- Steele Alive and Kicking Scrap
- By SJ
- Good Lord, theres glass everywhere.
Laura surveyed the condition of her kitchen.
- Not to mention. . .that. Remington grimaced,
pointing to the slimy splotch on the wooden floor.
- Laura handed him a full roll of paper towels with some cleanser,
pleading, with a mix of damsel squeamishness and temptatious
possibilities, Would you?
- Caving to her charms, he reluctantly took the supplies, Would
you happen to have any rubber gloves?
- Laura smiled and reached under the sink. She was strangely
pleased with herself that she would manipulate him like that,
but she also felt that he should be rewarded in advance, for
his courageous act. Ever since he showed up at her door with
that loose shirt, she had fantasized running her hands up underneath;
feeling the contrasting sensations of warm skin beneath her palms
and the cool silk caressing the back of her hands. Instead of
simply handing the gloves across the counter, Laura stepped around
the corner and closed in. She offered Remington the gloves. Then,
without hesitation, her hands glided under the fabric. Pressing
flat against his stomach at first, then traveling up his chest
allowing her fingers to comb through the compliant hair. Remington
quickly chucked the paper towels and rubber gloves since there
was something so much better within his own reach. His hands
moved around to her backside then up to her waistband where he
began to extricate her shirt searching for some skin to skin
contact as well. Before he could get even one hand up her shirt,
she wiggled away. Damn.
- Once his disgusting deed was accomplished, Remington returned
to the kitchen. What little was left on the paper towel roll
was tucked under one arm. He held a very large wad of used towels
in his outstretched other hand. Laura was just about to comment
if it was necessary to use so many on such a small mess, but
thought it better to just forget the demise of that poor turtle
all together. She returned her attention to sweeping up the glass
- Remington relieved Laura of the broom and directed, Why
dont you pack a few things and come home with me and well
deal with all of this in the morning?
- I cant leave my loft like this. Laura answered,
surprised that he would even suggest it.
- . . .Or I would be happy to go browse your extensive
collection of intimate apparel and make a few selections of my
own. He eagerly offered with a naughty grin.
- Resolutely, she walked over to her small desk and flipped
open the phone book. There must be a glass company with
twenty four hour emergency service.
- Thats what I love about you, Laura. You are always
so, so damned practical.
- See, heres one. Pane in the Glass. . .
She pointed to the ad in the yellow pages and annunciated proving
her point, Prompt. Twenty-four hour emergency service.
- Remington opened his mouth to protest but Laura was already
dialing. You dont have to stay, Mr. Steele.
- Im not leaving you alone with a stranger this
time of night. Nor do I feel at ease knowing an even stranger
Vinnie could drop back in on you at any moment.
- Laura was just about to go into her I-can-take-care-of-myself
speech when her call was answered. She left a message with the
service, detailing the time of her call and address.
- Laura sat on the sofa. Remington was in the red chair across
from her separated by a small coffee table. After numerous hands
of gin, with Laura owing Remington $27.45, he checked his watch
and commented while dealing the cards, It seems like this
glass company doesnt quite understand the meaning of the
- Laura yawned and leaned back, I just wish hed
get here. I want to go to bed, Mr. Steele.
I like the sound of that. Remington
tossed his cards on the table and joined Laura on the sofa. He
snuck closer to her and maneuvered his arm around her. We
should have thought of this hours ago.
- He leaned into her but just before their lips met, Laura
pulled back and asserted, Why? You know we would have just
- Thats what I mean. All we had to do is start.
. . Remington pressed his moist lips to her neck, parting
his lips slightly allowing the tip of his tongue to trail up
to her ear, something . . And that Pane in the Ass person
would be pounding on your door.
- Laura laughed, tickled by his perverse reasoning, not to
mention the placement of his tongue. Youre probably
- Ill prove it to you. Cmon. He led
her up to her bed. One hand on the back of her neck, veiled in
her soft hair, the other wrapped around her mid section, Remington
reclined on the bed and pulled Laura on top of him. Pulled
may be an overstatement since there was zero resistance from
Laura. They kissed deeply, allowing passions to escalate under
the guise of testing Mr. Steeles theory. Despite their
utmost effort, no one came to the door.
- I dont think this is working, Mr. Steele,
Laura breathe heavily.
- Remington guided Lauras hips purposefully against his
groin, Oh I assure you, Laura, everything is working.
- Not that, Laura scolded. Im
fully aware thats in working order.
- Rather noticeable, eh? Remington proudly acknowledged.
- Modesty never was one of your better qualities, Mr.
Steele. Laura chided, Too bad your own ego isnt
the only thing youll be stroking tonight.
- And cooperation was never one of your better qualities,
- So, do you think the glass guy will ever show?
- Im not sure we should abandon our current course
of action. We havent really tested its limits.
He fingered the top button of her shirt. I guarantee. .
. (the first button slipped through the hole) that
once we approach a higher. . . (another button opened)
level of intimacy. . .(he undid the third and fourth
button)it will be cruelly. . .(Remington pulled her
shirt free and dispensed with the remaining buttons) and
- Just how far do these limits go? Laura warily
asked, but otherwise was not stopping him.
- Remington lightly ran his hands across her back, then up
and down her sides with his thumbs circling her satin and lace
covered breasts. Soon all his attention was centered on her taut
nipples. His fingers slipped beneath the elastic and caressed
them. Laura, desperate to reciprocate, impatiently pushed his
loose shirt up to once again touch his chest. Just as Remington
unhooked her bra and was about to see Laura for the first time,
there was a knock at the door.
- Oh God. Laura gasped. She jumped up and hastily
hooked her bra and buttoned up her shirt. Good thing he
showed up. A few more minutes and we wouldnt have answered
the door at all.
- Yeah, good thing. Remington sarcastically agreed.
- Laura missed two buttons and was noticeably askew when she
opened the door. Remington smoothed his shirt down and even though
the shirttail partially hid his erection, he made it a point
to stand behind Laura at all times.
- Laura Holt? The serviceman read from his work
order. He then noticed her disheveled appearance; her shirt,
the flushed looked, and tousled hair. He was momentarily distracted.
Ah. . .I understand you ahh. . . have a glass emergency.
- Right this way. Laura directed him to the kitchen.
While the repairman examined the damage. Remington reached around
her to try to fix the button problem. She slapped his hand away,
thinking he was trying something, but soon became aware of her
state of undress. She quickly turned out of the glaziers
view to face Remington and set her buttons straight. Remington
assisted with the top buttons while Laura worked up from the
bottom. After taking a few measurements, the repairman turned
back to catch a glimpse of what looked like: Remington in Lauras
shirt and her hands fondling his privates. The glazier didnt
want to know what they were doing that caused the kitchen window
to break nor why they had all those animals on the counter. These
nighttime service calls were always such an adventure; a bar
fight here, a lovers quarrel there. Some day he was going
to write a book.
- Listen folks, Ill just get a few pieces of plywood
and secure this and Ill be out of your hair in a jiffy.
- (Fade to Black)
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