In Sickness and in Steele
By LoveSteele
NC-17
2002

Author's Notes: This takes place during the late season 4 timeline, no particular episode involved. The INS does not exist. :)

***

Laura and Remington exited the plane with exasperated sighs. The flight from New Orleans had been overbooked with teenagers and twenty-somethings who thought it would be fun to fly back from Mardi Gras while still slightly tipsy. To make matters worse, first class had been booked, and they had sat three rows apart in coach for the flight home.

To top it off the case hadn't gone as planned. Franz Covington, third in line to the fortune of Clyde Covington Developments had assured them that his father's murderer was in Louisiana. So convinced, even, that he paid them $15,000 upfront with a promise of $25,000 more if they found the killer. All they found were dead ends and crowded streets. That is, until they found Clyde Covington Jr. engaged in a most inappropriate act with a slightly less than eighteen year old assistant secretary. Too bad he had a pleasure for murder that matched his sexual escapades. She hadn't even have a chance.

However, it had been perfect timing for the detectives when they stumbled upon the scene. Remington subdued the man while Laura phoned the police. He would undoubtedly be extradited to California once his murder trial for the young woman was finished. Remington phoned Franz to give him the news, and the poor man dropped the phone out of shock. In denial, he vowed to protect his brother at all costs and assured Remington that the remaining fee would be couriered to their office the next Monday. So, case closed but one more tragedy added to the Covington clan.

All Remington could think about as they exited theterminal was a hot shower and a trip to Hollywood Park. He never could stomach the cases that ended miserably, even if they were paid an obscene amount of money in the process. His immediate desire was to be clean and then to spend a few of those hard earned dollars on the ponies.

"Mr. Steele?" he heard from some distance away.

"Mr. Steele!" Laura shouted, causing passers-by to turn their heads in curiosity. "Fred's waiting over this way," she said and headed for the limo.

Remington followed Laura to the car, grateful that Fred was there to toss his bags into the trunk. He figured he had enough strength to stay awake for the car ride home, and his new mission for the day was to make it up the elevator and toss his bags to the floor of his living room before passing out on the couch or his bed if he was lucky. He didn't notice Laura's look of concern as he climbed onto the seat. Yes, the ponies could wait a few days. He tipped his head back and slept.

A half hour later they pulled up in front of his building. Laura gently shook him awake and pointed out the window. "We're here, Mr. Steele."

Fred popped the trunk and politely offered to carry Remington's bags. Before he could respond, Laura answered for him and told Fred that they would be fine. He watched her carry her two bags plus his smaller bag through the front entrance. His remaining piece of luggage felt as heavy as all the gold in Fort Knox. They made it up to his apartment at last, and Remington tossed his bag over the back of the couch.

He followed Laura to the bedroom and sat when she told him to. She took off his shoes and told him to take off his jacket and tie. "I don't feel so well," he mumbled and turned to lay down. He face met the pillow with a soft thud.

***

Laura had known something was wrong. Ever since they got to New Orleans, Mr. Steele had been tired, sluggish and cranky. Not his usual self by any means. In fact, he hadn't even made a pass at her during their three day trip. She had imagined a stroll with him through town, maybe holding hands. They would have walked to the places not inhabited by partiers or drunkards. It would have been romantic.

She had failed miserably to seduce him on their first night in town. Lead after lead had turned sour, and they were both frustrated with the day. She had suggested they go out to dinner someplace romantic to take their minds off the day's failure. He had agreed and had made reservations at a trendy spot not far from their hotel. Dinner had been fabulous, and the wine had gone straight to her head. They'd walked back to the hotel in silence. Mr. Steele hadn't even bothered to charm his way in to her room or, heaven forbid, kiss her. He'd gone straight to bed, and she had spent most of the night tossing and turning in sexual frustration.

His mood didn't improve over the next two days. Laura's botched attempt at a nice romantic night cap was put to shame the next evening when Mr. Steele, for the first time in their relationship, refused her intimacy. Rebuffed, she now thought. Rebuked. He claimed a chill and a headache. She silently thought that was her line, but again spent the night frustrated and hurt.

When they caught Clyde the next afternoon she was secretly pleased. They could catch a plane to LA, and Laura could hide in misery for the remainder of the weekend. She wondered what her butt would look like when she buried her head in the sand out of embarrassment.

Now, however, it was obvious that this wasn't personal. Oh, the feelings of foolishness remained, but Mr. Steele was ill. A fever, a chill and fatigue were obvious. He hadn't even noticed that she came up to his apartment with him or helped him undress. Not a word, not a joke. Nada. She would stay until he woke and sent her home.

***
Remington woke early the next morning. His head felt clear and he didn't notice the chills that had plagued him the past few days. His arm was numb from sleeping on his side, and he still wore his trousers and dress shirt. And socks. And belt. What in- Ah, yes. Laura. She'd dragged his sorry self to bed and practically tucked him in. He hadn't even been well enough to secretly enjoy it.

He struggled out of his clothes and padded naked to the shower. Ten minutes later he was clean and tucked safely in his robe. He popped his head out of his bedroom and saw Laura asleep on the couch. The luggage was neatly stacked at one of the ends. She'd had the sense to change into her pajamas and grab a blanket from his closet. Poor thing. He didn't have the heart to wake her.

He headed back into his bedroom and quickly dressed into jeans and a gray t-shirt. For some reason, Laura's eyes always grew round when he wore casual clothes. He suspected she harbored some fantasy about him in jeans. Maybe-- Oh hell, he thought. He was starting to remember the past few days with some clarity. Laura had been... beautiful to say the least. He remembered dinner out with her. A long stroll back to their hotel. Him heading straight to bed without so much as a 'thank you for a lovely evening' or a 'would you like to come in?' He remembered feeling like hell and sleeping ten hours straight. The next night got worse, he remembered. Laura in a tight fitting black dress. Again, he had been so tired. He'd flat out rejected her advances.

I'm an idiot, he thought. An idiot. Well, the least he could do was make her breakfast before she hustled her pajama covered bum out the door. He figured she'd be gone within fifteen minutes of waking. So, he carefully tiptoed into the kitchen and set about making French toast.

***

Laura woke to the delicious smells of fresh made... French toast? For a minute she had thought she was back in New Orleans. Again, she'd tossed and turned on the couch. Frustration mocked her yet again. This time the frustration was due to Mr. Steele actually being sick. Her futile attempts at seduction (and now she could see just how futile) had been so off the mark. She should have known he wasn't feeling well. Speaking of which, why was Mr. Steele cooking while he should be resting?

The answer to that would have to wait while she took a quick detour to the bathroom. A few moments later she stopped to look at her reflection while she washed her hands. The left side of her face was etched with the pattern from the couch. Her hair was plastered to her head. Her eyes were red. Lovely, she thought. Her toiletries bag was in the living room. She ran her hands through her hair to try to tame it but gave up, made sure her pajama top was conservatively buttoned and made her way to the kitchen.

She found him bent over, poking through his refrigerator. His jean covered butt was finely shaped, she noticed with amusement as she watched him rummage around the fridge. She knew he had to be feeling better if he was already showered and changed. Especially if we was wearing jeans. He hardly ever wore them, much to her dismay. Suits were nice, jeans hugged his rear.

"You're up," she said as a greeting. He stood and turned to her. His gaze took in her appearance and he eyes agreed with her state of dress. "You're obviously feeling better."

"Yes, well I suppose I have you to thank for that, Laura." He got back to the grill.

"I don't think I did anything, Mr. Steele. You all but passed out last night." She eyed the two breakfast trays. Orange juice and coffee for her, orange juice and tea for him. He slid two slices of toast onto her plate and turned off the burner.

"My doorman would have found me slumped out in the hall if you hadn't have helped me in." He grabbed the trays. "So, let's eat before you're on your way." He took the trays into the dining room.

"You didn't have to do this you know. Not that I don't appreciate your cooking." She sat at the table and watched him sit, spread the napkin on his lamp and dive into his orange juice.

"Just consider it a thank you for putting up with me the past few days. I was a wreck. I apologize." He dove into his French toast.

"Please, Mr. Steele. It's fine. You were well enough to catch Clyde Jr., anyway. That should make you very pleased with yourself," she said, trying to sound light-hearted.

He swallowed and took a sip of tea. "I'd hardly call his running into me 'catching Clyde,' but I'll take your praise just as well."

"He ran into you?" she squealed. "I... I thought... Anyway, it doesn't matter. We nabbed him. We made a nice profit, even if his brother Franz is going to pay for his defense. It's not our problem he's in denial."

"You're absolutely right. So..." he trailed off and took another bite.

"So?" she asked.

He swallowed again. "You can take a shower before you go, if you'd like."

"Why do I get the impression you're trying to get ride of me, Mr. Steele?" Not that she hadn't thought about bolting the second she woke.

"I'm not, Laura. I just thought that you would want to get home as soon as possible," he stared at his half-eaten toast. "Because you usually leave when you're uncomfortable," he said to his plate.

"Ah. I see," Although she didn't, really. Her anger flared, however, and she threw her napkin to her plate. "Well, I'll just change and be out of your way!"

***

Remington sat stunned while he watched Laura storm over to one of her bags. She grabbed it and stormed into his bathroom. He heard the bathroom door slam a moment later.

"Very smooth," he told himself and cleared the trays from the table. Way to charm her. Right into your bathroom! He sighed. He hadn't meant to upset her... just the opposite, in fact. He wanted to give her a green light to leave without having to come up with one of her usual excuses.

He knew she was embarrassed about what happened on their trip. He had been ignorant of her behavior at the time, but looking back on it now made him cringe. It wasn't very often she tried to initiate things between them, and they had been in a beautiful city with no Mildred to contend with. They'd even had the weekend in front of them if they'd wished. He'd been too sick to even want to pay attention to her affections.

Now she was upset, thinking that he didn't want her to stay. He always wanted her to stay. He hoped she understood that she had a standing invitation at his place... bedroom or no bedroom. His door was always open to her.

Still, he didn't feel like expending his limited energy on fighting with her but walked over to his bathroom door anyway. He heard the shower stop. Laura was mumbling something under her breath, but he couldn't hear through the door. "Ah, what the hell," he said and knocked on the door.

"Laura?"

"Go away. I'm getting dressed."

"Look. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to get upset or for you to leave. Can I come in?" He knew she'd say no, but he tried anyway.

She didn't answer for a while. "I'll be out in a minute," he finally heard her say.

He sat on the edge of his bed while he waited for her. An eternity later she opened the door. She had toweled her hair dry and was dressed in the slacks and blouse she'd worn the day before.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"Yes. Thank you for letting me use your shower," she told him and held her overnight bag in front of her.

"You're welcome, Laura. It's no trouble," he told her and stood to take her bag. "It's never any trouble having you here. Ever," he said and searched her face for understanding. She nodded. He took the bag and set it aside. "You don't have to leave," he whispered and took her hands in his. "I'll understand if you want to." He kissed her fingers and prepared himself for her imminent departure.

"I just thought..." she trailed off as he kissed her other hand. "What I mean to say is that I thought you wanted me to go because you're tired," she finished her lame excuse.

"Tired? Ah, yes, like before," his eyes saddened while the memory of their trip flashed across her features. "I believe I owe you this," he whispered and bent his head to hers. The kiss was soft and all too brief, but Laura didn't pull away. He held her hands between them and watched her open her eyes a moment later.

"You don't have to make it up to me, Mr. Steele," she said in her usual defensive manner, but her attempt at deflecting the issue wasn't noticed by him. He kissed her again, released her hands, and pulled her to him. Her body felt soft and warm from the shower. Her lips were minty fresh and parted beneath his tongue. She didn't try to pull away, much to his amazement. Her hair was damp, and he held the back of her head as they kissed. Their teeth clashed and they adjusted their angle, bumped noses in the process, laughed and kissed again. Finally, he pulled away and gave her a chaste kiss to her forehead.

"Let me apologize for not noticing how beautiful you looked the other night. I should have noticed regardless of my being sick," he told her. Laura tried to respond, but Remington silenced her with another bruising kiss. "So beautiful," whispered as their lips parted for air. His body was quick to respond to Laura's kisses, and he wondered briefly if his arousal would threaten her. She broke the kiss and took a step back. As usual, he thought. Any time they got remotely close...

"The dress is in my bag."

***

She couldn't believe she was telling him this, but she mustered all the confidence she could find. "It may be slightly wrinkled by now, but if you want to see it again..."

His sigh of relief wasn't lost on her. If the bulge in his jeans was any indication, he was very much in favor of her slipping into something a bit more comfortable. Anyhow, the thing cost two-hundred dollars... might as well get the intended response she had in mind when she bought it.

"It's in my other bag, if you'd be so kind, Mr. Steele," her eyes flickered to the living room.

"Won't be a moment," he told her and was out the door. Five seconds later he was back with her other bag.

"Turn around, Mr. Steele," she told him and set the bag on his bed. "Don't turn around until I tell you." She pulled the dress from the bag and was happy to see that the sleek material was only slightly wrinkled. She quickly shed her clothes, stuffed them into the bag and drew the dress over her head. It shimmied down her body, and she twisted this way and that to get it to hang right. She grabbed the matching shoes as an afterthought and stepped into them. Her hair would have to do... He hadn't seemed put off by it a moment ago.

"You can look," she said and watched him turn around to face her. She knew she wasn't the picture she had envisioned when she tried the dress on at the store. Still, if the wild-eyed look he gave her now was any indication, it worked.

"You wore this two nights ago, and I didn't notice?" She couldn't tell if his question was serious.

"For two hours, yes. Dinner at some 'smarmy dive' I think you called it. You... When we got back from dinner you went straight to your room. I don't think you were even aware of what you were doing," she finished, obviously depressed at the thought.

"Obviously... turn around, Laura," he twirled his finger in the air.

She did a little runway twist and turn for him, as much as the dress would allow. His eyes grew wider, if that were possible.

"Incredible. I must be the blindest twit on the face of the planet!" He chastised himself but smiled. He held out his hand, and she took it, just as she would have back in New Orleans. "I have to say, I think I'm a little under dressed, Miss Holt."

"Nonsense. Perhaps 'over dressed' is more appropriate. Lose the shirt," she told him and helped him lift it over his head. Not entirely sure she knew what she was doing, she kissed his chest and wrapped her arms around his back. He tensed for a moment but quickly recovered and held her loosely while she explored him with her lips. She planted soft kisses along his throat and behind his ear. Her nerves quickly gave out on her, however, and she froze against him.

She felt his arms surround her and hold her close. She knew he was waiting for her to make the next move. To the bed or out the door, she knew that he'd let her decide what would happen. It scared her, empowered her and caused her to become confused. Should she stay? Was he even healthy enough for this?

"In case you're wondering," she felt his chest rumble at the sounds of his words. "I'm fine with anything here, Laura. It was enough for me just to see you in this," he told her and smoothed the dress down her back. "I'll drive you home if you'd like."

He was giving her an out. A safe, cowardly out, she knew. Her usual self would have thanked him for being so kind about it, but she knew deep down that she didn't want to leave. She was warm in his embrace, and she knew he would be gentle and kind and patient if they made love now. She had all of her things with her, condoms even, and they would be safe and happy for the weekend.

She tried desperately to loosen her muscles, and after a few seconds she melted against him. He sighed and she felt him press a kiss to her temple. Now or never...

***

He held her while she made her decision, noticed the way her body relaxed into his and sighed with relief. He kissed her as chastely as his taut body could manage and made no move to draw her to the bed. There would be plenty of time for that, and his biggest concern was that he not scare her off. Still, his pants were much too tight, and Laura was much too dressed for his liking.

"As much as this looks wonderful on you, Laura," he ran his hands up and down her sides. "I'd love to see what's underneath." To his surprise, Laura stepped out of their embrace, a slight smirk marking her features.

"Why don't you, then, Mr. Steele." Her words went straight to his groin and he took no time in taking her advice. He crouched before her, ready to pull the dress up, but he stopped. Instead he took her hips in his strong hands and pressed a kiss to her belly. He felt her squirm in his grasp and kissed her lower, and lower still, each kiss a little longer and wetter than the last. Her hands sought his shoulders for balance, and when he finally lifted the dress he did so only a little, just past where he wanted to kiss her most. He softly kissed her above her curls then even lower. Her legs parted slightly and she moaned something that sounded like his name as he kissed her folds. He brought his hand down to touch her and was delighted when she gasped above him. His fingers found her wet and ready for him, but he told himself again that that special moment would come later. He dropped to his knees and gently entered her with a finger, then two as she adjusted to him. His mouth sought out her most sensitive of places, and he kissed her there as his fingers gently thrust in and out of her slick body.

He felt her hands tangle in his hair and push him towards her. She wanted more contact. He obliged and flicked his tongue over the bundle of nerves. Once, twice, her hips swirled, so he curled his finger and suckled at her. Her hands stilled in his hair as her hips bucked, and he held onto her with his other arm while she came. Finally, she pushed him away as she became too sensitive to his touch. He let the dress fall down around her again and rose to stand before her. He caught her as she swayed and held her as she came down from her climax.

"So beautiful," he whispered as he held her. "I've tried to imagine what you'd sound like, and taste like. I don't have the words..."

He watched her back away and step out of her heels. She inched the dress up slowly to reveal where he had just been, and then to her stomach, her breasts and up over her head. He watched in amazement as she tossed the dress aside and stood proudly before him. Her calves were taught, no doubt from having to stand in the heels through an orgasm. Her thighs were shapely and strong. Her sex glistened and her stomach still quivered. Her breasts stood proudly before him, her nipples dark and erect. Her chest was flushed from her exertion, and her hair had dried into a sexy mess of curls. Her eyes shimmed, and Remington could see a flicker of uncertainty, but it quickly passed and was replaced by her new boldness. He knew she was looking right into his soul, could hear his every thought and sense every emotion. He could hide from her no longer.

He didn't take his eyes off her as he unsnapped his pants and pulled the zipper down. He pushed them and his underwear down and quickly stepped out of them.

***

Mr. Steele had followed her lead and quickly shed his clothes. He now stood before her, not as Mr. Steele or any number of names or aliases, but as a man. A nicely defined man, Laura added in afterthought. Her eyes roamed freely over his body, from his searching eyes to his shapely jaw, down his neck to his chest. His stomach was taught and slim, and a line of dark hair ran down the center of his stomach and disappeared in the curls below. His erection stood from his body, long and proud. His trim legs were on a skinny side, but Laura knew this about him and knew that the fine mass of muscle that covered his body made him strong, but not threateningly so. Even his toes were long and sleek.

He stood before her, waiting for her approval. She had never seem him so wanting of anything before. She took a step forward to touch his chest. Her hand lazily drifted down the line of hair that had enchanted her moments ago and took him in her hand. His erection jumped at the contact, but he stood perfectly still and let her explore him. Her other hand joined in her explorations. Soon he was on the brink of release, and she felt him gently pull away.

"Give me a minute," he told her. She watched him walk over to the bed and pull back the sheets. "Might be more comfortable over here," he said, and she was sure he was teasing her, but the world became so serious so fast. Him. Her. The Bed. Sheets. Sex.

She moved her suddenly heavy legs and climbed into bed beside him. He rolled over to his nightstand, and Laura silently chastised herself for not remembering protection before she climbed into the bed. He turned back to her and handed her the small foil packet.

"No going back now, Laura. Last chance to change your mind," he warned. She shook her head and tore the foil open.

"You might want to do this," she told him and handed him the condom. Her skills at such things were slightly rusty, and she didn't want to make a fool of herself. Thankfully, he took it without question and slipped it on with ease. She felt a twinge of jealousy at the fact that he was so practiced at it.

"Now," he told her as they kissed. "We can do this one of two ways," he tenderly kissed her brow.

She knew he'd let her make this decision, just like any others regarding sex, but she didn't want anything other than to feel his body atop hers for their first time. It seemed the way to go, so they could look at one another and be as close as possible. She rolled to her back and drew him on top of her.

"Or, we can make love this way," he groaned as he settled between her thighs. "Last chance..." he whispered as his lips met hers again. She opened her mouth under his and teased his tongue with hers. She felt him adjust himself and then he was there, ready to push into her. "Laura..." he groaned and gently rocked his body into hers.

She felt a brief flash of pain, a not so subtle reminder that she'd not taken a lover in many years. But, her flesh gave way a moment later as he thrust again. A few more strokes and he was as far as he could possibly go, and Laura's body grew soft and tense all at once. She drew her knees up around his hips and encouraged him by licking his lips. He took the hint and crushed his mouth too hers incontrast to the gentle rocking of their lower bodies.

It took a few minutes but Laura picked up his rhythm and tilted her hips just enough to give her the stimulation she needed. He held her close, perched up by his elbows, only taking a few moments at a time to gulp for air between kisses. She rocked her hips against his and groaned as his body stroked her. Her body ached, and she knew she was only moments away from release. She tore her mouth from his, wanting him to know that she was close. Before she could speak he raised himself on his arms and ground his pelvis against hers in small, sharp circles. Laura cried out in release, and her muscles contracted around him in invitation.

She came to her senses to find him still up on his arms as he looked at her. A smile plastered his face, and Laura shyly smiled back and purposely clenched her muscles around him while she lifted her legs to settle around his waist. He seemed to take the encouragement to heart and began his rhythm again, albeit less gracefully than before. He settled back on his elbows and kissed her eyes while his hips made short, shallow thrusts into her. Moments later he groaned her name and rocked quickly, almost knocking the bed off its frame. A sharp expletive she couldn't hear came from his mouth and his hips ground into her one last time. She felt him shake above her and he buried his face above her shoulder. He relaxed moments later and moved to dispose of the condom.

Laura was disappointed at the loss of contact as he slipped out of her. She snuggled to him as he turned back towards her. She closed her eyes and felt his kiss at her brow and drifted off to a restful sleep.

***

Remington woke a few hours later and noticed that Laura was now half draped over him. She must have enjoyed herself earlier to let herself be this carefree, even in sleep. He ached all over, but mostly he ached to have her again. He wanted nothing more than to spoon behind her and have her that way. He would enter her from behind, throw her leg over his hip and have free access to her sex. Or her breasts. Or both. As it was, those rules had yet to be determined, so instead he let his hands roam her body in an attempt to wake her.

She jerked and opened her eyes. The disorientation he had expected was absent, however. She stretched to kiss him and let him taste her mouth for a few moments. He pulled away, prepared to say something witty but noticed that she seemed content where she was. Her hand had found his erection again, and she ran her fingers from base to tip, then down, then back up, then down to cup him, then back up... At least he had more control this time. Mortal embarrassment seemed out of the picture, thank goodness.

"I suppose you're probably ready to try that again,"
Laura teased and she grasped him with more pressure. "Or, something else, perhaps?" She raised her eyebrow at him. Was it jest, or was it a challenge? Whatever the hell it was, Remington didn't care once she scooted down the bed and placed a kiss at his tip.

"Laura... be careful down there or you'll be waiting for quite a while, Love." The endearment rolled off his tongue with ease, and he watched Laura smile up at him. He had a fleeting thought about how much she loved challenges, and then all thought fled as he watched her take him in her mouth. Her tongue swirled around him, and she gently sucked until he slipped out of her mouth. She did this a few more times then moved between his legs. Her hands joined in the effort, one stroking in aid with her mouth, the other playing with his testicles. He tried not to squirm, but she was doing things that were just incredible.

He closed his eyes and felt her mouth move down his length, back up, then down around one side to press tiny kisses to his length, down to his testicles where she licked him, and then back up the other side of his erection. He ached to have her but didn't care how his release came. He only knew that he was so very close and would she please put him out of his misery so he can pass out now?

Her mouth moved over him again, and she teased him with her teeth and chuckled at his moan. Finally, he felt her lips close around him and he warned her that he was close, she could move away and finish him off with her hands. Or, at least that's what he thought he had said. In reality, he cried out as his body pulsed. He gently thrust into her mouth and came and came and came. Through the fog of orgasm he felt her stay with him and she kept up her ministrations until his hips fell to the bed. Sweat beaded his brow, and he felt the bed shift as Laura settled in beside him again. She swirled her fingers in the sweat that covered his stomach as he drifted off to sleep.

***

Laura watched Mr. Steele succumb to ecstasy once again. Albeit, she had nodded off first last time, but he was quick to sleep now. His body softened, and she watched his manhood, transfixed at the sight. Sure, a penis is nothing new, she told herself. But, this was his, and she was here with him now, so his was the only one that mattered. Just the thought made her wet. She squirmed her legs and thought about waking him up so he could satisfy the ache between her thighs. Instead, she let her hand guide her to quick release, the pillow muffled her groans of pleasure. Afterwards, she saw that he was still asleep, oblivious to her actions just moments before. She knew she would be ready again when he woke. Besides, he would probably sleep for quite a while given his recent illness.

Sleep wasn't going to happen for her, however, so she quietly slipped out of bed. She walked around to the nightstand where Mr. Steele had gotten the condom. She opened it to reveal one box of Trojans, Ribbed for her Pleasure, she noted, plus spermacide, and checked the expiration date. To her surprise, the date was far enough away to indication this box was very new. She pulled his t-shirt over her head and walked out to the living room. His toiletries bag was by the couch. She felt just a little guilty as she opened it. As she thought, another box of condoms was sitting in one of the side compartments. These were brand new as well, box unopened. She brought the bag into the bedroom then took another quick shower. The hot water worked wonders on her tight muscles. Afterwards, she lathered her body in lotion and climbed back into bed. She turned her back to him, and he turned to hold her in his sleep. She eventually dozed off.

She woke sometime later, her leg thrown over Mr. Steele's. His hand was massaging her clit. His teeth were biting her earlobe.

"Good afternoon, Miss Holt," he said and thrust his hips towards her.

"Yes, it is that, Mr. Steele," she gently thrust back.

"I was wondering if you'd be so kind as to allow me to slip inside of you for the next twenty minutes or so. I'll make it worth your while," his hips continued to tease her.

"You don't have to ask, you know," she answered and tightened her leg over his.

"Ah," he started to say more but stopped as he gently trust into her. A few moments later he was holding her close as he rocked his body against hers. "I-- oh, Laura," he groaned as his hand played with her breasts.

She held onto him as he moved inside her. She couldn't even see him, save for his leg. His long erection stretched her, the different angle of penetration was exciting and stimulating. She moved his hand back down between her legs and watched as his fingers danced over her. He felt where they were joined, then rubbed her clit.

"Show me," he said as his tongue darted around her ear. "How to please you..."

She placed her hand on top of his and then guided him in slow circles without direct contact to the sensitive nerves. "Like this," she rubbed around and around. "Or this," she showed him how to softly apply pressure in time with his thrusts. She then cried out as his thrusts became more powerful, his hand on her more forceful as he surged deep within her, then almost all the way out, then back in again in long strokes.

His other arm found its was under her and stroked her nipples. His teeth nibbled on her neck, and she closed her eyes. Too many sensations were flooding her, and she saw her climax approach and explode both between her legs and behind her eyes in a magnificent display of color. Even her acid trips in college had never been this incredible.

Once again, Mr. Steele had stopped to let her body recover. He really had to stop doing that. She was about to tell him to keep moving, but he pulled out of her suddenly and rolled her onto her stomach. Before she knew what was happening he told her to put a pillow under her hips and rise up on her knees. She obliged and felt his hands on her ass as he came up behind her. His erection poked at her entrance and then slid home. She rested on her elbows and lifted her ass in the air as much as she could manage. He stayed on his knees and thrust into her, long and deep at first, then shorter and faster as he began to lose control. His hands grasped her hips and pulled her towards him, over and over until finally he thrust into her and called her name, then God's, then collapsed on top of her.

He wasn't so quick to move this time, and Laura had to remind him about her need to breathe. He managed a chuckle in her ear then gently rolled away. Again he disposed of the "evidence" as Laura was beginning to think of the condoms. Evidence of their coupling. Their sex. Making love, she'd heard him say a little earlier. She noticed him at the edge of the bed while he watched her. His skin was flushed and sweaty, and her own skin was covered with perspiration and her wetness.

"Are you hungry? I'm ravished," he told her with all sincerity. "I have some cheese and salami. I can make us sandwiches. It's almost three o'clock, and we didn't each much of breakfast... although you had a snack a while ago," he reminded her.

Laura felt her face turn red. Yes, she'd swallowed every last drop of him. He didn't have to tease her about it!

"Laura," he said in that sing-song way he used when he knows he has hit a nerve with her. "It was wonderful. Perfect. You gave that to me freely," he told her and touched his lips to hers. "I can't even being to thank you for that," he said as he pulled away.

"Lunch is a start, Mr. Steele," she said and watched as he donned his robe. She quickly grabbed his t-shirt and once again found him in the kitchen, bent over while he examined his refrigerator. "Lunch is definitely a start," she told herself and joined him by the fridge.

The End