- Steele Sweet Scrap Scene
- By SJ
- (Pick up end of scene in Lauras loft):
- "Well, whatever the reason, I think the hotel is our
only starting point." She joins him at the island.
- Hes holding the dental impression. "Splendid.
Ill use my Dr. Bridges identity," he says as he whips
the name tag out of his pocket. "You know blend in,
investigate without arousing suspicion."
- "In that case, Ill need a cover too."
- "Exactly. Now
- Remington extended his arm above the louvered doors to the
dressing room, Here are a few more to try on.
- I told you NO tube tops Lauras
quickly ejected two of the garments back over the door and into
- Not even this leopard-print one? He answered,
- Why couldnt I just be a dental assistant?
- Isnt that what Abigail tells your grandmother
about you? Remington replied, gently pushing the right
button to persuade Laura to stick with his plan.
- Despite mild objection, Laura actually looked forward her
role in his plan. It gave her a chance to let that free spirit
in her, cautiously held in-check, out to play for a while. She
could always excuse that an immoderation was simply all
in the line of duty. Laura checked herself in the mirror.
She squiggled and sqooshed her breasts. They were uncooperative
in maintaining any semblance of cleavage though, and she soon
abandoned that effort by just buttoning up her top.
- Mr. Steele was waiting anxiously in a nearby chair at the
end of the row of dressing rooms. Laura smoothed her skirt and
tousled her hair before exiting the small changing room. She
poked her head out checking if any other shoppers or clerks were
in the vicinity. It appeared to be safe to come out. She swaggered
with exaggerated hip action and struck a provocative pose against
a rack of garments. In a sultry voice, she propositioned Remington,
Lookin for a good time, big fella?
- He walked toward her and slowly circled; smiling-borderline
leering, assessing, Well, you certainly look the part.
Then he came full circle to be in front of her, But if
I may make one. . . minor. . . alteration.
- He reached for the top button of her tight fitting shirt.
He worked his way down, smoothly slipping each one free. His
fingers would lightly graze her soft skin along the way, never
breaking contact. She made no attempt to stop him. This must
have been one of those immoderations she would justify
later. Even though he released the last button, his hands lingered,
slipping under the fabric, tracing her subtle curves. Lauras
involuntary breathing, perhaps heightened by his actions, further
intensified the contact.
- Doing her best to suppress the effect it was having on her,
Laura spoke with only a slight tremble, I might have to
charge you for that.
- Remington excitedly reached into the inside pocket of his
suit, Just a minute, let me grab my wallet.
- (Insert commercial here)
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