He watched the sleek limo's taillights fade into the night. Fishing in his pocket, he brought out a pack of Marlboros and thumped it upside down impatiently on the palm of his hand. Hard, pounding whacks echoed down the alley he'd been hiding in. Tearing the plastic off and that annoying fucking bit of tinfoil; he tossed them on the ground to mingle with the rest of the debris. His gold pinky ring flashed and twinkled briefly underneath the streetlamp's glow.

Digging his zippo out of his pants pocket, he cupped the end of his smoke with his hand to deflect the wind and rain. The zippo flared to life, illuminating his little hideaway for a few seconds. The smell of butane and smoke a welcomed relief to the rancid smell of trash and piss, he thought as he took a deep pull into his lungs. Closing the zippo with a metallic click, he put it back into his pocket.

Kicking his head back, he blew a steady stream of smoke into the air and watched it dissipate into nothing. Nothing. That's exactly what he had left. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. He took another hard hit and tried to blow it out his nose. Wincing and cussing in pain, when he realized he couldn't.

Fucking cunt. Fucking stupid ass worthless piece of shit woman. He glared down the street while he leaned against the building. No sense in hiding now, she was gone. Along with his plans for payback. Saved and safely tucked away in that motherfuckers Steele's fancy fucking limo.

He'd been sitting across the street for hours, waiting. Waiting until he saw that stupid bitch come out. He followed her for blocks, sticking to the shadows...waiting for his moment. He was about to make his move, when she spooked and dove head first into oncoming traffic. For a few minutes he thought and prayed she was dead.

But no, Steele had to come in and save the motherfucking day! He took a puff and blew it out angrily. If he had a gun, he would have shot them all, starting with the blonde bimbo.

He would have saved Trixie for last, though. Make her pay for her treachery...oh fuck...how he was going to make her pay. He'd thought of nothing else while he sat in the fucking rain. He fantasized all the ways he was going to make her suffer before he finished her off. All the ways he was going to make her scream. He adjusted his cock in his pants. His mouth twisted into a sardonic sneer, making him groan. That club owner fucker would get his too; he'd make sure of it, along with anyone else who stood in his way. Pity it couldn't have been tonight...

No matter. Thanks to Steele, he had all the time in the fucking world. He took the last drag off his cigarette and flicked it harshly onto the pavement, crushing it with the heel of his shoe.

He would get his revenge.

*    *    *    *

"Have you decided?" he demanded, his voice impatient.

Abby speared him with an annoyed look. "Since you won't let me out of this car, I guess I really don't have any other choice, but to go along with your plans," she huffed.

"Good." He nodded as he moved to lean over her.

"What are you doing?" She cried in surprise, dropping the ice-pack and scooting her ass back until she was almost sitting on top of the hand rest.

He didn't answer, but started to rummage around in his jacket he had laid over her when he deposited her in the car. Abby squirmed and wiggled to try and avoid his probing hands.

"Relax," he snapped, holding up the cell phone he'd dug out of the pockets. "I need to make a phone call." He grabbed the towel she'd dropped and gently pressed it back onto her forehead. "Keep that on there," he gruffly told her and she placed her trembling hand on it to hold it in place. His dark gaze drifted over her face before he quickly turned away and began scrolling through his phone.

His beautifully sculpted features were illuminated for a moment, while those obsidian eyes of his narrowed in concentration at the screen. As if sensing her stare, he turned to look at her, giving a little wink. Her heart leaped into her throat at the visual contact. Abby never really judged anyone by looks before, but his movie-star face and scrumptious body, were hard to resist. She was saved from his swarthy gaze by his call being connected and his attention returned to the phone.

"Marissa." His commanding tone was short and for a moment, Abby felt sorry for whoever it was on the other end of the line. No hello, no pleasantries or sorry for the ungodly hour...just rapid barks of orders.

Closing her eyes and blocking out his dictation to the poor Marissa, Abby leaned her head back and adjusted the now dripping ice-pack. God, her head hurt...hell...everything hurt. All she wanted to do was curl up into a ball in a nice warm bed and sleep for a hundred years. She sighed, but there would be no Sleeping Beauty for her, not until she got out of this diabolical situation.

Practically every part of Abby's body screamed for her to find some kind of escape away from the intoxicating man who kept looking at her like she was some kind of science experiment gone bad. Except for one and that one hadn't had sex in over a year.

She popped one eye open when she felt a touch on her leg. He was absentmindedly stroking her calf through the leather of her boot while he jabbered away on the phone. The boot, whose equally evil twin, had caused this entire calamity. The sweet motions of his hand weren't helping with her thinking skills.

Every small stroke of his palm caused a streak of tingles to race up her leg and dance between her legs, making her writhe in her seat. Closing her eyes again, she gulped back a moan as she felt the unfamiliar wetness in her panties.

She wasn't a virgin. A quick romp in the back of Kyle Sanderson's Camry had put a speedy end to that at the tender age of 16. Two years after her mother's death, a shudder went through her from both the memories and as a result of another pass of his distracting petting.

Abby hadn't thought about sex in months, but this man was making her think about more than she remembered to breathe. She swore she could almost feel the caress on her bare skin and could only imagine what effect it would have if he actually did touch her.

Her familiarity in the matter was limited, but somehow she knew his sexual powers were far more advanced than Kyle's clumsy, sweaty endeavors that night which had been a sad culmination of her attempts to find the love and acceptance she'd been desperately seeking after her mother married. All she got for her troubles was a rather sad and pathetic experience which ended in an even more pitiful break-up.

It was years later before she attempted it again with Roger. He had been so sweet and kind. The one man in what seemed ages she could trust. She'd been peddling coffee at a Starbucks wannabe in Chicago when she met Detective Clark.

He drank a lot of shitty coffee before she finally agreed to go out with him. Abby snorted softly to herself. How naïve she'd been thinking she could ever have a normal relationship. When Roger finally coaxed her secrets out, she actually believed they could conquer the demon who hounded her every step.

The first night in his bed...the first time he had held her...the first time she felt what it was like to be truly loved by a man...was the last night she ever saw him. Abby's stomach rolled violently and she had to swallow quickly to keep herself from vomiting all over the pristine leather seats.

No, she couldn't allow herself to go there. Not now. Not ever. It was too still too fresh and painful even after all these months. That vile excuse for a human being already overwhelmed her life, but she'd be damned if she would allow him to take up more residence in her head than he already possessed. With a huge effort, she shoved those dark memories back into the box in the obscurest corner of her mind.

He and these damn boots were the reason she was in this predicament. It was his fault she was now in New York and the boots fault her ass was wiggling in Adam Steele's limo.

"Are you in pain?" Adam's deep bass request snapped her out of her reverie. He'd obviously finished his phone call and picked up his newest hobby of watching her again.

"You hit me with a car, what do you think?" Abby kept her eyes firmly closed. The pain, memories and sexual tension she was feeling being near him spiked her temper. She really didn't want to deal with the very person who she suddenly found herself hot and horny over.

"I think you're being slightly melodramatic, don't you?"

"If you don't want a sarcastic answer, don't ask a stupid question."

"Are you constantly this bitchy?" His voice was low and carried a hint of a threat, but Abby didn't care one lick about his displeasure with her attitude.

"Being dramatic and bitchy is all part of my mystique. Aren't you happy you forced me into your stupid car now?"

Abby's eyes snapped open when she felt him move. In less time than it took to open her lids, he was there hovering above her, his lips mere millimeters from her own. Holy crap on a cracker! He smelled fantastic. The jacket couldn't compare to the divine scent wafting into her senses from his skin. It was rich, dark, hot and completely male and it intoxicated her.

The leather of the seats creaked in protest as he supported his immense body above hers and put those tantalizing lips next to her ear. She was completely caged by his presence. Dropping the sloppy ice-pack, Abby reached out with her hands, hands that were supposed to push him away, but betrayed her by grabbing hold and trying to pull him closer.

His lips touched the outer shell of her ear and the warmth of his breath made her inhale in anticipation. Abby reached out, holding on for dear life. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Her heart slammed so hard in her chest, she was certain he would feel it pounding against his own.

"You have no idea what I am feeling right now," he said hotly, the whisper touches of his lips making her strain against him. A low moan escaped her parted lips as he dropped a soft kiss under the lobe of her ear causing her whole body to shiver and break out in goosebumps.

His head temporarily lingered and she could feel him nuzzling her neck, breathing her in. His soft waves of hair brushed against her cheek and she couldn't help but to do a little burrowing of her own.

All too soon, he pulled back and once again was suspended over her, his dark eyes smoldering with promise. She knew she should pull away, but his hypnotic stare only drew her closer. For the first time in forever, she wanted to be kissed and not by just any man...she wanted to be kissed by Adam Steele.

"If you can reel in your mystique, we've arrived and you can finally get out of my limo," he said, smiling down at her. He ran his finger tips leisurely along her jaw before smoothly moving off and out of the car leaving her panting trying to catch her breath.

What the hell was that? Abby looked down at the very hands that double crossed her and frowned. How in the world had he made her go from mega bitch to wanton in a heartbeat? Her face flamed hot and she snagged the long forgot pack off the floor and buried her head in it, trying to cool both her embarrassment and blaze of raging lust coursing through her blood.

Attraction was one thing, but this was something totally different. She'd never felt this with Roger and certainly nothing remotely close to this with Kyle. Adam was like an aphrodisiac to her soul.

The door she'd been leaning against contemplating her strange reactions suddenly popped open causing her to topple out backwards. Yelping in surprise, she windmilled her arms in an effort to catch herself, but Adam's quick reflexes caught her in his steely arms. In a blink of an eye she was once again cuddled back up against his impressive chest.

"You don't have to carry me everywhere," she griped, trying to ignore how warm his skin was through his shirt.

"I'm only assuring to your safety. Would you have preferred I let you fall?" His light teasing tone continued to chafe her already wounded pride.

"No!"

"Then you can be agreeable. Good to know." He nodded, before striding off with her in his arms with his typical ease.

Instead of answering him with another waspish retort, Abby focused on her environment, or what there was of it anyway. It seemed the limo had pulled into a vast underground parking structure. Not much to look at really, unless you were into cars and the smell of octane. It was like a thousand other parking garages...damp, dimly lit and miles of poured concrete broken up with occasional pillars and hundreds of painted white lines designating spaces.

Nothing specific jumped out at her which would give her some inkling as to where she was and she cussed at her stupidity for not paying attention in the car to where they were going. Erich stood by a bank of elevators waiting, a plastic credit card in his hand at the ready.

Upon their approach, he slid the card into a slot and the doors swiftly opened allowing Adam to step in without breaking his stride. Once inside, Erich reached around to the keypad and punched in a random group of numbers before stepping back into the garage.

"Goodnight, sir," he said.

Adam gave him a brief nod and the doors closed leaving only the two of them...alone.

"He's not coming?" Abby asked, her voice coming out a bit high pitched as she felt the elevator start to rise.

"No," he answered simply, looking down at her. His expression remained aloof, but his eyes were full of passion, hot and hungry. The shock of his gaze caused her blood pressure to careen out of control.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she croaked.

"Why? Are you afraid of the Big Bad Wolf, Trixie?"

I wanted to take this time to thank you for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this installment of Bending Steele, and that you'll consider giving it a vote. I can't tell you how much your support means to me and how much it motivates me to keep going.

If you find any errors along the way, don't be afraid to point them out and I always enjoy any recommendations or critiques you may have. As always, I will try and update once a week, usually on Thursdays, but if you don't see an update here, check out my other story When Roses Collide. Thanks again!