"Because we don't need them mother - We don't need them - Honestly, we don't - Mother! For the last time, we don't need 'his' and 'her' matching tea towels! - Mr Stee - Remington already has things like that - Who? - You're trying to get who? - Mother, I don't think Frank Sinatra can drop his heavy schedule just to sing at our wedding - A marquee in a palatial what? - Can't we keep it simple please? An exchange of vows at an intimate location? - After all, we're already married. Twice. This is just meant to be an opportunity for the rest of the family to share the day - What cutlery set? - Oh, that cutlery set - Mother, I don't need it - I don't need it! - I don't - Mother? Mother? Your handsome son-in-law is begging to speak to you - Yes here he is -"
Seriously stressed and vexed, Laura abruptly handed the phone to her husband and crossed her arms.
He grinned before smoothly exclaiming down the line, "Abigail!"
Laura poked her tongue out and he covered the speaker with his hand so that he could laugh at her. Reaching behind, she hit him with a cushion then returned her attention to the television.
"What's that? - Oh fine, fine - Yes, she's fine too - Work? A banner year for crime. We're as busy as ever - Married life? Wonderful. Don't know why we didn't do it sooner - Yes you mentioned that the last time we spoke - Well yes, I suppose she should have taken your advice back then - Yes it probably would have saved four years. Not to worry though, she caught the big fish in the end -"
He suppressed the need to wince aloud as he felt a vicious pinch on his arm.
"Yes Abigail, we're really looking forward to it. Just what we need, another wedding - Hmmm. We can't wait to see Frances, Donald and the children either - Children of our own? Well we -"
Laura snatched the phone.
"Sorry mother, we have to go now. Dinner's burning. Goodbye mother," she slammed it down and addressed her husband. "You enjoyed that. In fact, you enjoy it every time I have to speak to her."
"She always leaves your blood boiling, your nerves frayed and then you take it out on me, venting your frustration on my poor body. It was hard at first Laura but I've finally accepted my duty as a husband to be the sacrificial lamb," he wiggled his eyebrows.
His wife groaned then sighed heavily. "What are we doing?"
"I thought we were watching 'Notorious.' "
"Not that! I meant, what are we doing going through this? Yet another wedding! It's turning into a freak show. We're already married and all she's doing is giving me a headache."
"Good lord! And I'm really in the mood too."
"Mr Steele, I'm serious."
"So am I."
"To the matter at hand please."
He hugged her, looked into her eyes and said with deep sincerity, "Laura she's just happy for you and she wants to share your happiness - that's all. Yes, she's doing it in her own inimitable way and yes, it's taking its toll on you but once we get this over with, it's just you and me. Husband and wife, Mr and Mrs Steele."
Frowning, she asked, "Am I doing this right? This wife thing?"
The comeback was swift and immediate. "Am I doing this right? This husband thing? I've made more mistakes since I've been with you than I care to remember right now Laura. But I'm still here. And I'll still be here tomorrow and the day after and the day after that. The only way you'll get rid of me is to put me on the plane yourself. And even then, I won't go. We'll find our way together, eh?"
They smiled at each other.
"I still can't get over it. Us. Married. Y'know of all the guests mother's invited, and that includes the Queen of England, President Reagan, Margaret Thatcher, The Buddha et cetera, et cetera - I'm really looking forward to seeing Murphy and Bernice again. Have you replied to Murphy's postcard?"
"Mmm. I wrote and mailed it while you were on the phone to your mother. Ah yes, the good old days. Murphy and Miss Wolfe and a -"
"Mrs Elliott. She's married too now."
"So she is, that poor man. Did you remind me to send him a sympathy card?"
"I'm sure she's already mailed mine!"
He got up, dimmed the lights, fetched some glasses and the ice bucket before returning to his seat.
"A magnum of champagne? What's brought this on?"
"I've been thinking these past couple of weeks and, well, I finally believe we're coming to terms with the INS and Clarissa thing -"
She injected a stern note into her voice. "Where are you going with this Mr Steele?"
He filled their glasses and handed her one. "A toast Mrs Steele. I propose we adopt a euphemism for the INS and Clarissa faux pas - a kick up the backside. I needed it and so did you, admittedly, I needed it more but at the very least, it finally brought us truly together. So, to a monumental kick up the backside." He raised his glass.
She held up her hand. "A monumental kick up the backside." They interlocked arms and took a sip from each other's glass.
"Laura, I hope to never, ever hear the words 'INS' and 'Clarissa' mentioned in the same sentence in my presence again."
"Sore subject isn't it?"
"A gaping, cavernous, gangrenous wound."
"For both of us," she softly added.
"Agreed?"
"Agreed."
He looked around him. "Are you okay living here? I know how much you loved your loft. Why, still escapes me. Those damn stairs. No wonder our amorous interludes were so infrequent over there, I was too bloody knackered!"
His wife smiled and rubbed his arm. "I'm fine. Really. I feel just as much at home here too, honestly."
"Sure?"
She nodded. "Sure."
"Remember the day I moved in?"
"Of course I do, you tried to proposition me."
"Laura, I'm insulted. I did proposition you."
"Not very subtly either."
"I beg to differ Mrs Steele."
"Hah! I walked around this apartment meticulously checking that all the appliances worked, that you had running water and electricity. You watched me and after ten minutes, your exact words - I still remember because of your blatant nerve - were, 'would you like to test out the bed too Miss Holt?' "
"I said that?"
"Uh-huh."
He grinned, "Smooth."
"The second time I came here, you were entertaining a woman."
"I was?"
"Hmmm. Didn't stop you from hitting on me in the kitchen."
"I should hope not, I always had good taste."
"I came here because I had to brief you about a committee notification that came up at short notice."
"Those bloody mind-numbing committees."
"It was good PR for the agency Mr Steele. You asked your date to wait for you in the bedroom. I listed the functions of the organisation in question and you said - now let me get this right too - you said that I should sit on any one of those committees to see how boring it all is. That I should see what I was putting you through, experience the dullness of it all and the tedium. I pointed out that I was the detective and your part of our arrangement was boring, tedious committees. Then you said something like, 'on second thoughts, you're right Miss Holt. You're destined to sit on bigger and better things.' "
"I said that?"
"Yes Mr Steele, you did."
"God I'm good."
"You were right too."
Amused, he looked into her eyes. "Bigger and better, eh? Funny how, after all these years, you so easily recall the words of my various, ah, indecent proposals."
"They made an impression on me Mr Steele."
"They were the only kind of impression you'd let me make on you Mrs Steele."
"Talking of which, I do remember the night I offered myself to you here and you chivalrously refused."
"I remember that night too. I just wish there was some way you could have kept your loft."
"I haven't lost it, not really. Besides, I can now re-invest any profit we accumulate renting it out back into the agency."
"We can always look for somewhere else, you know."
"No. This is okay. We've got a history here."
"And a future too."
"Oh no!" she slapped her forehead and groaned with feeling.
"What?"
"The future."
He raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"
"The immediate future."
"Well, what about it?"
"I have to shop for my wedding dress with mother and Frances tomorrow!"
"Y'know, if you're spending the whole day with your mother, I'd better increase my carbohydrate intake. I'll need vast stores of energy to keep up with you tomorrow night," he smirked.
Laura set their glasses down, stood up and dragged him into the bedroom.
She pulled his sweater over his head and announced wryly, "Mr Steele, you have a very solemn duty to perform."
"Is that what they're calling it these days?"
"You have to put me in the mood to face hours with my mother and sister tomorrow."
"Ah, the travails I go through for the sake of your family Mrs Steele!"
"Your family too."
"Indeed Laura, indeed."
"Where are we on the Richter scale?" she demanded as she unbuckled his belt, pulled down his zip and removed his trousers.
"Twelve."
"Forget that. Tonight - it's Armageddon."
She tore off her clothes, pushed him on the bed and fell on top of him. Laughing around her ardent kisses, Steele rolled her over and shook his head.
"What's that look on your face for?"
"I was just thinking, maybe we should persuade your mother to move here to Los Angeles. That way you'd be able to spend even more time with her and -"
"Very funny," Laura murmured pulling his head down for a kiss before rolling over him and lightly brushing her lips across his face. Removing her hands from his cheeks, she traced the outline of his jawbone with her fingers before nuzzling his neck, inhaling deeply, filling her nostrils with his scent, with the distinctive smell of his cologne. He lay passive, submissive allowing her to work her magic on various parts of his anatomy.
With agonising slowness, she steadily and sensuously moved downwards, weaving her way along the length of his body. Steele's breath audibly quickened as searching hands danced through his chest-hair swiftly followed by the warmth of an eager mouth and willing tongue. She was in no hurry to move further south, dedicating copious time and energy to his torso, fascinated seeing him squirm at her touch, massively turned-on by the reaction she induced.
All coherent thought flew out the window for Steele when, at last, she reached her final destination. Delicate, light as a feather fondling was complemented and counteracted by fingers that rhythmically opened and closed firmly around him. As before, mouth replaced hands and he savoured the unmistakable feeling of her lips on him: of pressure, of suction, of sliding, of an insistent tongue passing over, around, up, down, across, licking, fluttering, lapping.
Riveted, he leant on his elbows and watched before stroking and caressing whichever parts of her were within reach. It didn't take him long to spark her own frenzied desire and suddenly, having him in her mouth wasn't enough anymore. Pulling away to straddle his torso, she drew him inch by hot, rigid inch into her hungry, waiting body.
Nothing happened for a few seconds.
Laura closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of him high inside her. Then she tightened her inner muscles around him, and relaxed them. Tightened and relaxed, tightened and relaxed, producing a distinct pulsation that excited him almost beyond endurance. Excruciatingly aroused, he reached for her breasts and for where they were joined - lightly pressing, kneading, rubbing, massaging - feeding her ardour, taking pleasure from her pleasure. The sound of impassioned moans, of heavy breathing, of fervent sighs continuously filled the air as their mutual want intensified and soared.
"Laura, don't you want me to -" It was a breathless entreaty.
Sshhh, you can do that to me later. Right now, I need to concentrate," she susurrated in response.
Focusing entirely on her own fulfilment, she ruthlessly used his body: thrusting with unrestrained passion, undulating her hips in an irresistibly insistent rhythm. Giving it to him. Giving it to him hard. Giving it to him good. Again and again and again whilst eluding hands that desperately tried to slow her down.
"Laura," he gasped. "We've got all night and early morning too."
She momentarily paused, ran her hands along his chest, leaned in for a kiss and lasciviously announced, "You're the boss. But I'm in charge."
**********************************************
The ringing of the phone the next day was an unwelcome sound to the spent couple. They'd snatched sleep at intervals throughout the night, still catching up on nearly five years of lust delayed. It shrilled and shrilled until they stirred.
"Phone," she mumbled.
"It's your mother."
"It could be Monroe."
"It's your mother."
"It's on your side," she insisted.
"You could lean over," he retorted.
"I got it last time."
"It's your mother."
"It could be business."
"You're in charge."
"You're the boss."
"At your convenience," he muttered.
"Phone," she yawned.
Stretching out his hand, Steele felt along the bedside table and accidentally knocked the telephone to the floor. "Bloody hell," he swore, sotto voce. He pulled it up by the cord, rubbed his eyes and wearily announced, "Steele here - Abigail, good morning -Yes she's here -Yes I'm well - Hold on."
He passed the phone to his wife mouthing, 'I told you so.'
"Good morning mother - No, I haven't forgotten - Really? How is she? -"
Steele glanced at Laura, smirked evilly, then bent his head to her breasts ignoring her frantic attempts to push him away.
"What was that mother? - I haven't decided yet - We'll see how it goes -"
He listened with wicked delight as she desperately strove to maintain composure. Pinning down her free arm, he devoted his attention wholly to her right breast.
"I, errm, yes - I, errm - Sunday? - STOP THAT! - Not you
mother! We -"
Trying not to laugh, Steele sucked relentlessly, sensuously swirling his tongue around her nipple until her mood rapidly changed. She stopped struggling.
"Mother? I have to call you back. The apartment's on fire." Slamming down the phone, she glared at her husband. "You'll pay for that."
He chuckled. "Next time, you get the phone."
"Finish what you started," she ordered.
**********************************************
An hour later the telephone rang again. This time Laura took no chances. She reached over her dozing husband, waking him in the process, and grabbed it.
"Hello? - Mulch! George, why are you calling here at nine o'clock on a Saturday morning?"
Steele shot up and beckoned for the phone but she refused.
"Okay Mulch, what are you and my husband up to now? - What do you mean nothing? Where did you two go yesterday? - What do you mean nowhere? - If you don't -"
He yanked the phone and held her back as best as he could while he spoke.
"Steele here George - Okay - Okay - Fine - Perfect - No that's not a problem. Wonderful - Until Monday." He hung up, stretched for his robe and put it on.
Laura crossed her arms. "What was that all about? What's going on? Is there something you're not telling me Mr Steele? You promised that -"
He reached for her hands, kissing and patting them. "Let me see: I told you that I've replied to Murphy's postcard, that I haven't sent him any more photos, that my suit is ready, that we're an unbelievably animalistic couple in bed, that I'm cooking tonight, that I only have eyes for you, that we were offered half a million dollars to look for Elvis, that -"
"Mr Steele!"
"Yes?"
"Is there something you haven't told me?"
He sighed. "Yes."
"You're keeping something from me?"
"Yes."
She crossed her arms. "I'm waiting."
He stealthily edged off the bed before saying, "I sent Murphy one of your old bras."
"WHAT!"
"Don't worry love, it was a very plain one."
"What kind of -"
Grinning, he shrugged his shoulders. "You told me not to send any more photos and you know how much I love to follow your instructions Laura!"
"I don't believe -" Exasperated, she threw a pillow and he ducked.
"You missed."
"I live here. I'll get you eventually. How could - why would you do - are you completely - you sent him one of my bras?" she slapped the bed.
Backing away from her, he flashed a dynamic smile and removed his robe giving her a view she could never get enough of.
"I'll admit my actions were reprehensible but it's your
duty to ensure I never do anything like that to poor Murphy again.
He doesn't deserve it whereas I fully deserve your wicked castigation
Mrs Steele. A hard, ferocious punishment from you. Pound it into
me again and again and again that I must correct my incorrigible
ways. Strict discipline and forceful admonishment Laura - that's
what I need. That and a firm hand. Give it to me in the shower.
And don't forget, you're spending the whole day with your mother
today … "