This is part II of another fan fiction piece by Nicola Simpson, which can be read at the following link. You should read hers first. That story is based on the premise - what if, on that fateful night in Red Holt Steele he COULD have asked? Her piece is wonderfully written and gave me such a deep sense of longing to complete the story that I did! Thanks for the idea, Nicola – I loved it!
galv_
The characters of Laura Holt and Remington Steele are the property of MTM; I am only borrowing them temporarily. No copyright infringement on REMINGTON STEELE is intended, and this story is for entertainment purposes only. Be warned that this story can be considered NC-17, and depicts consensual sex between adults.
Galvanized Steele – Part II
STEELE'S OFFICE
"And you're- still determined to live in the warehouse?" Steele asked Laura.
"Well, just think of the possibilities, Xenos."
"Yes, but is it safe?"
"I've left Nero there to stand guard."
"Even so, perhaps I should take you home." He put out the cigar in an ashtray on the desk and prepared to follow Laura out of the office.
"Oh, thanks, but I need the time to myself."
She returned to him again, kissing him on the cheek. He grabbed her hand before she could pull away and brought it to his lips, looking down into her eyes, almost pleading. "Are you sure, Laura?"
There it was again…that warmth flooding her chest and the desire starting to betray her logical thoughts. "I'll be fine...really." She pulled away and headed for the door, pausing. "But…soon I'll have you over for…. noodle soup?"
"Oh. My favorite. My favorite."
His office door closed behind Laura, and he sighed out of frustration. Throwing his dry cleaning over one of the guest chairs opposite his desk, he plunged his hands into his pockets, walked to the window and stared out at the city below. He ran a ragged hand over his face. All he could see was a replay in his mind the scene from two nights ago…the burning need he had felt to hold her, keep her safe and show her without a doubt that she could trust him. And then he recalled the unbelievable peace that descended upon him as he held her after having shared the most intimate of moments. How he longed for that closeness with her and that peace again. It seemed that the interlude had not quenched his thirst for her but had instead stoked a fire in him that he could not ignore despite her later pleas that he forget the matter entirely. "It was a mistake" she had said. "It won't happen again." And out of guilt he felt for feeling he had used her, and for not wanting to shatter her fragile emotional state, he had agreed. But he did not want to forget it. He wanted to share it with her again and again.
After several minutes, he leaned over and picked up the receiver. "It wasn't a mistake," he muttered dialing hurriedly. "Fred? Meet me downstairs please. Good man." He hung up the phone and strode purposefully to the office door. "It wasn't a mistake."
UNCONVERTED LOFT
Laura slid opened the door and gasped at what she saw in the dim light of the still unconverted loft apartment. There in the center creating a perfect perch for a waiting Nero was a grand piano. On it was an enormous pink bow and a vase with a single red rose. She picked up the card and read, "Play it again, Sam." Wiping a tear from her face, she sat down at the keys and tentatively began to play Chopin's "Prelude in E Minor."
As she played, the events and feelings of the last few days washed over her – the celebratory evening she and Mr. Steele had shared after they garnered the photos of Keever and Thorpe in the park, the shock of the explosion and the smell of smoke she was sure she would never forget, the anger that flared when Mr. Steele locked her in his apartment, and of course the reckless abandon she had felt when she succumbed to the passion and the need she had for him in her weakest moment. "It was a mistake," she remembered saying. And yet that "mistake" had tried to replace one of the most meaningful things she had lost in the explosion. Perhaps they were not using each other that night. Perhaps she had lost more in the last few days than just material possessions. Perhaps she had finally lost her heart too.
As Laura finished, Steele approached and leaned in the doorframe listening and watching her from behind. Not knowing what to say when the silence finally came and she lifted her hands from the keys to stroke Nero's fur, he cleared his throat. Startled, she turned quickly and stood up, causing the piano bench to screech across the bare floor and Nero to jump down onto the keys with a non-harmonious series of plunks.
"Careful, Laura. While I am sure he is quite the prodigy, perhaps you could keep Nero off my little housewarming gift until he takes a few more lessons from his mistress."
Nero plunked a few more keys and finally jumped down to the floor, sulking off into the darkness.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. "I told you that I am fine here."
"I am still worried about your living in such a…. a…." he paused to find the right word "an eccentric area."
"I told you. I am fine. I can take care of myself." She saw the opened sliding door and crossed to it. "It seems however that I was so shocked by your 'little housewarming gift' that I forgot to lock the door."
"Not very safe," he admonished as he shook his head.
She stood there by the open door and grimaced with her hand on the handle seemingly ready to usher him out of her new "home." She looked at him again with a questioning, almost nervous stare. "What can I do for you, Mr. Steele?"
Unsure how to answer and hesitantly meeting her eyes, he walked toward her. He chose not to argue anymore with her about her ability to take care of herself. That was a losing battle and it was not, after all, really what brought him down there. "Laura," he started nervously. I know what you said the other night…about wanting to pretend that it never happened…."
She just stared back at him, warning him with her glare that he was stepping over a line she had already drawn in that logical mind of hers. He actually stopped short of bringing her into his arms' length.
"But…" he continued then sighed, searching for the right words that would not send her into a full tirade or a flood of tears.
She continued to stare at him while a war of emotions fought behind her eyes.
"I want you to know," he pressed on, "that I don't want to forget it. Not at all. It wasn't a mistake. It might have happened a bit sooner than we had expected, but it was bound to happen….."
He reached out to take her hand, but she moved away to the other side of the doorway, placing a hand to her forehead and looking down, trying to sort out those warring emotions. "I was weak," she cut him off. "It should not have happened. " Finally, she looked up at him. "You and I…. We just…
It's not safe…." She was trying hard to come up with reasons, but the more she stared at him, the more the reasons seemed to slip to the back of her mind.
Her defensive maneuvers just built up Steele's resolve. He moved toward her, refusing to be put off again. His eyes grew to that dark, sultry blue again and shrank into slits as he concentrated only on her face and not on the words she tried to use to convince herself and him that they should not be together. He reached out to cup her cheek possessively. Instinctively, she turned her face into his palm.
"It was not a mistake," he said again emphatically. He shifted his hand around to the back of her head and pulled her to him with the other arm. His kiss was possessive and strong.
As he moved his lips over hers and coaxed her mouth open, she could feel her resolve slipping again as her arms wrapped around his body. As he pulled his head back to gauge her reaction to his onslaught, he could see that her eyes were in contradiction to her spoken protest. "We shouldn't…" she started.
"It was not a mistake, and I will not forget it," he said simply, still holding her and looking deep into her soul. "And I will never apologize for it again, Laura, because I am not sorry for having wanted you or being with you that night, and I am not sorry for wanting you right now. And I am fairly certain that you will not make me sorry for wanting or being with you in the future."
Laura stared at him, still in his tight, yearning embrace. She had no more words, no more arguments, and no more defenses.
He kissed her again, his passion rising into his throat. "Say it, Laura," he pleaded huskily. "Say it wasn't a mistake."
Tears stung in her eyes as she began to understand how she must have hurt him that night when she dismissed the significance of their joining. "It wasn't a mistake," she almost whispered.
He let out a breath he did not know he was holding and smiled down at her. He kissed away the few tears that had escaped the corners of her eyes and continued down her cheek to once again claim her mouth under his.
They broke apart only when the need to breathe necessitated it. Steele reached behind Laura with one hand never allowing his other to move from her waist. Moving her with him, he slid the loft door closed and locked it. Once the door was secure, he pinned her against it, trailing kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. He cradled the back of her head with one hand and unbuttoned the top of her dress with the other. Unclasping the front of her bra with a soft click, he teased first one and then the other nipple with his fingertips as their lips met again in a searing kiss.
"Laura," he said breathlessly, "please tell me that my piano is not the only piece of furniture you have in here." He continued trailing kisses along her jaw line and then began nibbling and sucking her earlobe as he unbuckled the belt of her dress.
"I wasn't actually planning on sleeping here until the renovations are at least well underway," she answered. I have a hotel room a few blocks over."
Steele groaned his protest at delaying their interlude. He wanted Laura now, and he did not want thoughts to invade that pretty little head of hers again and put a halt to it altogether. "Then the piano it is."
Her eyes grew wide as he swept her up into his arms and walked the few steps over to the piano bench. "What?" was the only response she could utter.
"Trust me," he echoed the words from the other night as he stood her before the piano bench and gently pushed her dress and bra from her shoulders and to the floor while again trailing kisses down her collarbone. Never breaking eye contact, he eased her back to lie on the bench, her head at one end and her knees bent with feet still in her high heels resting on the floor at the other. She unbuttoned the front of his shirt and ran her hands against the hair of his chest.
Placing one knee between her legs, and removing his shirt entirely, he leaned over her half naked body and whispered again against her ear. "Trust me, Laura." She ran her hands up the bare flesh of his back, and kissed the hollow of his neck as he moved away from her lips to the other end of the bench. Kneeling on the floor he removed her panties and placed one knee over his shoulder. She gasped as he parted her with his fingers, and then moaned when he began to use his mouth to pleasure her. She reached her climax quickly, moaning and panting and urging him not to stop. When she reached her release, he held her hand beneath his, pressed to her thigh.
When Laura's breathing returned to normal and she opened her eyes, Remington was once again above her. He cupped her cheek in his hand and rubbed his thumb across her lips before placing a gentle kiss there. "I need you" were his only words. While he straddled the bench, he gently pulled Laura up to a seated position and slid himself beneath her. She sank down on him slowly, and as he entered her, he had to close his eyes at the overwhelming sensation.
He moved beneath her with a gentle rhythm, using his feet pressed against the floor as leverage and trying to delay his release as long as possible. She matched his pace, and each was gaining pleasure from the position. "Laura…" he moaned her name as she squeezed her legs around his hips, wanting to make their joining as close as possible. When she bent her head to gently pluck the nipples on his chest with her teeth, he came undone. Suddenly, he was thrusting faster and harder, and Laura could feel her muscles tighten around him. Her head fell back as she moaned and rode the crest of her second climax. At the same time, Remington's hips jerked involuntarily to signal his release. He laid his face against her chest in exhaustion as the spots behind his eyes started to clear. When they did, he planted a line of soft, assuring kisses from between Laura's breasts all the way up her still outstretched neck.
"Laura, this could never be a mistake."
She pulled her head up to look him in the eye and smiled. "Well, one thing's for certain."
"What's that?"
"It's not safe."
END
