This Chapter contains mature themes. If you are uncomfortable with explicit content or under the age of 18, please continue on the Chapter 5.
(Chapter 4)
By the time Laura and Steele returned to their suite, their desire to be close to one another had moved from wanted to out-and-out need. After a month of too little time together, two days of teasing coupled with a night of glancing touches, sultry looks and a tantalizing ride home in which both mouths and hands had wandered, neither doubted the night would end in a very thorough exploration of one another's bodies.
Plus, as Laura had told him that afternoon, she had a plan although, based on the room service cart standing in the center of the living area of the suite, it appeared Steele had a plan of his own. Laura ran her fingers along the edge of the cart as she took in the champagne and strawberries. She tapped her fingernails against the crystal vase occupying the center of the cart listening to the tinkle of the glass, before bending down to inhale the scent of the roses held within. Turning, she pushed herself up on her tip toes and swept her lips across his.
"They're beautiful," she told him softly, fully expecting him to follow with the age old line heard by women for centuries – 'not as beautiful as you' – yet it was not forthcoming. Instead, his eyes dropped to her necklace, fingering the heart that adorned it. He'd not needed to say a word, as his eyes said it all. They shone now with the same look they'd held earlier as he'd helped her slip into the coat she'd chosen to wear that evening.
Now, he stepped behind her, and with fingers around the collar of the coat, slipped it down over her shoulders, pressing his lips to that spot where shoulder met neck, before sliding it off her arms. While he stepped away to hang both of their coats, she moved to the stereo tucked into the corner of the room and shuffled through the channels until music filled the room. In a routine born of familiarity, he moved to light the gas fireplace while she opened the champagne and filled each flute half way. Joining him across the room, she handed him a glass.
"What shall we toast to?" she asked.
"To time alone, without interruption?" he suggested.
"Mmmm, sounds good to me," she hummed. With a clink of crystal, they entwined their arms, then leaned in for a soft kiss. Taking his glass out of his hand, she set both on a nearby table then slid her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, before looping her arms around his neck. Without a word exchanged between them, he slid his arms around her waist and they began to dance. Cerulean eyes and amber ones caught and held, her fingertips toying at the back of his neck.
"You've missed them," Steele commented. Laura tilted her head to the side, considering his words.
"Yes. Not like I did those first few months, but the three of us? We were a team. Bernice and Murphy took a risk when they joined me at the Agency, knowing full well that any day everything could blow up in our faces."
"Friendship bound by a secret?"
"No. More like bound by faith. Faith that we could pull off the ruse, faith in each other. Murphy and I were friends at Stanford, later at Havenhurst."
"In on it from the start, then, eh?"
"Not at all. I realized fairly early on that I'd need help – a partner to watch my back, someone to run the office." She laughed at the memory. "Murphy hadn't been any happier than I at Havenhurst. When I first approached him, told him what I'd done, he asked if I was out of my mind. But, as straight as an arrow as he is, the idea of pulling this off had a certain kind of…"
"Allure?" She nodded and hummed her assent. "Would he have stayed I'd not happened along?" Laura lifted her eyes upward, mulling it over.
"Maybe," she answered honestly, her eyes returning to his. "I think it was hard on him. We'd been partners for two years. Then suddenly, I was working with you all the time instead of him. I didn't even realize how much you and I did work together until he said something about a year ago."
"Which was?"
"That he'd always dreamed of owning an agency of his own one day, and when he was reduced to mostly running to the morgue to gather autopsy reports, he realized the time had come."
"More than one reason to resent me then, eh?"
"What do you mean?"
"Both of our sights set on you… then feeling I'd supplanted him as your partner." She shrugged lightly.
"I guess. But whether or not you'd come along, Murphy's hopes for us, at least on the personal level, would have never come to the light of day." She laughed again. "Although he certainly made a valiant attempt at it after."
"Ah, the kiss in your office," he grinned.
"Among other things, yes," she nodded. He tilted his head and studied her, a crinkle forming between his brows.
"What other things?" She laid her hand on his cheek with a smile, before returning it to the back of his neck.
"Other than a declaration of undying devotion? Nothing." Steele grunted irritably.
"Seems Morrie Singer was correct."
"Oh?" she asked curiously.
"That Murphy's an 'unconscionable swine'." Laura's laugh hung in the air of the room.
"And how, may I ask, do you come to that conclusion?"
"Murphy was well aware that I… we…," he stumbled, trying not to reveal more than he was prepared to "… that there was something between you and I."
"And you knew that Murphy held certain.. hopes… for he and I. Doesn't that make you an 'unconscionable swine' as well?" she teased.
"Don't be absurd. Completely different circumstances."
"How's that?" she challenged, enjoying throwing him off balance. He frowned at her, lips pursed before a self-satisfied smile crossed his face.
"Because when he made his move, you and I were already doing this," he answered, tipping up her chin with a single finger to barely glance his lips against hers. The kiss was meant to be playful, but for two people already on edge, it charged the atmosphere around them and, with a single step forward by Laura and a press of fingertips against the back of his neck, it moved to a whole new level. His lips brushed hers again then settled over them, his hand sliding to the back of her neck to press her closer. Teeth nipped softly, a tongue flicked against willing lips then slid inside a mouth to plunder as a pair of hands found a tie, unknotted it then slung it aside. When a small hand glanced over the firm cheek of his bottom, Steele tore his mouth away from hers on a groan, to look down at her, assess. Her tongue touched her lips, both to savor his taste still on her mouth and in anticipation. She pushed herself up on her tip-toes and ran a series of nip-kisses up his neck to his ear.
"I have a plan," she whispered. She felt his body quake against hers in anticipation.
"By all means, do share," he rasped, his chin lifting up and eyes closing as her lips feathered across his neck to the other side.
"As close to the grand slalom as one can get without passing through that final gate," she answered, lips and mouth working the sweet spot under his ear until she heard a small moan in the back of his throat. Her lips lifted in a smile against his neck. "I take it you're agreeable then?" she teased.
"Yes," he answered on a shaky breath. His fingers trailed up her neck, then hooked around it, drawing her away from his neck and her lips back to his. Where the first kiss was hunger filled, this one was the tender, tantalizing kisses that never failed to curl her toes and make her knees want to buckle. They lost themselves in this kiss even as her hands slid from his back to his sides, slowly exploring each ridge and dip of his ribs with sensitive fingers. Only when she'd explored each one did splayed hands run up his chest to meet at the button at his throat. Slowly, nimble fingers worked free first one button then two. Only as the third was released did her lips leave his to settle at the base of his throat, to kiss, to nip, to taste. Hands that had remained chastely on her back, began to roam the skin bared by the backless dress. Needing to taste the skin there his fingers, settled at her waist, urged her to turn. She shook her head, even as her lips continued to tease.
"Not yet. My turn," she murmured. He fought the urge to clench his fists at his sides, knowing by her voice, her words, that she was about to take him on a delightfully tortuous and sensual trip. For now, he would have to settle for exploring only those areas immediately available with fingers that needed to feel her under them. He nodded then sighed, as another button was released, and fingers dipped under the cloth to touch, to tease.
Ever so slowly Laura worked her way down the row of buttons. Each release of a button demanded that every newly bared piece of skin be lavished with attention. Fingers danced, lips grazed, teeth nipped gently, a tongue tasted. She worked her magic until she woke each nerve and his body hummed. Only when the last button was released and she'd contented herself with learning every nuance of his abdomen with her hands, did her lips return to his. On a stuttered sigh, his lips settled over hers, quietly feeding on the texture of her lips, the taste of her mouth as her hands pulled his shirt free of his pants. Fingers released cufflinks, before hands ran up over his chest again, then slowly pushed the shirt over his shoulders. He shook his arms allowing it to drop to the floor. When delicate hands moved to the buckle of a belt, his body twitched as he hummed a hum of thanksgiving. She laughed softly against his mouth.
As her hands worked, slowly once more, to divest him of his belt, his lips left hers to meander across a jaw, down a neck, stopping only when they found that sweetest of spots where her neck met shoulder. Lips brushed, a tongue lathed and a mouth pulled softly, until he felt her shudder in reaction, her hands clutching at his hips, fingers sinking into the flesh. He trailed a path of kisses up the column of her neck, as his fingers found the top of a stocking, running along it, then the hem of a skirt was lifted so his hands could explore a deliciously firm and rounded bottom clothed only in an excuse of a scrap of lace. Laura arched into him, and this time said not a word as he slowly worked the dress up her body. Her fingers fumbled on the button of his pants, and she stepped back, holding up her arms as he freed the dress from her. The backs of fingers shimmied down her side as he stared.
"My God, Laura, you're stunning," he whispered. She stood bared before him, except for a tiny pair of red panties, a garter and those silky white thigh high stockings that he longed to remove from her body with his teeth. So caught up in the vision before him was he, that he was unaware when his pants dropped to his ankles. It was only when Laura kneeled down before him, removing first one shoe, then then the other, allowing him to step out of them, that he realized she had neatly divested him of all but the black briefs he wore underneath. After quickly relieving him of his socks, she stood, hands skimming his bared legs on the way up, one of those hands palming his throbbing erection as she stepped back towards him. Arms encircling her, he drew her in for a kiss that was both somehow passion filled yet mind-numbingly tender at once. She sighed and moaned at the same time against his mouth, then lifting a leg to rub against the back of his thigh, looped her arms around his neck, giving a soft tug. His hands found the fullness of each cheek of her bottom and lifted her until her legs were wrapped around his waist. He carried her to the bedroom, their lips still melded, stopping when he reached the side of the bed. Releasing her legs, she slid down his body, thighs rubbing against thighs, as pert nipples glazed across his chest when she found her feet once more. With a touch of her fingers to a shoulder, she indicated he should get in bed.
"I'll be right back," she murmured against his lips, then left his arms heading towards the bathroom.
Unlike days past when she'd pull away and he'd feel absolutely deflated knowing that she was putting an end to any further contact on the evening, Steele had no such concerns now. Instead, as he pulled down the comforter to the end of the bed, then stacked a couple of pillows and reclined against the backboard, he knew whatever she was doing it was with pleasure in mind. Yet, right at this moment, he wished she'd hurry up about it, as his body ached to feel her hands on it, while he veritably itched to feel her under his mouth, his fingers, his hands.
Strolling through the room as casually as if she were wearing one of her classically styled business suits rather than the pair of panties and stockings that she was, Laura dropped a towel, washcloth, and a bottle of massage oil off on the side table, before heading into the living room and pushing the cart of champagne and strawberries back into the room. Joining Steele on the bed, she immediately slung a leg over him and straddled his lap. Before she was fully settled, fingers found the back of her neck, drawing her near him.
"Come here, Laura," he coaxed. She hesitated. She had a plan for the evening, and didn't wish to be deterred, but unable to resist the lure of blue eyes filled with hunger she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in to him. His fingers swept her hair over her shoulders before taking both sides of her head and drawing her lips to his. He tempted and teased until she pressed her body against him. The feeling of her bare breasts against his equally bare chest saw him deepening the kiss until Laura broke away trying to catch her breath. The hand at the middle of her back flattened against it, nudging her upwards until she was on her knees.
"I need to taste you," he murmured huskily in the moment before his mouth claimed a nipple, lips alternately teasing it and giving it a firm tug while a lone finger swirled in ever smaller circles around the nipple of her other breast. Of their own accord, Laura's arms tightened around his neck to urge him closer while she arched into him.
"I have a plan, Mr. Steele," she reminded him, before a playful nip made her gasp then moan.
"As do I, Miss Holt," he smiled against her skin before trailing his lips across her chest to take possession of the nipple thus far left behind. He flicked a tongue against her teasingly, making her inhale swiftly. "And it seems yours runs contrary to my own." His lips brushed against her, sending shivers down her spine, before a tongue circled and a mouth drew her in.
"Oh god," she mumbled on a staccato breath, as her brain turned to mush at the feel of herself in his mouth. It took considerable effort to press her hands against his shoulders and wrest her breast free with a small pop. Sinking back down on his lap, removing her breasts from the immediate vicinity of his mouth, she lightly jabbed a finger at his chest, and did her best to scowl. "Uh-uh, you first."
A crooked grin lifted his lips. "By all means, Miss Holt, if you insist." And, before she could blink, in a neat little maneuver, he grasped the cheeks of her bottom and folded himself forward and over her. They landed with her underneath, facing the foot of the bed. A helpless laugh escaped her.
"Not fair, Mr. Steele," she managed to say before the swift fingers of a former thief managed to swipe away her panties and a finger swept along her core. His lips tasted the small moan that escaped her lips while he shifted to his side to indulge his need to touch her ribs, her waist, the sensitive skin of her abdomen and a hip. Her lips lifted to press against his when a moan of his own rumbled deep in his chest as his fingers skimmed along stocking clad legs. His lips left her, returning to a breast, as deft fingers returned to part flesh, find a sensitive nub and tease and tempt.
"You…first," she panted, her hand reaching down to sweep his away from her. Instead, her back arched upward, when a finger dipped into her spasming passage.
"Absolutely… me first," he agreed, words muffled by the breast in which he had his face buried. As a finger began to stroke, a thumb moved to tease a nub. Helpless against the assault on her senses, Laura gave in. Her hands sought his skin, needing to feel him under her hands when she came apart. Lifting his head, he blew across the nipple he'd been lathing as a second finger joined the first, stroking her in a smooth, fast rhythm that had her hips lifting in time to his motions. His lips skimmed along her skin to return to the other breast. A gentle nip and a firm pull was all that was needed to make her shatter. Even as he continued to stroke, an arm gathered her tight against him, as her arms wrapped around his neck pulling him closer yet, and he burrowed his face in the crook of her shoulder, rubbing his lightly whiskered face against her skin while his mouth grazed. Only when the last shudder of bliss left her body limp against his arm, did he remove his fingers from her so that his hand was free to begin a new round of sensual assaults upon her body. Realizing what he had in mind, Laura tucked a leg between his and in a neat little maneuver of her own, flipped him to his back, she landing full length atop of him.
"My turn," she insisted breathily. Pushing herself up, she perched over his abdomen. She lifted one of his hands and fluttered her fingers from tip of finger to start of wrist, making his hand flex in response.
"But these…" she began, picking up his other hand and repeating the action "… especially since you can't behave … are off limits. No touching until I say. Call it a challenge, a little game if you want…. Perhaps a little payback for the limo tonight," she smiled saucily at him. "But if you lose, and touch me before I tell you, you lose your turn." A small thrill raced through his body. Ah, playful Laura, nice to meet you, he thought in his head.
"Imaging you'll make me beg, eh?" he teased.
"Oh… I have no doubt, that you'll do just that before I'm done," she smirked.
"Is that right?" he laughed.
"Mmmmm hmmmm, it is."
"Challenge accepted then, Miss Holt," he answered with a smug look of confidence. Never before had a woman made him beg, quite the opposite was true actually. This, he knew, was one game that he would win. He folded his arms behind his head with a smile. "Feel free to start at any time," he taunted.
Laura leaned forward and pressed her lips under his ear. "Oh, I'll start," she veritably purred, before returning to the spot to nibble, suck and lathe it with her tongue, until he she felt him twitch against her mouth.
Easing a hand out from behind his head, she feathered her fingers up and down each digit from palm to tip, until his fingers clenched involuntarily. A smile playing on her lips, she brought each finger in turn to her mouth, nibbling on the pads, before taking it into her mouth, lathing it, and tap dancing her tongue across it. Peeking a glance at Steele, she found his eyes were closed and his breathing slightly elevated, a soft smile of pleasure on his lips. Her lips moved to suckle the pulse point at his wrist, until she watched his fingers flex again. Slowly she worked her way up his arm, kissing, nibbling, tasting and suckling lightly along the way. His sighs were audible before she reached his shoulder. She paused in her explorations to run her lips against his, tempting and teasing with lips and teeth until he leaned into her trying to deepen the kiss. She slid away and he chuckled. Easing the other hand from behind his head, she showered his hand and arm with the same attention at the first.
"I must say, Laura, this feels wonderful," he murmured, eyes still closed. She gave a quick nip at her bottom lip, before doing the same to him. He jerked a little at the unexpected action then settled back against the pillows once more with a smile. He was relaxed and content…and exactly where she wanted him. A single finger slowly moved from chin to waistband of his briefs, its only stop along the way to circle a navel and dip inside for a moment. Her tongue flicked against her lips as she watched each muscle twitch as her finger ran over it. When Laura looked at Steele to gauge his reaction, she found intense, indigo blue eyes leveling her within their sites. Moving forward, over him, hands twirled in his hair, while lips grazed hungrily on his, flitting away when he moved in for more.
"Lauraaaa," he complained, earning him a chuckle in response.
"I'm not done yet…not even close," she advised.
Splayed hands now stroked from shoulder to waist, pausing to allow nails to lightly scrape through the thick hair of his chest, to rub a thumb across a nipple. As hands continued to dance across his chest and ribs, exploring with a thoroughness belying the detective that she was, her mouth began a sensual trek of its own. Ear lobes were nipped and suckled, sweet spots below the ear lathed with a tongue, and a neck was kissed and its skin drawn softly into a mouth so a tongue could dance across it. Lips returned to his to tempt, taste, tease, but this time stayed when his tongue begged permission to explore her teeth, tongue and recesses of her mouth. A hand slid out from behind a head to tangle into hair, only for her to rapidly disengage from the kiss, darting away. He moaned deep in his throat at the loss of her, then moaned only louder when a tongue darted across his nipple.
"Laura," he murmured, lifting his hips under her, desperate to feel the touch of her hand upon his now throbbing erection. In response she rocked her hips, grinding herself against him, watched as a hand raised from the bed and moved towards a hip.
"No touching," she reminded him, her own breath coming a little harder now. "Don't worry, I'll get there."
"Or drive me mad before you do," he groaned.
"Perhaps the both of us," she answered, voice strained, drawing a soft laugh from him. Turning her attention to his other nipple, she lavished it with attention: a flick of a tongue, a soft nip of the teeth, a hard pull by the mouth, as a single finger moved under the waistband of his briefs to run along the edge, teasing yet never coming near the place where he hungered to feel her gentle touch. He thanked God when her hands at last reached to tug at his briefss, realizing at her joyful laugh he'd spoken the words aloud. A flush spread across his body as he acknowledged she might well have him begging before she was through.
Laura's hands left the waistband, a sultry laugh answering a disappointed moan, before a hand tucked inside, her fingers brushings across the tip of his arousal. He exhaled a hard, shuddering breath at her contact with him, his hand moving towards her head to draw his lips to his. Laura looked up and stared at his hand with a look of smug satisfaction. Catching the look he dropped his hand to the bed with a grumble of discontent.
So close. Laura pleaseeeeeeeee, he thought in his head, then cringed as he realized, in his head or not, the begging had begun. When Laura's fingers hooked around the waistband of his briefs, no hint had to be given. He gladly and hurriedly lifted his hips, sighing when she slid them off his legs. A tremor ran through his body when a single finger stroked up his shaft from base to tip. With what little ability he had left to think, he realized the competition was based on touching not pleading, and in that moment decided to toss all pride aside.
"Laura, please," he beseeched. In response she leaned over and kissed him hard and deep, as the fingers of a hand wrapped around his engorged length. A shudder of relief shook him, drawing a smile from her that he could feel against his lips. He knew a moment of panic when she sat up, and was fully prepared to toss in his hat on the challenge and yank her back down to him if she attempted to leave. His eyes rolled back in his head, when he saw her pour a little oil into her hand, then reach for him again.
She clasped his penis in her hand, opening and closing her fist around it several times, watching with pursed lips as his hips ground backwards into the bed, as she knew they would. This move, in particular, drove him mad, and she would oft utilize it to bring him quickly to release when it so suited her. Tonight, given they still had a long way to go, it suited her purposes perfectly. Running a thumb around the rim of the head, saw him grabbing at the sheets of the bed.
"Oh my god, Laura," he ground out, "Don't stop." Leaning over she pressed her lips against his, briefly, as her hand began to move. There were few things she enjoyed more than bringing absolute pleasure to this man she adored. And at the moment, she wanted to pitch him over the edge of oblivion, so that she could hear his hums and words at the peak of ultimate pleasure. Her fingers opened and closed around him again, leaving him squirming beneath her hand. Clasping him again, she picked up the tempo of her hand as it moved smoothly around him before she leaned down and sucked firmly where base of neck met collarbone, sending him careening over the edge. She leaned down to kiss him as he pulsed in her hand, his lips greedily taking all that she offered. Only when she felt him begin to soften in her hand, did she move her lips away from his, in order to sit up and reach for the washcloth and towel.
Blue eyes dazed with passion watched as she cleaned him off then tossed towel and washcloth across the room. He reached for her then, needing to touch her, only to be met with a shake of her head.
"Uh-uh, I'm not done yet." At her words, he wasn't sure if he should thank God once more or damn fate.
"What more?" he asked, he asked his nerves lit in anticipation and something akin to dread.
"You'll see," she answered with a lift of her brows, leaning forward. He stared at pert breasts topped with hardened peaks that were now at eye level. His tongue flicked against his lips in eager anticipation, hoping that she would lower herself down so he could have a little taste.
"You have no idea how to play fair, Laura," he complained as his hands fairly itched with the need to palm one of the succulent little mounds.
"I play to win, Mr. Steele," she drawled. With a touch of fingers to a shoulder, she told him, "Turn over."
He grinned, then rolled to his stomach, believing that it would not be possible for her to push him to the point of begging in this particular position. Laura, on her part lifted her brows, knowing that his mind would wander in that direction and knowing that he would be wrong. Stretching out to reach the cart, she gathered a handful of ice cubes in her hand. At her movement and the clanging of ice against metal, he opened his eyes to see what she was up to. His eyes widened, as he realized he'd forgotten that Laura's creativity for taking him to the edge knew no bounds. Knowing now what was on her mind, had his entire body growing taut.
Dear damn, I'm going to be begging within minutes, he thought to himself. Seeing the look on his face as she slung her leg over his back to perch on his glorious behind, Laura knew she'd won the game before this round ever started.
"Let's begin, shall we?" she teased.
His back arched when the tip of an ice cube ran along his shoulders, Laura's mouth trailing behind in its wake. He hummed, deep in his throat, as the ice cube moved slowly down his spine, her mouth catching the rivulets of water that formed when the ice melted against hot skin. Scooting back, until she straddled his legs, Laura circled the ice cube at the base of his spine, lips and tongue lathing the sensitive area, leaving him quaking and fisting the bed sheets in his hands.
"My God, Laura," he mumbled, as his back arched again.
But it was not until the ice cube began its journey over a cheek of his behind then continued downward over the back of a thigh, that he truly understood, for the first time, what the expression sweet agony meant. The feeling of cold meeting hot, the tiny streams of water running down his skin, the press of Laura's lips, the touch of her tongue against the sensitive skin, sent his desire into the stratosphere. He twisted the sheets in his hand, resisting the urge to beg for mercy. When her teeth nipped playfully at a cheek, he tossed away his determination.
"Enough, Laura," he finally groaned, as he shifted his hips to release the pressure on his throbbing arousal.
"Not nearly enough," she purred in disagreement. Pushing herself up to perch once more on his bottom, she leaned forward and began to rub the tautened peaks of her breast against his back, drawing a deep guttural moan from him, before two hands eased between his chest and the bed, the ice cubes that she had palmed rubbing against his nipples. His breath hissed between his teeth, and he gave in to the need to plead for mercy.
"Laura, pleaseeeee, I can't take much more of that," he croaked. In response, Laura stretched the length of her body across his back, her breasts pressed tight against his skin, as her mouth began to suckle and nip at the base of his neck. She felt his heart rate escalate, his breathing become ragged as he was overwhelmed by so many sensations at once. A single hand slid out from underneath of him, only to tuck under his hip and clasp his hardened length. His hips lifted so quickly in response to the contact that he knocked her right off of him, sending her sprawling to her back on the bed, laughing. In a moment of desperation, he flipped himself onto his back, lest she consider starting the assault on his senses once more. Pushing himself up to recline against the backboard again, he slung an arm over his eyes, fought to regain control. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how one looked at it, Laura was having none of it. Moving to the end of the bed, she picked up a foot and skimmed her nails along the sole. His leg flinched almost violently in response.
Lifting his arm, he looked down at her past his heaving chest.
"Laura," he said warningly.
"What?" she batted her lashes at him in faux innocence, then ran her nails over the sole of his foot a second time. His foot jerked again, and he leaned up to brush her hand away. She raised a brow. "Giving up?"
He grimaced visibly and flopped back onto his back.
"Not on your life," he murmured, slinging his arm back over his eyes, pursing his lips quickly at her in a kiss. Laura puckered her lips, and seeing that he was slowly climbing back down the mountain of pleasure she'd been shoving him to the top of just a minute earlier, decided it was time to put this little game to bed. Laying his foot on the bed, she bent over it as her hand reached upwards. She nibbled along the tips of his toes, while her nails gently scraped along the inside of his thigh. There was no hiding the almost violent intake of breath, or the sound of a hand slapping the bed as it reached the twist in the sheets. Moving slightly backwards, she leaned over the second foot, while her fingers moved to tickle along the underside of his scrotum, her eyes watching as his erection jumped. Her lips glanced along his calf, until her mouth stopped to pull against the skin on his inner knee ripping her name from deep within his throat.
She tittered with satisfaction. Moving up the bed on her hands and knees, she slung a leg over him, straddling his abdomen with her back towards him. Leaning over, her lips found his inner thigh, while fingers of her free hand tickled his perineum. He was prepared to beg her to set him free, allow him to touch, when he lifted the arm from his eyes and saw her perfect, delectable little bum wiggling in front of him, just begging for a hand to run over it. As though that were not enough to make a grown man cry and praise the gods above, the fact that that little bum was perched over the shapely legs he adored, that were currently wrapped in thigh high stockings, destroyed whatever resolve he might have left.
"Laura," he panted her name, drawing her attention. She turned her head to look over her shoulder, saw the desperation on his face, as a hand hovered near her thigh.
"Do you need to touch?" she asked in a sing-song voice.
"Yes," he admitted on a hiss of breath. She quirked her lips, taking momentary satisfaction in the fact that she'd won, then set him free. "Go ahead, then."
His hands shot out and grasped her hips, pulling her backwards, his teeth taking a playful nip at the cheek of her bottom. He caught her off guard, and she let out a squeak as she scrambled away. Laughing, he pushed himself to a sitting position and gave chase, his long arms wrapping around her waist and drawing her back to him before she could escape. Lips found the crook of her neck, as a hand quickly found the breast it had been craving to touch. Her back arched and her hand reached behind him to cup his head in her palm.
"I'm not done yet," she moaned.
"I've not yet started," he countered silkily, as his lips skimmed up her neck and a thumb flicked across a nipple. His hand nudged at her hip, and she turned in his arms at his silent request. Lacing her fingers through his hair, she leaned into his kiss when his lips met hers. He fed hungrily, a testament to the levels to which she'd pushed his desire, before he settled into the tender, teasing kisses, that made her toes curl. His hand traced her ribs, explored the sensitive skin and waist, traversed a firm bottom before sliding along silken stockings that made his pulse race. She smiled against his mouth while a hand dipped under his shoulder to lightly score his back with her nails. He arched his back on a hum, wrapping an arm around her and flipping her to her back.
Looking down at her, he flipped her hair over her shoulder. A single digit skimmed down a cheekbone, over a jaw, before following a path from neck to hip. He knew he had not wrested control from her, that she was only allowing him as much as she wanted and would turn the situation on its heel the moment it suited her. It was an aphrodisiac in itself that she not only matched his passion but his determination to bring him as much exquisite pleasure as he enjoyed bringing her. For now, however, the smoky amber eyes looking up at him watched his every movement, asking that he drive her over the edge. My absolute pleasure, he thought to himself.
Leaning down, his lips meandered across the column of her neck until they found that sweet spot under an ear that turned her to mush. He lathed, nipped, suckled and blew until she squirmed beneath him, while his fingers drew pretty patterns across the sensitive skin of her waist and hip. Her lips parted, inhaled a short gasp, her eyes never leaving him. His lips returned to hers to tantalize, provoke, while long tapered fingers found a breast, tracing its outline before ever so slowly spiraling inwards until a nipple was brushed. On a soft cry against his mouth, her back arched upwards and even as fingers explored his hair and scalp, managed to nudge him in the direction where she most wanted to feel his mouth. With a final, playful pull on her lip, his lips left hers to nip-kiss a path to a breast. She sighed deeply when his mouth found her nipple, taunting it until it puckered hard and proud, while his hand found her thigh exploring the silken stockings with a rumble of deep pleasure. With a touch of regret, his hand abandoned its explorations so that a single finger could slip along her core while his mouth left one breast to find another. Brushing aside the flesh of her wet folds, he found the center of her desire, and rubbed, once, twice, three times, his mouth pulling in tandem on her nipple, sending her over the edge. An arm moved behind her back, pulling her to him as her body shuddered and writhed during her climax, the soft call of his first name spilling goosebumps across his skin.
For long moments, she lay trying to regain control as her body still twitched in the aftermath, yet as always, before she recovered from the beauty of the first orgasm, he was starting her on the way to her next. Swift hands divested her of the garter, leaving only stockings behind, as his lips and mouthed paid tribute to the dapples of color on shoulders and chest. Leaving her, as hands reached to bring him back, he returned to his semi-reclining position on the bed, before a touch of his fingers urged her to join him. Slinging a leg over him, she settled herself on her knees then leaned back against him.
If asked, Steele would be unable to pinpoint a single reason that this was the position in which he most liked to explore her lovely little body for there were too many reasons from which to choose. It was in the way her head lay against his shoulder, the breath from each quivering sigh and fervored cry caressing his neck, cheek or ear. It was in the availability of her lips, to touch, taste, explore. It was in how he could watch her skin turn rosy in response to the passion he evoked from her with each touch. It was that she was totally open to him and in the way she would watch as he stroked and plucked while his skillful hands pushed her towards the peak. It was the feel of her round, firm little behind clenching against his erection as she climbed upwards and the moan rending friction when she squirmed under his hands. It was her fingers tucking behind his head to thread through his hair or dipping between their bodies to tease stomach, hips, her hands only stopping their movement when they would clutch at his sides when she shattered. And it was in how he was able to hold her close as he pushed her over the precipice, feeling each tremor, each clenching muscle as she found her release. Yet, perhaps, if pushed for a definitive answer as to why, it was simply because this was the way he'd first held her in Vail when at last she'd given herself over to their mutual desire.
For Laura, it was positively intoxicating. The feel of the silky hair of his chest rubbing against her back sent currents rippling through her body, only heightening her response to watching his long, tapered fingers orchestrate any number of paths to make her climb ever upwards until she shattered. The fact that it was his hands that she watched, as they journeyed along her body… those hands that were her favorite part of him… only made watching all the more arousing. The fact that when she moved, her bottom brushed enticingly against a very sensitive part of him heightening his own arousal was an outstanding perk in its own right.
Lips returned to neck, nipping and nibbling, before the touch of fingers to a cheek urged her to turn her head so lips could meet. They fed on one another as his hands studied her curves, the plane of her flat abdomen, lacing his fingers intermittently with her own, only to leave to memorize the map of her body once more. Her fingers traced a path across his shoulder, up his neck, to trace and ear, before making a pathway through his hair. A palm on her abdomen urged her upwards to her knees, as the crafty fingers of his other hand, sought to unleash the secrets of the folds of flesh between her legs. As two fingers slid inside, finding that most sensitive spot inside and began to stroke, fingers that had discovered her breasts in his hand's journeys, plucked and flicked at sensitive nipples. His mouth left her then, to taste, to nibble their way along shoulder, a neck, below an ear. A small hand reached between them and fingers feathered across his twitching length, found the head, circled and teased, drawing a fierce moan from his lips. He increased the tempo and pressure of the fingers inside her, and when he suckled on the skin at the base of her neck, she shattered.
"Remington," she called out on a soft sigh, before she cried out at the force of her climax, his mouth finding hers so that he could taste her as she found her release. When the orgasm finally released its hold on her, she sunk back down on his lap running her hands over the arms that held her tight against him, before threading her fingers with his and laying her head back against his shoulder.
"Amazing," she murmured against his neck. A single finger touched her chin, urging her to turn towards him. Turning herself in his arms, she watched as his lips descended towards hers. The tenderness of the kiss left her breathless. When their lips parted, he laid a hand against her face and she leaned into it. With a pull at her bottom lip with her teeth, and a lift of a corner of her mouth that flashed a dimple, she took her hand in his and drew his middle finger into her mouth, suckling it. His hips jerked beneath her at the sensation, turning her amber eyes molten while a lascivious smile danced across her lips that held a promise of what was to come.
Pushing herself up to settle more firmly on Steele's lap, Laura traced intricate patterns down both sides of his neck with her fingers. Splayed fingers moved to his chest, unpainted nails skittering down the length of his torso from shoulder to waist, then back up again. Fingertips fluttered through the dense hair of his chest. She watched his pecs flex and jump under her fingers, enthralled by the way the hair would skim over the top of exploring fingers then fall back into place when they left. A single digit circled his nipple, his body tensing in anticipation of her touch. She arched her back, her lips lifting in a sultry smile when his hands drifted along her back from shoulder to bottom, stopping to play with the top of her cleft before moving to stroke the sensitive skin of her hips. Her attentions on him never waned, despite the shivers of pleasure that brought goosebumps to her skin.
His eyes never left her as she paid rapt attention to his chest and torso. He found her utterly beguiling in this. The looks that played across her face when she touched him here mesmerized him as he tried to identify each of them: Passion, contentment, fascination, satisfaction, desire, solace, hunger. As much as she claimed his hands were her favorite part of him, it was in his chest that she found a connection that he'd not yet been able to identify, perhaps never would be able.
A thumb brushed over his nipple before her hands darted away to touch, explore, investigate the nuances of his ribs, each one deserving of its own attention. The tips of two fingers found the sensitive spot hidden between two ribs, digging in lightly, causing his body to jerk, a laugh to be pried from his lips before a hand caught hers and moved it away with a soft warning, "Laura," he drawled. She looked up at him, feigning innocence, even as laughter danced across her eyes. Pulling her hand from his, her fingers moved back to a nipple, tracing its outline, before two fingers caught the tip between them and rolled it between them. His swift intake of breath spoke of his reaction and turned into a rumbling moan when her fingers exchanged places with her lips. As her mouth suckled and tongue flicked against him, a hand tangled in her hair, while hips writhed beneath her.
"Laura," he mumbled quietly. She looked up at him from under her lashes, still holding him in her mouth, her eyes promising what was to come.
Her mouth released him, then fluttered across his chest before bestowing the same attention his other side, drawing another call of her name, while a hand skimmed over her bottom, began to knead the flesh there. She shifted, to kneel between his legs, slipping away from the hand that toyed with her hair and massaged her scalp, then bent over and traced a path from chest to navel with her mouth and tongue. As the muscles clenched in his stomach, he let out a stuttering sigh. Two fingers delved into the top of his hip, making his hips buck and a hand to reach out and twine his fingers with hers.
"Laura," he intoned in another warning growl. She laughed deep in her throat.
"What?"
"You know what," he answered, looking down at her with a single brow raised. She grinned at him, then moved further back to graze her lips against the bare skin of his hips, while fingernails lightly glanced across the inside of his thigh. Easing her hand from his, she clasped the base of his erection in her hand, fingers opening and closing around it, while she nipped, lathed and suckled on the skin on a particularly sensitive area of his hip, wrenching a guttural moan from him. His hand flopped against the bed, then twisted a sheet in it. With a quirk of her lips she left the spot, only to return to him when her tongue ran up his aching length. He inhaled almost violently at the contact and when she swirled her tongue at the tip of him he sat up suddenly, two hands reaching under her arms to grasp her trying to pull her up to him. She slipped out of his grasp, a small frown of confusion forming between her eyes.
"Don't you like it?" She watched as he swiped a shaking hand across his lower face.
"It's not an… area… in which I've… ummm… indulged… often," he stammered. She gave him a curious look. Her hand reached out to stroke him, making his body tremor.
"Really? I'd have thought…. Why?" she asked, with tilted head. Her fingers opened and closed around him. His fingers clenched at the sheets as his hips rotated of their own accord. He gasped, when her thumb ran along the rim of the head.
"Can we… discuss… the why's," he gasped, "…later."
"Do want me not to…?" she persisted.
Do I not want your mouth on me, covering me? Are you insane?
"Good God, yes," he forced out on a groan. Her lips lifted in a smile, as curiosity departed her eyes to be replaced with smoky desire.
"You have no idea how many times I've dreamt about doing this for you," she murmured before leaning back over him to trace a vein up the side of his throbbing length.
"Have…you… now?" he forced out between deep gulps of air, while her tongue moved up the other side of him.
"Mmmm," she hummed in answer, as her thumb circled his rim, "Often." She leaned over and nibbled along the sensitive side of his shaft playfully. "Haven't you ever thought about me doing this?"
Steele's entire body was taut with anticipation, yearning to feel her take him into her mouth. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of Laura… Laura!... touching him, tasting him. His pulse raced, heart pounded, and any ability to think was long ago lost at the moment her tongue had traveled up his length. Surely the woman doesn't expect me to carry on a conversation now, he thought. While she's… The thought was lost when her tongue swirled around his head, the tip of her tongue toying with the slit.
"Haven't you?" she persisted. Truthfully, Laura well knew that his mind had turned to mush, his glazed eyes attesting to that fact. But she found it … amused her… to watch him try to string together a comprehensive thought.
"Haven't I…what?" he managed to get out, the thought slipping away when she blew against the dampened head. He groaned deep in his throat and pressed himself up on and elbow so a hand could lace in her hair.
"Thought about me doing this?" she answered, trying not to laugh. Her lips slipped over the head, and she sucked softly, flicking her tongue against it, while her nails scraped lightly along the underside of his balls. His entire body quaked in reaction. The arm supporting him gave out, and he sunk to his back, fingers losing her hair, yet his eyes never leaving her.
"Was… I … breathing?" he managed to gasp out. Lifting her mouth from him, she took him in her hand, opening and closing her fingers around him several times. His hips rose from the bed and she smiled, reveling in the fact that she could bring him this much pleasure.
"How often did you think about it?" she asked, before leaning over him again to nibble to taste. She was finding it increasingly difficult to think herself, as holding him under her hands and in her mouth, his reactions, were taking her own body to the edge as well.
"Lauraaaaaa…" he beseeched. "I can't think…" She slipped her mouth over him, taking nearly half of him inside, rending a swift "Oh, god" from his lips. As she moved over him, he tried to finish the sentence on a stuttering breath, "… when you're… doing… Oh, god… that." She released him from her mouth again, teeth nibbling the head, tongue circling the rim.
"I know," she laughed, her breath against him an erotic sensation in its own right and his body jolted in reaction to it. Her tongue stroked his length, before she took him back in her mouth, this time establishing a rhythm that would take him over the precipice. She watched as his hips stiffened and the muscles in his abdomen grew tight, then reached under his testicles to rub a thumb along the hard yet very sensitive area there. He forced himself back up on an elbow, touched her hair lightly.
"Laura…" he breathed.
She knew he was warning her that he was near, that she could back away if she wanted. Her hand rubbed the inside of his thigh, letting him know wordlessly that she was exactly where she wanted to be. She watched from under her lashes as he lay back and a look of pure bliss crossed his face as he shattered, his hips thrusting gently, uttering her name as he did. She kept him within her mouth, sucking lightly until he flinched from the overstimulation, only then releasing him. In that moment, he surged forward and grabbed her under the arms, dragging her up his body, then neatly flipped them, so he lay atop of her. His fingers toyed with the hair on either side of her face as his mouthed grazed lightly against her lips before deepening the kiss, needing to taste himself on her, to taste her through himself. He dropped his head to her shoulder, breathing in her scent, as her hands feathered across his back until he fully relaxed against her. Lifting his head, his lips sought hers anew as the fingers tips of both hands stroked lightly against her cheeks.
Steele felt Laura quiver underneath him. Opening his eyes as their lips still clung to each other, he saw from the look on her face that without so much as a touch, she was near already. The fact that the mere act of bringing him incredible pleasure could set her body aflame, stole his breath. What will it be like when I make you mine? he wondered, not for the first time. His lips left hers, traveling along her neck, down her chest, stopping for a taste of a delectable breast, before continuing in a path down her abdomen. While he'd had every intention of promptly returning the favor, spying those glorious legs of hers wrapped in that sensual silk hosiery that sent his nerves afire with only a look and had him reconsidering.
An appetizer before the main course, perhaps? he wondered. Laura, who had been watching each touch of his lips, each sweep of his hands along her body, saw his indecision and laughed quietly, drawing his eyes. With a lift of his brows at her in acknowledgment that she'd noticed where his attention had wandered, he decided not to resist the powerful lure. Appetizer it is.
Pushing himself into a sitting position, he reached for a leg, and ran both hands down its length before his fingers caught the edge of the stocking and began rolling it down, his lips traveling along each newly bared piece of skin. He paused to suckle the inside of a knee, and, when the stocking was fully removed and Laura was softly sighing, he nibbled a toe before turning to the other leg and giving it the same attention. The only thought Laura was able to solidify in her mind was that if she'd known of his fetish for stockings, she would have certainly worn them to the office frequently. A little payback, if you will, for how often he'd left the buttons of his shirt open once he'd realized the view would set off a myriad of interesting reactions in her body.
Any further ability to think left her when he ran his hand up the outside of her leg, then with a gentle nudge of his fingers, spread her open to himself and his mouth descended on her. She inhaled sharply when his tongue found the sensitive nub at her apex, swirling around it then flicking. She hummed, deep in her throat when he moved lower and his tongue pressed into her sheath for a taste of her essence. But it was when his tongue returned to the swollen nub and a finger slipped inside her that she cried out, clamping her thighs against his head. The fingers of his free hand nudged her legs back apart as she writhed beneath him and hips softly, slowly bucked in time to his rhythm. Her hand searched for and found the hand on the arm on which he leaned and their fingers threaded together as she shattered, calling out his name again. A shimmer crossed his body in response to the fact that it was his first name that she chose to call as she took flight then slowly drifted back down.
Only when her body jerked convulsively at his touch, did he shift to lay the length of his body atop hers, leaning his forehead against hers as his fingers laced through her hair.
"Laura," he whispered. One arm found his back and a hand began to rub, while the other hand tangled in his hair before pressing his head downwards, until it lay against her shoulder, his face tucked into her neck where he could breathe in her comforting scent of honeysuckle and fresh grass. They lay that way for long minutes, neither speaking, content to bask in one another's presence as they relived the time that they had just shared. It was Laura who first gathered her senses together enough to speak.
"Join me in a hot bath?" she asked. Steele lifted his head, and pressed his lips against hers several times before answering her with a grin.
"Any chance I get." She nudged at his shoulders and he pulled himself up and off of her.
"Grab the champagne and glasses then, while I get it started." Sliding of out the bed, she strolled across the bedroom. He watched the graceful sway of her hips as she walked away, and once more thanked the stars above that not only was she as comfortable in her own nudity as he, but that she matched his ardor in the bedroom as he'd always imagined she would.
Grabbing the champagne and glasses, he followed behind her, remembering, with a quirk of his brow, their time spent in a hot tub in Vail. The thought was enough to bring his body back to life, and he was suddenly looking forward to what mischief he could cause when surrounded with hot water and Laura.
Laura, wearing Steele's pajama top, lounged propped up on pillows at the head of the bed, while Steele, clad only in the matching bottoms, sat close to the end of the bed with her foot in his hands, working out the knots brought about by standing attendance at Bernice's wedding, followed by dancing, then shopping, then yet more dancing later in the evening. While certainly more than used to wearing heels all day and doing everything from leg work to chasing suspects in them, the spiky stilettos she'd worn through all those events put more pressure than normal upon her arches. She'd not even realized how much until the journey to the bathroom when the tendons had throbbed.
Dipping a strawberry in the now lukewarm chocolate, she leaned forward and held it out while Steele took a bite, a grin spreading across his face, then watched as she dipped the remaining portion of the strawberry into the chocolate again and popped it into her own mouth. Tilting her head, she considered him for a moment. If I ask, will he answer me or avoid the question? she wondered. My curiosity is killing me. With a shrug, she decided to test the waters. The worst thing that could happen was he would refuse to weigh in.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Mmmm," he assented wordlessly. Laying her foot on the bed, he picked up the other one, noting her grimace at the first press of his fingers.
"Why?" she left it simply at that, knowing he'd understand where her mind had wandered. He glanced at her, then returned his attention to her foot.
"Uhhh, Laura, there's not a person I know of who doesn't have boundaries and proclivities when it comes to sex."
"What do you mean?" He turned to look at her again, considering her carefully.
"Well," he mulled. "For instance… on the streets of Brixton there were many girls who sold themselves, if you will, in order to put food on their stomachs, or in hopes of finding a warm place to kip at night. But even then there were boundaries. Some refusing to kiss a customer, but willing to perform any other act, while others had no issue with kissing but would only have intercourse and nothing else. They'd established their boundaries of what was personal and what was business."
"So you're saying it's a personal boundary for you? I guess I don't understand. What is sex if not personal?"
"Ahhh, you can't confuse the fact that just because there are people involved that something is personal, just as one can't confuse sex with intimacy."
"I'm afraid you've lost me."
Steele blew out a puff of air, then pursed his lips as he tried to find a way to explain what he meant to Laura.
"Do you remember the story you told me in Vail? While we were in the screening room?"
"Of course."
"Were there…uh… things… you'd have gladly done with Wilson but would have been unwilling to do with the professor or… what was his name?"
"Marty Kloppman," she supplied. She considered his question, then nodded her head. "Yes, there are things I would have done with Wilson but not with either of them. But Wilson and I were together a long time, living together even…"
"There was an intimacy between the two of you that didn't exist between you and the professor, Kloppman. Wouldn't you say?"
"Of course."
"Alright," he nodded. She pursed her lips at him, unsure still of where he was headed. "When you and Wilson were together, if he'd have had sex with another woman, would it have bothered you?"
"Of course it would have. We were living together, committed to one another."
"Had your professor had sex with someone else, would that have bothered you?" He grinned when Laura actually snorted at the thought.
"No, I'm sure he was. He was… convenient… nothing more. But I told you that."
"Mmmm," he acknowledged. "You did." Patting her on the bottom of her foot, he laid it down on the bed, then scooted up to recline against the backboard next to her. "So, would I be wrong if I were to say that sex between yourself and Wilson was personal, whereas what was between you and the professor was nothing more than a few quick shags to, um, appease some biological urges?"
"No," she shrugged. "I would say that would be a fairly accurate assessment."
"So sex is not always personal is it, then? Sometimes it's nothing more than two people assuaging biology, looking for a little relief, or it is nothing more than an amusing shag, a way to pass time."
"I see your point," Laura said with a nod of her head. She glanced over at him as she began to realize where he was leading her. "Are you saying that oral sex is not a normal part of your, uh… repertoire… because it's too personal?"
"In a manner of speaking." He reached between them, and picked up her hand, threading his fingers with hers, then held their hands up. "I cannot recall a single woman that I've done this with, let alone on a regular basis as I do you. It implies a level of intimacy, a desire to be close, that I've not only not felt but also did not wish to convey."
"Not even with Anna?" The words slipped out before she'd measured them. She cringed and turned her head away from him, feeling as if she'd crossed an unspoken boundary between them, hating that it might have been born of a lingering jealousy of the woman that had taken him from her, at least in mind. "Don't answer that. I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry." Steele smiled and shook his head in amusement. He gave her hand a soft squeeze then a little tug. She turned back to face him at the silent request.
"You speak freely of Wilson with me, why would you expect less than the same from me where Anna is concerned?"
"Anna's…. complicated," she answered, unsure how to explain it.
"Because I, as you put it, shut you out when she first appeared in my life again whereas you'd not done the same to me when Wilson appeared in yours?"
Freeing her hand from his, Laura crawled across his body, then nudged him over. Steele slid to recline against the pillows she'd just vacated and waited until she settled her head in his lap, her body stretched across the width of the bed. This was the position in which they'd had some of their most intimate conversations, a familiar one, a comfortable one. Picking his hand back up in hers, she began drawing pretty patterns in his palm and over his fingers.
Blue eyes followed the movement of her fingers in the ensuing silence as she considered his words. Involuntarily, from time-to-time his fingers would contract when she would hit a particularly sensitive spot. In another context her ministrations could have been considered a form of foreplay, her light touch sensual. But in this context he wasn't sure how to describe her actions other than nice. Keeping us close, linked. He would gladly wile away an entire afternoon doing nothing more than this.
"I guess that's as good a way to put it as any," she finally answered in acknowledgment to his question, drawing his eyes back to her face.
"Mmmm," he hummed, picking up a strand of her hair and fingering it. "And saying Anna is complicated is as good of a way to put it as any, as well, although not in the way that you mean."
"You've lost me again."
"It's true, that I fancied myself…" he stumbled "…close to her. But there was never a true intimacy between her and me, other than what she wished me to believe. But believe it I did. So yes, with Anna. But what she and I had was never like what we share. Holding hands? This? Our weekends together?" He shook his hand. "She and I never shared anything like this. None of it. This, with you, is an intimacy I never imagined I wanted, let alone would find." She nodded, concentrating on his hand.
"So, what I did for you tonight…implies intimacy in your mind?" He lifted his brows at her, giving a careless shrug of his shoulders.
"In a manner of speaking, yes. Requires a degree of trust, as well, on behalf of both parties… that each will… uh… shall we say … take a great deal of care with the other. I've not implied a trust that does not exist with my… assignations… and have been careful not to imply an intimacy I neither felt nor was looking for. Not through endearments, promises some perhaps hoped for, or acts."
"And with me?" she asked, focusing fully on his hand. Steele gave a small chuckle, his fingers moving to brush her hair away from her face before stroking the side of her face with the back of them.
"I think we're both well aware that I trust you." A dimple flashed and she nodded, her attention still riveted on his hand. "As for intimacy? Ahhh, Laura, what is our time together if not about intimacy? Presence, closeness. It's nearly everything I've wanted for us for longer than I can seem to recall."
"Nearly? Beyond the obvious, is there something else you want?"
"Mmmm."
"What's that?" she cocked her head to look up at him. His eyes held steady with hers when he answered, wanting to make sure she understood how serious he was in this.
"More time, for one." Creases appeared between her brows, her eyes searching his now.
"We're already together at work all week, spend our weekends together."
"Mmmmmm. Yet I want more." Laura's mouth fell open in surprise. Steele laughed, and touched a single finger under her chin to lift it and close her mouth. "Now, whilst you masticate that thought, it's my turn. If not a hedonist, a seeker of the fairy tale or one of the jaded, what does that leave?" he asked, repeating the question that he'd asked her earlier at the wedding, before they'd been interrupted. He watched as Laura's agile mind switched gears, setting aside the old conversation for the new.
"Hmmmmm. The realist, I suppose." She answered, recapturing his hand in hers and resumed tracing her fingers across it.
"Ahhhh, I see. And the realist, what are they seeking and how do they find it?"
"Realists don't seek. They've accepted that the fairy tale is a myth, but they don't resent it or still secretly hope to overcome it, unlike the jaded. They're not out there actively casting their line hoping to land a big fish, or whiling away their evenings hoping to find their Prince Charming or Cinderella. For some, a fling here or there to keep their bodies sated, but by no means hedonists. They know there are people out there that have beaten the odds, that have found that person who completes their vision in some way. Like Frances and Donald, completing one another's visions of the life they wanted. But the realist recognizes the odds of finding that person are long and they would be much better off betting on themselves. They pursue other dreams, many equally as fulfilling in their own way."
"The Agency," with a brush of fingertips against her cheek, he smiled down at her.
"Yes," she nodded, looking up at him and returning his smile.
"If not looking, where then did Laura Holt find the Milton's and Maxwell's of her life?"
"Milton and I never dated," Laura laughed.
"Is that so… Binky?" he asked with an arched brow, drawing another laugh from her.
"Still curious about that are you?"
"I might admit to having thought about it a time or two or fifty." They shared a laugh together, Laura's tethering off into a yawn. Steele nudged her head with the thigh laying underneath it. Linking her fingers with the hand she'd been toying with, she pulled herself into a sitting position then after he'd pulled a pillow from behind his head and shifted lower on the bed, folded herself into his waiting arm. She nestled herself into side and shoulder as he turned out the light, the room swathed in the soft lights from the city outside the bedroom window. "So, if the realist is not… how did you put it … on the prowl in singles bars and other like venues, where are they seeking their connections?"
"They aren't. Connections are a matter of chance. An introduction by a friend. A innocuous meeting at some event where mutual interest is discovered. A business connection that takes a quirky turn." He felt her shrug against him with another yawn. "That is how I met Maxwell. Barbara and her husband were consulting with him on some investments they were interested in. Invited him to one of their dinner parties where I happened to be in attendance. He was nice. Smart. Good sense of humor. Great kisser." She laughed to herself when Steele shifted uncomfortably underneath her at the last words. "We went out a few times. Then we didn't."
"No spark?" He tried to keep his voice neutral although an irrational flame of jealousy had ignited at the thought of her in Maxwell's arms kissing, doing… other things. A hand moved to stroke her shoulder, her arm. A reminder, almost, that when Maxwell had made a play for her only a couple short months before, she had unequivocally chosen him with two simple words, 'I'm committed.'
"No, there were plenty of sparks. It took me a few dates to realize he wanted more than I was willing to give."
"Ah, tried to entice you to turn that proverbial corner too soon eh?" he asked a bit smugly, a tone she caught.
"Oh, sex was never the issue. Not with him or others guys I dated." She'd tried to intentionally tweak him, and if the tension in his body and sudden cessation of movement by his hand was any indication, had succeeded. This time she did chuckle at the response. Steele bent his head to look at her. She blithely ignored him, but playfully ruffed his chest hair with her fingers. "No, he still believed in the fairy tale, and I wasn't looking for a knight in shining armor."
"Wanted to ride to your rescue, did he?" On another yawn, she snugged herself a little tighter to him, seeking the warmth of his body while rubbing her head against his chest in what could pass as a no.
"Nothing so prosaic. It was little things. When we'd go running he'd deliberately slow his pace. One weekend, a group of friends gathered to play ball. He was pitching for the opposing team. Decent pitcher too. He threw me soft." A shoulder shrugged against his body.
"Poor bloke didn't realize you wanted someone who would outpace you and demand you to keep up, eh?"
"That's a fair summary." The hand that had been rubbing his side, sputtered and slowed. "Binky Jones," she said softly.
"Binky Jones?"
"Played shortstop for the Brooklyn Robins for ten games. That was the entirety of his professional career. When we are at Stanford every once in a while the guys would let me get out there on the field, toss the ball around for some fun. Milton said I was Binky Jones, because my baseball career would never last more than ten games."
"Did it?"
"It was the seventies… I was a girl… Never made it to ten..." her hand stilled and on her soft sigh, Steele knew she'd given into sleep.
Tightening his arms about Laura and tucking his chin down to lay against the top of her head, Steele settled in not to sleep but to let his mind wander. How, exactly, does one get a stubbornly independent woman like Laura Holt, who'd managed to keep him at bay for four years, to acknowledge that she, as much as he, needed more?
(Continued)