cheek and whispered, "Don't worry, we'll be taking care of that." As he stepped around her to deliver the other two mugs of coffee to Bernice and Sherry, a hand grabbed the tail of his shirt and hauled him back.
"Damn right you will," she told him in half-warning, half-anticipation. Laughing, he took the coffee to the other women when Laura released him.
Kicking off her heels, Laura padded in stockinged feet across the room and flipped on the radio. Searching the channels, she went to sit with Bernice and Sherry after Prince's When Doves Cry began pounding through the room. Steele made a detour past the radio, turning it down to an acceptable decibel given the hour, then rejoined the men at the table. Five minutes later, Murphy sputtered in outrage amidst a string of curses.
"Laura, you better deal with Steele, or I swear to you I'm gonna kill him. I don't know how he's doing it, yet, but he's been cheating half the night."
With a laugh, Laura stood and walked a bit unsteadily over to the table where the men continued to play. Laying a hand on Steele's shoulder, she watched as Murphy dealt the next round of cards, then keenly observed as the hand played out. With another muttered curse, Murphy slapped his cards down on the table, folding. At the hand's conclusion, Jason swept the pile of the chips at the center of the table towards himself with a grin. The corner of Laura's lips twitched as she suspected that Murphy was right and Steele was indeed cheating. She wasn't sure how yet, but was determined to find out.
While the next hand was being dealt, Steele felt her sway on her feet and grab at his shoulder to steady herself. Grasping the hand on her shoulder in his, he guided her around to sit down on his lap then readjusted himself so his cards were held between them. Laura frowned at him even as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Neither of them took note of Murphy's startled glance in their direction. Bending over she told him in a whisper, "I'm not a doll to be perched upon a man's lap, Mr. Steele." He chuckled quietly.
"Merely trying to give you the best vantage point of my cards, Miss Holt." Laura cocked her head, considered what he said, then settled in on his lap. His lips twitched. Ahhh, a soused Miss Holt is a pliant Miss Holt, what a novel idea.
Laura watched as the next four hands played out. Murphy took the first with a whoop and a grin. "Can't cheat now, can you Steele, with Laura sitting right there." Steele had merely cocked a brow at him, never uttering a word. The next three hands saw Murphy uttering strings of oaths once more, as one went to Steele and two to Jason.
Steele felt Laura imperceptibly straighten in his lap as the last hand played out. His hand brushed against her knee, acknowledging he knew she'd figured out what he was doing. She smothered a small laugh and leaned her head down next to his lips at the tap of his fingers on her knee.
"A little wedding gift," he murmured into her ear. Her fingers toyed with the hair at the back of his neck in answer. Steele had been reading the marked cards, forcing the pot higher when Murphy's hand could not beat his or Jason's. He'd take a round here or there, to allay suspicion, but often folded with the stronger of hands, sending the pot Jason's way. After another half dozen hands, putting Murphy within a hand or two of busting, he felt Laura going slack against his body, heard her smother a yawn. Another tap of her knee, and she bent her head down again.
"Go take a shower, you reek of smoke from the club. I'll see everyone out." Laura gave a small nod, then gained her feet unsteadily. Bidding everyone a good night, she went into their bedroom and closed the door behind her. Stripping down on her way to the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes in her wake, Laura stepped under the steaming spray of the shower. A little tipsy though she might still be, her shoulders and lower back ached from hours of dancing and she hoped the warm water would help to work out some of the kinks. It was only when she recognized the futility that she climbed out of the shower, dried off and went into the bedroom to pull on a pair of panties and one of Steele's pajama tops. Sitting down on the end of the bed, she hung her head and rubbed at the back of her neck, trying to get the tension to release.
The quiet snick of the bedroom door opening had her turning her head to watch as Steele crossed the room, his eyes on her. Sitting down on the bed next to her, he brushed her hand away from the back of her neck and replaced it with his own.
"Overdo it tonight, did you?" Laura gave him a crooked smile.
"In both dancing and drinking, I'm afraid." He nodded at her as his sensitive fingers identified the knotted muscles in her shoulders, the tightness of her neck.
"Sore?" She nodded.
"Nothing a couple of aspirin and a good night's sleep won't cure.
"Mmmm hmmm," he hummed skeptically in answer, then stood and walked to the top of the bed to pull comforter and top sheet down. "Off with the shirt and have a lie down. I'll be back in just a moment." Laura bowed her head and turned to look at his back as he retreated to the bathroom, grateful for his thoughtfulness that was such second nature to him. Unbuttoning his shirt, she stood up and slipped out of it, lying it the end of the bed, then stretched out on her stomach to wait for him. When she heard the shower come on, she allowed her mind to drift.
She hated it when anyone tried to molly-coddle her. She was a strong woman who enjoyed the fact that she could stand on her own two feet. Took great pride in it, as a matter of fact. It was one of the things she most appreciated about Steele. He wasn't going to stick around to boost her over a fence, he was going to vault over it and then turn to look at her expectantly to do the same. Unlike most men, even Murphy at times, he had never doubted her abilities to keep pace with him. He'd never called her out for taking too many risks. Until, of course, last week during the Grey case, when he'd pointed out that it was one thing to take a risk when your partner was there to back you up and quite another when you put your neck on the line and there was no one there to make sure you walked out unscathed.
Yet there was something to be said about someone who didn't want to coddle you, but take care of you. She was beginning to understand the difference between the two. The first implied lack of faith you could care for yourself, while the latter implied caring enough about someone to want to make their life a little better, a little easier, to relieve them of discomfort. And he's so good at it. Always ready to whip me up a hot meal, draw me a bath after a long day, and to rub the aches and pains out of my body when needed.
Not for the first time in recent weeks, she recognized her own flaws in that area. What was it Steele had once told her? He was never sure if he was going to get Nurse Ratched or an angel of mercy when she tended to his wounds. He's not wrong in that, she reflected again now. The more scared I am, the rougher I am with him. She sighed regretfully, and again promised herself to remember to take more care in the future, to treat him the way he did her when injured or in pain.
She felt the bed shift next to her, as Steele sat down beside her. Opening her eyes, she let her eyes roam over him. Wearing only his pajama bottoms, her eyes gazed appreciatively at his torso, his still wet hair. Funny how fast this has become the norm between us. A testament, likely, to the fact that we've spent more time in each other's company the last four years than most married couples do on a daily basis. She watched as he poured a little massage oil into his hand, then capping the bottle, set it aside before rubbing his hands together to warm the liquid. When dexterous fingers dug into to the first knotted muscle, she hummed in anticipation of the relief that would follow.
"So, wedding present huh?" Laura asked. "Did Murphy catch on?"
"Laura, you offend me even by asking," he answered in mock outrage. "Of course not. Suspected, as you well know. Couldn't prove a thing."
"How much did you hit him for?" She asked, lifting her brow, even though her eyes were closed as his fingers massaged, dug in, then smoothed.
"Buy in was a hundred a piece. Jason, won it all. Seemed quite shocked for some reason."
"I bet," she laughed. "Bernice has always said he has no poker face."
"Mmmm, she's quite right in that. The man would be hard pressed to con a child still in their nappies into giving up their lolly." Laura laughed quietly under his hands, then inhaled sharply as his fingers found a particularly sore spot below her shoulder blades. "Did you enjoy yourself this evening?"
"I did. I haven't gone out dancing like that in a long time. Some things never change though." His hands moved down to her mid-back, wringing a sigh of contentment from her. Leaning over he, bussed the back of her neck, then returned to the job at hand.
"How so?" he queried.
"Clubs like that are still a meat market," she answered with a shrug of her shoulders, her answers coming slower as aching muscles began to relax under his probing fingers.
"Caught the eye of a few blokes then, did you? Can't say I'm surprised given that little number you were wearing this evening," he smiled.
"Caught, had tossed at me," she murmured.
"Had tossed at you? You'll have to explain that one I'm afraid." She jumped slightly when his fingers plied a knot in her lower back. "Hmmm, don't worry. We'll take care of that," he assured her quietly. She relaxed again under his hands.
"I was the only one of us that wasn't married or engaged. So the guys were tossed at me by the other girls." Steele frowned slightly, annoyed by the little spot of jealousy that twanged his nerves
"Full dance card all night then, eh?" His splayed hands ran up her back, searching for any other tender areas. When she flinched as a hand crossed below her shoulder, his fingers settled in there to work some more
"No, not really." She spoke slowly, sleepily, but was determined to hang on so they could spend some quality time together, working out some itchiness, if you will. "Mostly danced by myself or with one of the girls."
"Ah, sent the poor sods packing did you?"
"The words 'I'm committed' tend to act as repellant for all except the most determined," she yawned, as he flashed a pleased smile that she'd chosen to make her unavailability clear. "Then again, so does a heel in the foot of the more handsy ones." He raised a brow, and nodded, all too familiar with that particular trick of hers. Had the words 'more handsy' not been used to describe her victims he may have felt more sympathetic towards the men. Possibly. Maybe not at all. He shrugged.
"Yet, still, all-in-all a rollicking good time, eh?" He waited for her answer, but then when he heard the soft, stuttering sigh that passed her lips, he knew she'd fallen off to sleep. With a shake of his head and a grin, he took a moment to lament the opportunities for the night ahead that had been lost, then took yet another moment to admire her small frame lying stretched out on the bed next to him, wearing nothing but a pair of panties. He briefly – very, very briefly – considered waking her to help her slide back into his pajama top, then discarded that idea as outright lunacy. Turning off the bedroom light he slid into the bed next to her, pulling the sheet up around them as he did.
Without waking, Laura sensed his prone body near hers and reached for him. Shifting over, Steele slid his body partially under her then waited while she turned into him, settling her head on his chest, and wrapping an arm across him. Sweeping a stray strand of hair out of his mouth, he leaned down and pressed his lips against the top of her head, then settled in to allow his mind to drift, while a hand stroked her arm.
If someone had told me five years ago that a cheeky little American lass would not only drive me bloody well barmy whilst wrapping me 'round her finger, I'd have told them they'd gone off their trolley. No, he corrected himself, I'd have wagered a substantial bit of blunt to the contrary. He looked down at Laura, and swept her hair back off her face. I'd have lost my shorts, he acknowledged with a quiet chuckle.
As sleep began to encroach upon him, his thoughts began to ramble. First back to LA and a little something he'd had stashed there waiting until the right time. To the day they'd first met in what would be his office at the Agency. Then to their first dance, in which she'd displayed her fiery temper for the first time. Which, of course, inevitably led to memories of the dance they shared tonight. But the last thought on his mind when sleep finally claimed him was of the enticing little games they'd played – first in the cab, later in this room. He couldn't help but think as much as he enjoyed the bold Laura, playful Laura was a delight in and of herself.
(Continued)