Steele Conquers All
by
Ilsa Lund

Part Five

Summary, disclaimer, rating in part one

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A lazy, sunny Saturday morning. Steele began the day as he began every day, studying his wife as she slept. Laura Steele - née Holt - lay sprawled on her stomach, breathing steadily in slumber, hair spilling over a pillow, fresh-faced – the very epitome of ingénue.

As a single man he'd rarely risen early, viewing it an anathema to his system. If it had been his choice, they'd have given an eighties spin to John and Yoko's bed-in, conducting all the office affairs from a mattress. But nowadays he was invariably awake before her, specifically to delight in this simple delectation. It still gave him a thrill opening his eyes to Laura lying next to him.

She stirred, stretched and yawned. “Good morning.”

Steele reached for her hand. “Good morning.”

“I am so hungry.”

He grinned. “I'm not surprised. You hardly ate last night and we were very energetic.”

“Were we? I thought we were the same as usual.”

“Perhaps you were the same as usual Mrs Steele - such a caviller attitude towards pleasing your husband. I on the other hand, take immense pride in my performance. If you don't wake the dead with orgasmic sighs and moans, that's my cue to redouble my efforts, put my back into it, as it were.”

She threatened him with a pillow and he laughed. Pecking her cheek, Steele pulled on his pyjama bottoms and padded into the kitchen humming contentedly to himself. A beautiful day in Los Angeles and Laura in his – their bed. Could life get any better than this?

Twenty minutes later he returned tray in hand to find her wrapped in a robe. The distinctive cover easily gave away what had her so engrossed. Three cheers for Charlotte Knight and her zip-less encounters.

“Really Laura, why buy the cow when I give you the milk every day and night for free?”

His booming voice startled her. She jumped, dropped the book then cursed. Found out yet again. Damn him. “I don't – why didn't you – just some harmless research. For Mildred. That's all.”

“Nothing like harmless research on the weekend, eh? And I'll wager that's nothing like harmless research.” Carefully placing the tray on the bed, he climbed back in.

“You're really enjoying this aren't you?” she groaned burying her face in
her hands.

“There's something so winsome, so fetching about your penchant for hot, steamy, erotic literature. Believe me Laura, I'm not complaining. How can I when I benefit so directly, so thoroughly, so unequivocally from your, ah, reading matter? Do carry on Mrs Steele. Please.”

She playfully hit him and he chuckled before asking, “What do you fancy doing today?”

Relieved to be on firmer ground, Laura answered as she munched toast. “We need groceries Mr Steele and I've got errands to run.”

“I'll come with you.”

“Okay.”

“Food shopping. That's such a married thing to do isn't it? We can argue over which cereals to buy. All these years here and I still marvel at the supermarkets. So much variety, such vast proportions, everything is so big and the –”

“You sound like a tourist.”

“A permanent one, at any rate.” He bent and kissed her. “By the way, I think I've found the solution to our Hudson problem.”

“Oh?”

“Monroe.”

“Oh.” She looked him directly in the eye. “Is that where you were last night?”

“Yes.”

Laura shrugged. “Okay.”

“You're not angry?” He heaved a sigh of relief.

“Angry? No. How can I be when I'm going out tonight?”

“What?”

“You heard me.” She picked up another piece of toast.

This was unwelcome news to Steele. “Have you forgotten that we're entertaining tonight?”

“We're not entertaining tonight my love. Not anymore. You're entertaining tonight.” Her eyes sparkled. “After you left, I decided two can play that game.”

“What game?”

“That 'I'm going out, don't wait up' game.”

He recognised the finality in her tone and knew there was no point trying to change her mind. “Where are you going? And who are you going with?”

“Paradiso. That new bar Downtown. And who do you think I'm going with?”

He groaned.

“But that means I'll be home alone with your –”

She smiled and patted his leg. “Be nice to our guest won't you?”

“Must I?”

“Yes.”

“Pity. Takes all the fun out of it.”

Laura reached for more toast. “Don't worry Mr Steele. When I get home, we'll have some fun of our own. Just you and me. And some candles. And some oil. And some champagne.”

“I'm worried about us.”

She turned sharply to him. “Why?”

“Utopia Mrs Steele. Is matrimony supposed to resemble Utopia quite so closely as this? Do you realise that last Saturday we were preparing to be married for the third time?”

She hugged her knees and sighed. “I thought marriage would iron everything out. The ultimate sign of commitment. In some ways, it's made me less sure. I don't know why but I'm worried about … years ago I told you that I was frightened … that I was frightened of losing myself in you. This is all so much. So much more than I ever imagined, than I ever could imagine. I'm just trying to feel my way around. It's a lot to take in. ”

Steele leant over to take a bite of her toast. “I know. I can feel it. It appears we still have a long way to go.”

“But I'm not the only one. You're scared too.”

“For you. I'm scared for you. But your fear stems from that distant past.
Stop looking to it Mrs Steele. I'm your past now. Your past, present and future.”

“I know you are.” She stroked his cheek. “Give me a little more time and I'll adjust to this alright? Maybe in a couple of weeks I'll be able to use my left arm and fully embrace marriage the way you've done. Just be patient with me. It isn't easy being happy.”

They gazed at each other and suddenly the air cleared a little. Steele lifted the tray, depositing it on the floor. Then he reached for his wife and pulled her on top of him.

Between slow, drugging kisses he murmured in her ear, “I'll make us more breakfast.”

“More?”

“Hmm, yes. Hot eggs, hot toast, and hot coffee. For some unfathomable reason, our current breakfast is going to grow very, very, very cold.”

Her hands wandered teasingly across his torso. “I didn't know you had ESP Mr Steele.”

“Call it a hunch.”

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“Mmm … mmm… you're very good at this you know.”

“Comes naturally with the right person.”

“Ooooh … just there ... slower … mmm.”

“Slower Laura? Normally you beg me to up the pace. Fervently I might add.”

“I know. But right now, slow is good … mmmm … slow is very good. Just a little harder please.”

“How hard do you want it?”

“How hard can you make it?”

“This okay Mrs Steele?”

“Better than okay,” she breathed ecstatically perching on her elbows to watch him.

“What on earth possessed you to break-in a new pair of shoes?”

“If I'd known you were going to insist on buying yet more videos, I wouldn't have worn them. This feels worse than my stint as a model. Ooh, my feet.”

“And such pretty feet too.”

Laura sat up and placed her hands over his. “Flattery will get you nowhere today. Two hours walking around one store!”

“Ah but what a splendid retail experience, eh? Film noir, westerns, musicals, thrillers, espionage … ” Steele continued rubbing her feet as he gloried in the magic of Hollywood.

“I'm never going shopping with you again.”

Her lament amused him. “Does that mean you're staying home tonight?”

“Nice try Mr Steele.” She tugged her foot away and got off the bed. “I'm going to shower and change.”

“Wonderful. I'll just be a minute.”

“A minute for what?”

He looked at her as if she'd suddenly taken leave of her senses. “To join you in the shower of course.”

“No. I see what you're up to now and these delaying tactics of yours won't wash. You're not getting in that shower with me.” Laura unbuttoned her shirt and unzipped her slacks.

“Scrub your back?”

“No.”

“Wash your hair?”

“No.”

“Soap your br –”

“God no!” she cried stepping towards the bathroom without a backward glance.

Steele lay on the bed listening to the water running. There was no place he'd rather be than with Laura at that very moment. He visualised her naked slender form: in his mind she was bending down, lathering her legs, soapsuds on her breasts, her nipples and – he could feel the hot fire starting down below.

When she finally emerged, he walked over and tightly embraced her.

Laura's laughter filled the air. “I'm wet!”

“Out of the mouth of babes, or babe in this instance, irrefutable proof of my, ah, strapping virility.”

“From the shower.”

“What would you say if I said I didn't believe you?”

“I'd say you're incorrigible.”

He nuzzled her throat. “You know me Laura. I can't resist you when you're wet. Shower or otherwise.”

“From any other man that would be disgusting. But from you –”

“Yes?”

“It's a huge turn on.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

Steele held her gaze and whispered, “So act on it.”

“Love to.”

“Well then?”

“But I can't. I haven't got time, we haven't got time.”

She extricated herself. Steele sighed: ardour would have to be put on hold, dampened for a few hours. He sat on the bed watching as she went through her routine, which he now knew inside out.

“Where did you say you were going again?”

“Paradiso. I hear it's a nice friendly bar.”

His ears perked up. “Friendly? How friendly?”

Laura opened a closet door, singing to herself. What to wear tonight?

“Sorry?”

“How friendly?”

“Friendly Mr Steele. Neighbourly, intimate, sociable.”

Finally she selected a back-less red dress with a plunging neckline. It was one of her favourites, complimenting her figure like no other she owned.

Steele shot off the bed. “Is that what you're wearing tonight?” he queried, pointing.

“I never get a chance to wear it for very long.” She grinned deviously. “You love this dress.”

“Yes I do. When you wear it for me, that is. Easy access to innumerable delights. So thoughtful of the designer.”

“I'm sure Jitrois made it with you in mind Mr Steele.”

He dug his hands deeply into his pockets. “Are you positive it's a wise choice? The dress, I mean.”

“I'm sorry?” she poked around in a jewellery box for earrings.

“Laura, it turns me into a howling hound. And I'm a happily married man.”

Incomprehension made her brow furrow. “So?”

“So?” he exclaimed in shock. “Believe me Laura, we men are base animals. Completely devoid of morality and integrity.”

“What's your point Mr Steele?”

“Flesh Laura. One whiff of it and we circle our helpless victim ready to move in for the kill. You wear that and you'll need a stick to beat off hoards of hungry, miserable, snarling creatures.”

He strode over and pulled out an alternative. “What about this instead?”

“Mr Steele, that's a business suit I wear at the office.”

“And I've always found you incredibly sexy in it.”

“Are you kidding?”

“I'm completely serious. Every time I see you in it, the workmanship of the tailoring, the hardy seams, the fine stitching – it drives me wild with desire. Throw this on with those Brogues we bought in Scotland to explore the Highlands and you'll be the star attraction.”

The buzzer sounded just as Laura was ready to chide her husband. She snatched her suit from him, hung it back and slid on her red number.

“Can you get that please Mr Steele? I'll be five minutes.”

He retreated barking and yelping at her. She had to laugh but accompanied it with a shooing motion urging his departure to the living room.

Running a hand through his hair, Steele composed himself and opened the door to a tall, attractive brunette applying another coat of scorching red lipstick.

“Miss Wolfe. What an honour to see you again. So soon after our wedding last Saturday too.”

“It's Mrs Elliott now. I told you four times last week.”

“Mrs Wolfe. What an honour to see you again. So soon after our wed –”

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Mrs Wolfe is close enough. She ready?”

“Virtually. Do come in.”

“Thanks. So. How are you?”

“Fine. How are you?”

“I'm good.”

“I thought you were going back to Chicago?”

“My husband left the day after the wedding. I stayed to catch up with Laura.”

Steele dug his hands in his pockets. “Ah … splendid.”

Their eyes wandered around the room.

Bernice broke the silence. “Okay we've dispensed with the pleasantries. Let's let rip at each other. I'll start. I've got good news for you.”

“You're emigrating to Moscow? Keep in touch.”

She pursed her lips then continued. “Paul - that's my husband - Paul's been promoted and the job stipulates relocation to Los Angeles. Permanently. Guess who's back for good?”

“Bobby Ewing in 'Dallas' last I heard.”

“Guess again.”

“Isn't it enough that we're forced to share the same planet Mrs Wolfe? You have to move back to Los Angeles too?”

“I was here first.”

“You left, I stayed. Finders keepers.”

“I've always been a sucker for your slimy charm.”

“And I've always been enamoured with your sharp tongue. Ever considered cutting stones with it?”

“Laura!” she shouted. “Come and rescue me.”

“I'm here, I'm here! Hello Bernice,” she beamed struggling with her earring. “Okay Mr Steele, have fun tonight and remember, be nice to our guest.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately.

Mrs Elliott made a gagging sound.

Steele slowly lifted his head casting a veiled glance at the former Miss Fox. He returned his attention to his wife squeezing her tightly. “Have a good time Mrs Steele.”

Laura smiled tenderly at her husband. “Thanks. We will. You too.”

“Y'know, on reflection, I'm very pleased Mrs Wolfe is accompanying you. She can keep the hounds at bay, tell them to seek their sordid pleasures elsewhere, that kind of thing. Rejecting sexual overtures will be a new experience for her, eh Mrs Wolfe?”

Bernice aimed a dirty look square in his direction.

“Mrs Wolfe?” Laura inquired, bewildered.

“That's what he calls me,” Bernice clarified with a roll of her eyes. Turning to Steele she sweetly announced, “I'll be seeing you very soon and very often. Want some mud to swallow that with?”

TO PART SIX
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