IN A ROUND ABOUT WAY
by Rhonda WilsonAuthor's warning: Adult content.
This is a short story I worked on when I got stuck on the longer one I am working on. I find it helps to work on something else sometimes, but I don’t really want to leave The Avengers so this is what I came up with. I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know one way or the other.His Apartment
Steed closed the door as Mrs. Peel made her way down the stairs to take up her accustomed position on the sofa. It had been a quiet ride back from Lord Perry’s party and the atmosphere was decidedly chilly. In fact, he was just a little surprised that she hadn’t asked to be dropped at her own flat despite the fact that they’d left her car at his apartment so they could attend the party together.
As he stepped up to the table behind the sofa he couldn’t help admiring her long, slender legs on display before him. She was exceptionally beautiful this evening. The emerald green dress she’d chosen to ware was cut high on the thigh. It successfully accentuated her trim figure and brought out the red in her silky auburn hair. At the party her rich, brown eyes seemed to catch every light in the room casting a spell over any male lucky enough to gaze into their depths. As much as he tried to deny it, he knew he had fallen under their spell a long time ago.
Since they’d started working together he had tried very hard to fight the pull she had on him. It was embarrassing at times, to find himself thinking of her at the oddest moments, especially while kissing another woman. That was not only embarrassing, but potentially damaging to his reputation. She liked him. He knew that. He couldn’t imagine her spending so much time with someone if she didn’t. Friends, that’s what they were. Good friends, but she had always shrugged off any attempt he made at furthering their relationship. Sometimes he thought she might be softening toward him, changing her mind. He could swear there were times when the looks she gave him were pure seduction, but then the barricades slammed down and he was back to square one.
“Brandy, Mrs. Peel?” he asked. May as well test the waters.
“Large.”
Yep, he confirmed, the waters were still very choppy. The only question was would he need water wings or the full Naval rescue team? And he still hadn’t figured out what he’d done. He watched as she leaned over the front edge of the sofa to retrieve something out of the purse she’d placed on the floor. The movement brought the hem of her dress up slightly exposing the soft, smooth skin at the back of her thigh and he felt his body react. Stepping closer to the table, that came up just passed his groin, he took a long time pouring the drinks while trying to think of other things. After examining both glasses for the tiniest flaws, gently passing them back and forth in the palms of his hands to warm the liquid and mentally considering the stealth capabilities of row boats, he felt safe enough to step around to her side.
“Here you are,” he said, handing her one of the glasses.
She took it and placed a half dozen pieces of small paper in its place. He frowned, momentarily confused. Examining the papers didn’t clear up the situation any. Each one contained a different name and number.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Phone numbers. I collected them for you.”
Six months of working closely together and being a naturally astute student of the human mind, had given him an almost unique ability to know absolutely nothing about what she was thinking sometimes. This was definitely one of those times. Emma Peel was brilliant. A genius by recorded standards, knowledgeable and indeed, proficient on most subjects from wine to physics and she had a sometimes acerbic sense of humor that matched his own. She had a classic beauty that he found alluring and sexy to the point of lightheadedness, but at the same time she could be stubborn, hard-headed, frustrating in the extreme and at those moments he found that she . . . still boiled the very blood in his veins! Understanding how she continually did this, however, had so far escaped him.
“I beg your pardon,” he said.
“Since you seemed unable to make up your mind at the party, I thought I’d help you out and collect them for you. That way you can take your time and decide in more, shall we say, comfortable surroundings.”
She brought her glass to the full, luscious lips that to him seemed a bit tight at the moment. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond to that.
“Thank you,” he told her a little dumbfounded, “but I really prefer antique firearms.”
She swallowed, reached out and plucked the stack back from his hand.
“Well it looked to me as though some of these were packing quite a bit of fire power,” she told him. Leafing through she selected one. “Like Angela here. She was the blond you kept eying from the buffet table. I wouldn’t recommend her though. She may be easy on your eyes, but I happen to know that she can’t stand horses and she wouldn’t know a good wine from a bad cough syrup.”
After a calming sip of brandy she chose another name seemingly at random. “Delores on the other hand is athletic, sits a good horse and has been known to appreciate a fine wine, but she does tend to broadcast her more intimate relationships among her social set.” She shook her head slightly, the subdued lighting of his apartment reflecting off the fine, auburn strands. “Not very discrete and we know how you feel about that.” She looked at him over the rim of her glass. “Now Tina I think is probably going to be your best bet. She’s thirty one, slender, blond, blue eyed, has won several point-to-point events and while I can’t personally attest to her culinary proclivities, she has been seen dining at some of London’s leading restaurants therefore we can assume she at least has a working knowledge of fine dining.”
Steed’s mind raced as he listened to her pour out more and more personal details concerning the various women that attended the party. He was experienced enough and knew her well enough, or so he believed, to know that what she was saying was less important than what she wasn’t. Being blindsided was a condition that he rarely found himself in, at least where women were involved, but that was before he met Emma Peel. Now he seemed to land in that particular state quite often. She was truly something different. If he didn’t know better he’d swear she was jealous, but that didn’t even bare consideration. He took a big swallow of his brandy.
“Mrs. Peel, what, may I ask, has prompted this sudden interest in my . . .”
“Extra curricular activities?” she offered.
“I was going to say, life, but if you prefer your version, I won’t argue.”
“I don’t know why you should be surprised,” she told him. “I’m just doing what I always do, fulfilling my position in this partnership, giving you as many details as I can so that you can make an informed decision. After all, there’s nothing worse than waking up first thing in the morning to realize you’ve made a terrible mistake.”
“I rarely have that problem,” he grinned, “I sleep late.”
Her dark eyes locked on him and he could swear he saw the face of midnight, dark, stormy, no visible stars, no visible light. He’d gone for humor. It wasn’t first thing in the morning, but it was definitely a terrible mistake. He rubbed at the dull ache that was starting to form just behind his eyes and tried to keep the anger he was beginning to feel from rising to the surface. He did not want to be having this conversation. A quiet night alone with Mrs. Peel had occupied his every free moment of thought at the party and now he wished he’d found a way to skip the gathering altogether. Undeterred, she selected another name from the stack.
“Moving on,” she continued, “Ashley is a well rounded individual, no pun intended, with a great personality. She’s outgoing, . . .”
“I don’t think this serves any purpose.”
“On the contrary,” she countered,” I think it serves just the right purpose. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, Ashley. You remember her. She was the one standing by the large potted plant that couldn’t take her eyes off you all night. She might be a little...”
“Enough.” He grabbed the stack from her hand, wadded them and threw them in the waste bin. He didn’t know why she insisted on continuing this line. It wasn’t like her to keep pushing. It was almost as if she were trying to make him angry. “I give up, Mrs. Peel. Obviously you’re upset about something, but it’s been a long night and I’m afraid my mind-reading skills have failed. Why don’t you make this easy on both of us and simply tell me what it is?”
Mrs. Peel sipped at her brandy before giving her answer. “Not much fun is it?”
“I think I can honestly say I’ve had better times.”
She stood and began pacing in front of the sofa. “Perhaps I’ve been going about this from the wrong direction. To match you I guess I’d have to gather the eligible prospects in one room, let them get a good look at the merchandise before making my pitch. You know, good qualities verses bad. Of course I’d go lightly on the latter.”
The ache in his head had become full-blown and while rudeness was something he tried to avoid he was sincerely considering it. But before he could voice an objection she, once again caught him off guard.
“Steed, why did you ask me to go to that party with you?”
His head was spinning. What on earth was she going for?
“You were invited to the party,” he stated.
“True.”
Okay, no help there, he thought. “I was invited to the party.”
“True again.”
He couldn’t think of anything else that he could say. She was still pinning him with her gaze. Obviously she was expecting more, but with his thoughts exhausted, he simply shrugged.
“So the only reason you asked me to the party was because I had an invitation and you had one too? Thought we’d save a little petrol, did you? Or am I your safety net?”
“What are you talking about?” How could she accuse him of something as crude as saving petrol? Hadn’t they attended multiple functions together? It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. What did she expect him to say? That she was his first and only choice? That when he went anywhere with her he felt as though he were walking on air? He couldn’t admit to that and she wouldn’t want to hear it.
“You’re familiar with the safety net or back-up plan,” she said. “In case some woman you’re not really interested in gets too close, you suddenly remember that you’re with someone else there-by freeing you from unwanted expectations.”
“I find that vaguely insulting, Mrs. Peel.” If she wanted an argument then she certainly pushed the right buttons. “In fact, forget the vaguely, I find it intensely insulting.”
“Really?” she countered. “And what do you call what you did tonight? Steed, when we attend a function together while we’re working I understand the game. Divide and conquer, but you have to let me know when we’re playing. Is that what it was? Were we involved in something I know nothing about?”
“Of course not,” he told her. “I wouldn’t send you into a situation without telling you. At least, not a second time.” His mind went back in time. He had made a horrible mistake once that had almost cost him his life at her hand. She’d been angrier than he had ever seen her, that is, up until now. But at least then he had come to understand. Now he still had no clue. She said it was something he’d done at the party. He cast his mind back.
There was nothing he could think of that was out of the ordinary. It turned out that he had known more of the guests than she did, which was unusual, but he’d introduced her. There didn’t seem to be anything there. Yes, he had flirted with several women, but that was something he did without thinking. She’d never objected before. After all, she did her share of flirting. For instance, there was... no, she didn’t really flirt with him, but then there was Lord... Again he ran through his memory of the party guests and to his astonishment, he realized there wasn’t one single instance that he could point to. She hadn’t flirted with anyone. But then she never needed to. Men flocked to her. And then it hit him like a bullet from an assassin’s gun.
Except for polite conversation and a single dance with the host, she hadn’t really associated with anyone. He could recall, in the back of his mind, hearing her turn down every other request to dance and the only time she had taken the floor was with him. That wasn’t like her. Not like her at all. Something had happened. Something important and he had missed it, but before he could explore that thought she continued.
“Then I have to assume that your behavior was intentional.”
Her voice dipped at that point losing some of the fire. Although he hadn’t heard it often, he recognized the tone. She was hurt. It was his fault. He had caused the pain he read on her face. The one person in his life he had vowed to never injure and yet, there it was. And he still didn’t know how. Frantic he fought for something to say, something that would erase that look from her eyes.
“Mrs. Peel, you’re going to have to help me. Tell me what I’ve done.” He watched her watching him, scanning his face, his eyes for what he wasn’t sure. Right now he wasn’t sure about anything.
“You really don’t know, do you?”
“I’m sorry,” he said and saw the pain deepen. As he watched he saw the pain turn to resolve and the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that their relationship, however restricted it was, had just taken a step backward. The face, that beautiful, warm face, of the Mrs. Peel he had come to know was suddenly replaced by the face of the Mrs. Peel he had first met on that fateful day. All the trust and friendship he had worked so hard to achieve disappeared in the blink of an eye.
“Every time you introduced me to a male this evening it was as if you were listing my vital statistics, everything from being the head of Knight Industries to my interests in art and physics to chemistry and sports cars. I felt as if I were up for auction or something. I just knew that at any moment you were going to ask me to show them my teeth.”
“Oh come on, Mrs. Peel,” he countered. “Don’t you think you’re exaggerating somewhat?”
She stared at him until he dropped his eyes. “No, Steed, I don’t.” She set her glass on the coffee table, picked up her purse and headed for the door.
“Mrs. Peel?” Steed tried. He couldn’t believe she was going to leave. He wanted her to stay. She stopped at the foot of the stairs.
Quietly and without turning to look at him, “I don’t know which is worse,” she said, “the way you behaved at the party or the idea that you’re oblivious to the consequences and how it would make me feel. I would have never thought you that callous. I hope you enjoy your female rodeo. Goodnight, Steed.” With that she walked up the stairs and gently closed the door behind her.
Emma drove slowly through the quiet streets to her flat. As many times as she’d made the trip without even thinking, suddenly everything seemed slightly out of kilter, confusing, out of focus. She had lost her certainty. Determined not to let her tears fall in his presence, they now ran freely down her sculpted cheeks. She wanted to be angry, to punctuate her point with a good slam of the door, but the pain of a frozen heart consumed the anger like a black hole. That realization should have served to fuel the anger. After all, they were friends, nothing more. So why should her heart play any role at all? It was simply that she thought she knew him, thought she understood, trusted him. Trust was a rare commodity with her. A good dose of skepticism had served her well in her business and personal life. She had been leery when they first started working together. Seeing how easily he switched between roles, how he seemed to be able to convince anyone of just about anything he chose made her wonder what role he was playing with her. As time went on she thought she’d come to recognize the real Steed, but the man she saw at the party and at his apartment was a stranger. The knowledge of what was lost brought a palpable pain.
Steed felt the anger rise again as he poured himself another brandy. How could she think... He hadn’t acted... He wouldn’t have... He sank down on the sofa where she had been sitting. He could still feel the warmth from her body. The drink went untouched as he slid the glass on the table next to her empty one and rested his head against the back of the sofa. He knew he wasn’t angry with her, but with himself. That sinking feeling in his stomach increased and told him that she was right. He had done everything she accused him of. The only consolation he had was that it hadn’t been a conscious thing. It was just something he couldn’t seem to stop himself from doing. Whenever he saw a man approach her at the party he heard the words coming out of his mouth. She couldn’t help but be embarrassed by his actions and God knows what the men thought about him doing it and about her seemingly allowing it. She was right about the women as well. He had gone overboard, been unusually obvious, knowing full well that everyone knew he was Mrs. Peel’s escort. Even if they were just friends it was still an egregiously disreputable thing to do. He’d ignored her, taking interest only when she was approached.
His reasons, however, were not what she thought. But to try and explain would mean risking everything and he wasn’t sure he was prepared to do that. On the other hand, if he gave no explanation, gave her some time to cool off, would she come back? Was her goodnight really goodbye? The pain that thought brought to his heart was worse than anything he could imagine. Panic drove him to take the stairs two at a time.
The lateness of the hour meant little traffic as he pointed the Bentley in the right direction. Fear of loosing her, of never seeing her again threatened to overwhelm him as he drove. Surely she wouldn’t break up such a perfect partnership over something this minor, he told himself. Stop it, he heard his own reply. Stop trying to trivialize the issue. It was a big deal. He had to make a conscious decision to slow his speed. He had to make things right, but the closer he got to Mrs. Peel’s apartment the more his resolve began to fail. By the time he was standing outside her door he’d nearly lost it all. I can’t do this, he thought. If I tell her the truth I might lose her! If you don’t you will, he answered himself. Which is worse, telling her the truth or continuing to let her believe a lie? He pushed the doorbell before he could change his mind and only hoped she’d answer.
Her ApartmentBy the time she parked her car and made it to her apartment the tears had dried. Despite the spring night, or early morning by this time, she felt a chill and lit the fire in the round fireplace that occupied a large area of her living room before changing out of her party dress. Brandy didn’t sound good so she made a pot of tea and settled on the sofa. She didn’t know how long she sat staring into the flames before she heard the doorbell. It wasn’t difficult to guess who it was, but she didn’t care. There was nothing left to say and if there was she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it. If she was wrong and it wasn’t him, she didn’t care about that either. She had to try and figure out what she was going to do now. She didn’t know if she could continue working with Steed. Of course, she thought, she could separate the work from everything else. After all, there was no requirement to socialize outside the job, but she wondered if she would have the same degree of faith in him as before. If he could betray her in something as simple as a party, what would he do when the stakes were higher? The bell rang again and she heard his muffled voice.
“Mrs. Peel, I need to talk to you. Please open the door.”She gave no reply. He began knocking.
“Mrs. Peel, I know you’re home and I’m not leaving until I talk to you.”
There was a pause.
“I’d rather not have to pick the lock, but if you force me to I will.”
She knew it was no idle threat. She crossed to the door and opened it before she started getting calls from the neighbors. He stood there with an odd expression on his face. His hair was mussed and for what Emma thought was the first time, he was without his bowler and umbrella. She surmised that he must have left his place in an awful hurry. The open air Bentley would account for the unkempt hair. Or maybe he was simply playing for sympathy. She resisted the urge to reach out and run her fingers through the thick, dark hair to straighten it.
“Go home, Steed,” she told him.
“Please, Mrs. Peel, can’t I come in?”
“Do I really have a choice?” she sighed.
“Of course you do.”
She was glad he said that. If he’d said anything else she thought she’d probably wind up slamming the door in his face. Oh well, she reasoned, it would probably be quicker to just here him out. She stood aside so he could enter.
Steed felt the chill in her apartment as well, but whether it was due to the temperature or the occupant, he wasn’t sure. He stood in front of the sofa, eased his back toward the fire. The heat felt good, relaxing. He noticed the tea tray on the coffee table.
“Tea smells good,” he said venturing a slight smile.
She said nothing, but disappeared into the kitchen. This is going to be harder than I thought, he told himself. It didn’t help much that she was dressed in a white, silk negligee covered with a dark, blue, silk dressing gown that was tied, but still open in the front. The negligee was cut low in the front and he could plainly see the beginning swell of her breasts. She returned with a cup and saucer and poured him some tea. Out of habit she added the right amount of milk and sugar before handing it to him. He knew he was stalling as he sipped the tea. She just sat on the sofa and looked at him expectantly. He didn’t have the foggiest notion how to begin. For most of his life he’d cultivated a way of speaking without really saying anything, but that ability seemed to escape him at the moment. Besides, she’d recognize it for what it was and probably throw him out. He placed his cup on the table, moved toward the sofa, but changed his mind. Under the circumstances that would be too intimate. Instead he went to the window, pulled back the curtain and stared out at the street below. If he didn’t look at her perhaps it would be easier.
“Steed, if you have something to say, just say it. It’s very late and I’m tired.”
“I’m in love with you.” He didn’t wait for her response, didn’t want to hear her laughter. Even if she didn’t laugh, he didn’t want to hear her polite but unyielding refusal. Besides, that wasn’t what he was here for. He was here to explain his behavior at the party and try to salvage their working relationship. “When I finally admitted that to myself it scared the hell out of me. You were right about tonight. I was checking out the other women, but you were wrong about my motive, in a way. I kept searching, trying to stir up some of the old feelings, desires that until now always came so easily when around beautiful women.”
“The problem is when I looked at you, so lovely, that dress set off your auburn hair, your dark, mysterious eyes sparkled from every light in the room, and your alluring smile could light the world of anyone who saw you, I couldn’t do it. Only you cause my breath to catch in my throat. Only you boil the blood in my veins. Only you make my heart beat so fast I’m afraid everyone will see it pounding in my chest or hear it and that’s not to mention other, less gentlemanly, bodily reactions. There was a reason I stood behind that buffet table most of the night. No one in that room even came close to comparing to you, Mrs. Peel. All I could think of was once the party ended I’d be able to spend some time alone with you.”
He turned away from the window and ventured a look in her direction. He saw the question in her eyes and held his hand up to still her voicing it.
“So why did I try to play matchmaker with you and the various men who approached? You have to understand that I’ve never... felt like this before. I guess I don’t handle it very well. Tonight was certainly confirmation of that. Oh, there have been women that I’ve grown found of and even a few that I thought maybe I should try a longer relationship with, but then I’d meet someone else and... well, you know the story.”
He noted the smirk on her face and the slight roll of her eyes, but continued. “So when I started having feelings for you I thought the same thing would happen. It was just a matter of time. I even tried to convince myself that it was only psychological. A case of wanting something I knew I couldn’t have. Then you kissed me. On the ride from Brandon Story’s Christmas party, do you remember?”
She nodded.
“I’ll never forget that,” he said. “The mistletoe was to be just a joke. I never expected you to act upon it. I figured you’d laugh it off as you had so many other, obvious ploys. But you didn’t and when your lips touched mine... there’s no other way to describe it except to say that it felt as though my entire body were engulfed in flame. I was glad that the weather was cold or you might have noticed that I broke out in a sweat. That’s not a very attractive thing to admit to, I know, but it is the truth. It’s also the truth that that was the happiest day of my life. I dared to hope it meant you might return some of the deeply buried feelings I had for you, but I soon found out that was not to be. Once again you backed away from my clumsy attempts to further our relationship.”
She started to say something, but he cut her off again. He had to keep going or he knew he’d never get it all out.
“Oh, I don’t blame you. You’re a beautiful woman. A young, beautiful woman who could have any number of young men falling at your feet and I’m... well, I’m old enough to be... For the sake of my pride, let’s just say I’m not young.” Once again he held his hand to stop her reply. “Yes, I know I’ve dated women your age, but that’s different. They’re just women.”
Her eyebrows shot up at that and he saw her look down at herself.
He shook his head. “You misunderstand,” he told her, “it’s different because they never meant anything to me. But we’re getting off track. I haven’t explained why I behaved like a cad. This may sound odd to you under the circumstances, but I am a gentleman when it comes to the women I see. I don’t date married women and I don’t go after someone else’s... let’s just say I try not to get entangled with someone that’s involved, which brings me to the party. It’s convoluted reasoning, I know, but I thought I could solve my problem by introducing you to someone you might find interesting. If you were dating someone, you see, then you’d be off limits.”
Hearing himself say it out loud he knew it sounded ridicules, but he was stuck with it.
“What I didn’t count on was the feeling that my heart was being ripped out of my chest every time I made an introduction for the fear that you might actually... Despite the pain those thoughts brought I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Although my heart told me one thing, the small part of my brain that was functioning told me that you would be better off. Better off if you found someone who could give you all the things you want, need, deserve. A stable home, children, a safe and happy environment instead of being shot at, attacked, faking your own death, almost being blown-up. It’s not hard to figure out that you’d be better off not spending so much time with me. I realized how I have monopolized your time.”
Though he started out to try and preserve their partnership, at that moment he also realized he had to let her go. In order for her to attain any semblance of a normal life he had to make the hardest choice of his life. The partnership had to end, but perhaps, if he were lucky, he could, at least, salvage the friendship.
“I wanted... want you to have all the things you dream of, Mrs. Peel. You are the best thing to come into my life. You make me happy beyond my dreams. You make me laugh and look forward to every rise of the sun. You make it easier to live with the things I have done and still must do, but you need to be free to find that same happiness and someone to share it with. As long as you continue chasing around the country after thieves, lunatics, killers and spies the only thing you’re likely to find is an early grave. I accepted that reality a long time ago. Statistically speaking I’ve exceeded my live expectancy by ten years already.”
He looked at her knowing that in all likelihood it would be for the last time. “The only thing left to say is that I’m sorry, sorry that I didn’t have enough self control to keep my personal feelings from interfering, but it’s my problem, Mrs. Peel, not yours. I’ll get over it.” Liar he heard the voice in his head say. He moved to her door. “The last thing I want is to lose your friendship and if you should be so gracious as to overlook my faux pas, I promise you will never here of it again. Goodnight, Mrs. Peel.” With that he walked through the door closing it behind him.
She didn’t hear him leave, didn’t hear his `goodnight’. She was too stunned by what she thought she had heard. Her heart had leapt to her throat and she could swear her ears went numb, but it was simply the rush of blood at the sudden knowledge that Steed loved her. The attraction between them had been there from the beginning. There was no denying it, but her reasoning always held true. Simple attraction wasn’t enough, especially when it came to someone like Steed. She couldn’t help but hear the rumors even back then and things hadn’t improved with time. Although she’d never been someone who listened to gossip, she could see for herself that the reputation was well garnered. In the beginning she steeled herself against his charm, refusing to give into the feelings his presence seemed to engender in her and then came Christmas.
Yes, she remembered their kiss. How could she possibly forget? She remembered the weather, the ride, that silly bit of mistletoe. It had been an aberration, a simple gesture that overtook her before her mind could interfere. Steed had looked so incredibly handsome, although she could see he was tired, she could also see the shear happiness that lit his eyes at having triumphed over an attack that caused him to question the reliability of his own thoughts. The relief transformed his normal features into that of a small boy about to open his gifts on Christmas morning. So when he held that sprig over their heads she couldn’t resist, but there was no way she could have prepared herself for what happened. As his lips, so warm, so tender, so inviting, touched hers, desire washed over her and slammed through her like a runaway train. She hadn’t wanted it to end, wanted nothing more than to run her fingers through his thick hair, to deepen the kiss, but she hadn’t. That realization had been enough to bring her back to her senses. Steed was not someone to invest your emotions with, but that didn’t stop her from being grateful for the cold weather as well. The strength of her feelings had terrified her and left her shaking. If he thought that was because of the cold, then so much the better. If she hadn’t been so caught up in her own turmoil, she might have noticed that he was having just as much difficulty.
He was right about her applying the brakes. She needed time; time to think, to analyze, and to rationalize. She tried to convince herself that it was simply a response to the stress they had both been under. She couldn’t, wouldn’t fall for this man. She wasn’t exactly lying, just fooling herself. It hadn’t taken long to realize she had already fallen so far she could no longer see the edge of the abyss. She knew she’d have to hide the way she felt, never let him know, that could be disastrous, but it hadn’t been as difficult as she thought it would be. Steed flirted with almost every female that he met and if that brought her pain, she used it to distance herself. That is until Lord Perry’s party and Steed’s invitation. She had dressed for him. Tonight she had planned to... her thoughts suddenly screeched to a halt. What was it he had said after the part about the kiss? Better off? All the things? I’m sorry? She looked around and for the first time realized he’d left. She tried desperately to recall that moment. Had he said goodnight or goodbye? Panic gripped her. After a quick change she grabbed her keys and practically jumped into her small car.
His Apartment
Emma tapped lightly on Steed’s door. She knew he was home. She could see the apartment lights from the street and the Bentley was parked in its usual space, but it was late or rather, early depending on which view you took. Waiting for him to answer she wondered what she was going to say. She’d been in such a hurry to get there that she hadn’t stopped to think. 'Don’t leave' came to mind, but didn’t sound right somehow. After all, it was his apartment, his profession. If anyone left, it would be her. That was a heart breaking thought and she quickly buried it deep in her subconscious. She could follow his example and confess that she had dressed for him last night, that she had intended the evening to end in a totally different way. Confess that it wasn’t his behavior that angered her, not even his flirtations with other women. It was herself she was angry with, afraid that she had pushed him away once too often, that he had given up. Confess that she felt as though he were trying to hand her off to someone else and that getting angry at him was preferable to crying. Yes, she could confess all those things or she could tell him she didn’t want him to 'get over it'. That she hoped he would never...
The door opened. Steed stood in front of her. She could see the surprise and something that almost looked like fear on his tired face. The air between them suddenly seemed thick, tense. Emma’s mind went blank. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t recall what she had been rehearsing.
“May I come in?” she finally broke the silence.
“Yes, of course.” He followed her down the short flight of stairs almost running into her as she suddenly stopped a few feet from the bottom. He hesitated, but when she neither turned nor spoke, he stepped around and made his way to the drinks table. He glanced back at her and she turned to him. He could read the indecision on her face. Her lovely dark eyes shown with an emotion he couldn’t quite decipher, but her continued silence sent a chill up his spine. Obviously she was having trouble voicing whatever it was that brought her back. He knew he should ask her, but feared the answer. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that if it was that difficult for her it could only mean she had come to tell him their friendship could no longer continue. He busied himself with the brandy and couldn’t help wishing he could step back a few hours in time to the first brandy he had poured for them that evening. Not for the first time he wished he had taken the other road. He should have just let her cool off and taken his chances, but what was done, was done. He couldn’t take it back and he’d be damned if he’d try to play it off as an attempt at humor. He took a large drink of the warm, amber liquid. He had to end their interminable stalemate.
“Mrs. Peel . . .,” he started.
It was her turn to hold up a hand to silence him. As she watched him standing there his shirt sleeves rolled, enough buttons undone to reveal a bit of fine hair on what she could see was a more muscular chest than she’d thought, her mind settled. She knew exactly what she wanted to do.
“You left my apartment before I could give you something that belongs to you,” she finally told him.
He knew this wasn’t going to end well. He had evidently left some article at her place that she wanted to return so there could be no reason for him to show up again. He held his breath as she moved to him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t aware that I’d left anything.”
“Oh, you did, Steed,” she stated. “You definitely did.”
He saw her hand rise, felt the tingle as she caressed his cheek. “You left this.” He heard her whisper as her lips brushed his ever so softly. He knew he had to be dreaming. Like so many times lately he had slipped into a fantasy world. He felt as though his knees would buckle as this apparition continued. “And this.” Her warm lips moved down his throat. He was still in shock as she pushed the collar of his shirt aside and placed soft kisses along his shoulder moving up his neck. He felt her mouth on his ear nibbling his lobe. By the time her wonderful lips made their way along his jaw and back to his, he didn’t care if it was a dream or not. His mouth took hers. Her lips parted to his searching tongue as one of his hands came up to cradle her head while the other drew her closer.
He couldn’t believe he was kissing her or that she was kissing him back with a passion and hunger that was only eclipsed by his own. As many times as he’d dreamed of this moment nothing compared to the reality of the taste and feel of her sweet, soft lips on his. Even through their clothes he could feel the heat of her body pressed so closely to his. Her hair was fine and silky, the faintest hint of honeysuckle mixed with the delicate fragrance of her perfume. His hands moved over her back feeling the finely honed muscles concealed by the shapely curves he had admired for so long. He broke the kiss his lips traveling over her eyes, her wonderfully high cheek bones and moving around to caress the sensitive spot below her ear. He heard her sigh as she tilted her head granting his searching mouth access to her slender throat. He kissed the base working his way up to her chin before gazing into twin dark pools of desire.
“Emma,” was all he could say, in a voice so low, yet packed with so much emotion. She couldn’t help taking his mouth with hers again wanting to feel his tongue plunge deeply into hers. It was all Steed could do to keep his hands from sliding down to cup her firm buttocks. As much as he wanted to consume her, this was her dance and she had to lead, but there was no way she could miss the evidence of his burning need for her and no way for him to hide it.
Emma ran her fingers through his soft, thick hair savoring the plush feel of the short strands at the back. She held his mouth on hers relishing his deeply probing tongue. As his arms tightened their hold pressing her tightly against him she could feel the hard proof of his arousal and desire for her. She wanted to feel his touch on her skin, on her breasts, wanted to feel his rock hard erection in her hands, in her mouth, in her. Steed was so caught up in the feel of her against him, the feel of her soft tongue as it played with his that he hadn’t noticed her hands undoing the final buttons of his shirt until he felt her warm hands on his chest. He moaned into their kiss as her hands ran through the patch of hair and lingered on his small nipples before sliding down the tight, flat muscles of his stomach. She kissed the plateau at the base of his throat. As her mouth sucked on his nipple he felt the fire, reminiscent of that first kiss on that wintry day, rage within him. With one arm around her shoulders, he bent and lifted her into his arms. As she licked his ear he carried her to his bedroom. Placing one knee on the edge he laid her gently in the middle of his bed and gazed down into her lovely dark eyes. He saw the same fire in her, saw too the deep desire and just as earlier he had seen the face of midnight, he now saw the face of the sun shining bright and warm. Her hands moved again to his chest sliding up over his shoulders and down his biceps in an attempt to remove his shirt as he hovered over her. His attention was still held by her beauty. Despite what he saw in her eyes he had to be sure.
“Emma, are you sure this is what you want?” he asked.
One of her hands caressed his cheek again. Tears formed in her eyes as she looked deep into his soft, if at the moment fiery, grey eyes. “I love you too,” she told him. “Please, don’t ever say goodbye.”
“Never,” he whispered against her lips. His hand moved to the zipper at the top of her green and white cat suit and slowly pulled it down to her navel. His hand ran across her trim abdomen, over her ribs and his fire raged higher as he discovered that she wore nothing underneath the suit. She gasped as his hand caressed her breast and his thumb ran over her hardened nipple. As much as she enjoyed his kisses, she longed to feel his mouth on her and arched against his hand willing him to move lower. Almost as if he could read her mind, his lips left hers, moving over her chin, down her throat, the anticipation of his touch on her heated breasts was nothing compared to the tingling shock that ran through her body as his lips engulfed her nipple and began to suckle. He was as thorough in his love making as he was with everything that he did spending copious time on one breast, licking, biting and sucking bringing her to a heightened sense of excitement before moving to the next.
Steed new that he was in heaven. The feel of her firm breasts, the taste of her nipples in his mouth was beyond the dreams he’d had in the past. His imagination had never even come close. She was so responsive to his touch, to his mouth. He suddenly had the desire to see her. She groaned as his mouth left her. He raised her to a sitting position and slipped the cat suit from her shoulders. As she pulled her arms free he removed his shirt as he admired the beauty of her. He wanted more, wanted to see all of her. She rose as he pulled the suit down over her hips and completely off. The sight of her totally naked in his bed drove his desire beyond wild. He kissed her again pressing his bare chest to hers feeling the heat and the beat of her heart or maybe it was his own. His hand slipped over her abdomen moving further down to caress the auburn curls between her legs. The wetness he encountered told of her readiness before his fingers parted her and tickled her labia. Her hips came up off the bed as he inserted two fingers into her vagina. Her hands dug into the muscles of his back moving down to squeeze his buttocks. One hand slipped around and it was his turn to gasp as she found his erection and rubbed her hand up the length. Even trough his trousers she could tell that he was very large. She tried to locate his zipper, but from his position she couldn’t maneuver it.
“Steed, take off your pants,” she moaned. “I want to see you, feel you.”
As much as he wanted to grant her request, he wasn’t quite ready to relinquish his hold on her, to end his exploration of her exquisite body. She burned under his touch. Each caress of his lips fanned the heat and as she felt him move further down her writhing body, the anticipation of what he was about to do fueled the inferno. She felt him kiss each point of her hips, felt his breath tickle the curly hairs of her pubis, but as his fingers parted her and she felt his mouth and tongue, the volcano that had been dormant for so long erupted in a molten orgasm. Her hands, buried deep in his dark hair clenched, there didn’t seem to be enough air in the room as she tried to suck in enough to fill depleted lungs. She knew it was impossible, but she could swear she felt him smile as he continued to lick and tease her vagina. As her spasms lightened he rolled away from her and she opened her eyes to see him hastily removing the remainder of his clothing.
Finally, his entire muscular body was hers to view. The wide shoulders, the muscles of his strong back tapered to a trim waist and as he turned she held back a gasp at the sight of his biceps, so much larger than she had thought. His pectoral muscles stood out above a well developed abdomen. His thigh muscles were thick and hard, belying his easy gate. The same could be said of other parts of his marvelous body as her eyes locked on the length and breath of his hard erection. As pleasing and satisfying as her orgasm had been seconds before, she felt her body respond at the sight of him. And then he was with her, lying beside her, his mouth on hers so gently at first, but gradually deepening the kiss. His hand moved over her breast. She couldn’t wait any longer to feel him. Her hands searched for that solid form, sliding down his chest, over his stomach, lingering for a moment in the short hair that cushioned his solid penis. Not as fine as the hair on his head, but softer than she had expected. The tops of her fingers brushed against the heat of his member as she curled her fingers.
He moaned as she drew a finger up his long length, picked up the drops of early semen that permeated the smooth tip and ran her finger down the other side lubricating him before cupping his engorged balls. She held them, massaged them, played with the tiny hairs and he could not suppress a gasp, his mouth left her breast and he arched back as she wrapped her warm fingers around his penis. Steed clenched his jaw tightly to keep from coming in her hand, the feeling was so intense. “Steed, I need you,” she whispered against his ear. He wasn’t about to deny her this time. She opened for him as he rolled into position. Weight on his elbows, she could feel the blunt head of his erection seeking entrance. She raised her head capturing his mouth with hers, but neither could maintain the kiss as the feel of him sliding so slowly into her took them both beyond rapture. Two heads snapped back simultaneously. He had wished, dreamed, imagined this moment for so long, but the warmth, moistness, tightness as she consumed him, taking his entire length and width, sent him to the other side of conscious thought.
He felt himself floating. As she rose to meet his thrusts he could tell that despite her earlier peak she was in much the same condition as he found himself. As much as he wanted to prolong their joining he knew that the sensation was too great. It would only take a few more deep thrusts before he lost control. Sweat rolled down his back and dripped from his face to her breasts as he tried valiantly to delay the ending. She knew he was close, knew he was struggling to maintain control. His thrusts suddenly became deep and quick. She wasn’t far behind him. One or two more . . . a deep growl escaped him as he thrust and held it. She felt the white heat erupt deep inside and it was enough to trigger her. He moved slightly with each spasm of his buttocks and moaned her name as her vagina squeezed him with each contraction. It felt as though it went on forever, him erupting, emptying everything he had into her while her body seemed to demand more.
He collapsed on her with a sigh, but she didn’t mind the weight as her arms went around his shoulders and hugged him to her. After a few deep breaths he kissed her ear, her shoulder and raised enough to kiss her lips. He rolled to her side, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him as his now flaccid penis slipped from her. Still somewhat stunned by what had happened he knew that no other woman had ever made him feel as she did. “Emma, you are magnificent,” he told her. She pushed him onto his back and snuggled close, one leg between his and her head cradled in his arms. She slipped her hand onto his chest idly playing with the hair there.
They were quiet, each wrapped in their own thoughts as their heart rates returned to normal. Steed’s hand stroked her back while she continued to rub his chest. It was Emma that finally broke the silence.
“Steed?”
“Yes, love,” he said kissing the top of her head.
She felt the heat stir anew with his words. “Did you know I had planned to seduce you tonight after the party?”
“Didn’t have a clue,” he answered honestly more than a little surprised. “Do you think if I had we’d have even made it to the party?”
“Of course I was going to make you think that it was all your idea.” She felt him chuckle.
“Isn’t that always the way?” he asked.
Her hand left is chest following the light trail of hair down to his navel before traveling back the way it had gone. She moved it over one of his nipples playfully. They were silent again as he closed his eyes enjoying the sensations she was creating in him. She felt him respond, the nipple growing hard under her fingers. She rose up and looked in his half hooded eyes.
“Did you really plan to leave me?” she asked.
He had hoped she wouldn’t ask, but felt he owed her the truth. “I didn’t want to,” he explained pulling her closer, “but I felt I had to offer you the opportunity. The choice was always yours, Emma.”
She nodded. “I’m not sure you understood my response to that,” she told him, her voice taking on a sensual tone. “Perhaps I should explain it again just to be sure.” Her mouth dropped to his other nipple that quickly became as solid as the other.
He released her as she slid on top of him, her mouth following the trail her hand had made a moment before. She could feel his renewed arousal against her stomach as she moved down. She looked up at him as her chin came in contact with the round head, droplets of semen rubbing off on to her. She made sure he was watching as she drew the thick substance from beneath with her fingers and sucked them dry.
“I’m going to make sure you never misunderstand again,” she whispered and he watched her drop, felt her take him in her warm, wonderful mouth.
FIN
© Rhonda Wilson 2006
No aspect of this story may be used elsewhere without the expressed prior written consent of the author. These stories may not be altered in any way or sold; all copyright information must appear with this work at all times. Please read disclaimers and warnings on top of each story. Feel free to send constructive comments to the author.. :o)
Back to The Avengers Library