Chapter Two: Steele

He watched the pulse beat slowly beneath the  skin of her neck. Her head was turned at an  uncomfortable angle and almost resting on her own  shoulder. Her legs were sprawled with her skirt  having risen up to expose a little too much of her  sexy, toned thigh. He had a sudden urge to reach  over and run the palm of his hand up her thigh and  over the silky texture of the white stockings she  wore. He knew he shouldn’t even be looking at her  this way. His boss wouldn’t like it.  

His boss had said not to hurt her. If there was  any hurting to occur it would be administered by  Mr. Tremaine himself. So, he’d elected to simply  inject her with a small dose of midazolam. It was a  sedative often used during surgery that didn’t  usually have too many side effects. This way she  wouldn’t hurt herself trying to run away and she’d  have a comfortable ride into Atlantic City, where  Mr. Tremaine was impatiently waiting.  

They rode in silence inside the lush interior of  the luxury sedan. Rocco rode up front and had only  spoken two words, "Let's go," to Max, the driver,  after depositing her into the back seat. Since then,  no one had uttered a word and the only sounds  were of the tires humming over the streets below  and the shallow breathing of the woman. 

To say that she was amazingly beautiful would  be an understatement. She had what appeared to  be long, wavy blond hair, which was currently  tamed and twisted into a tight bun at the top of  her head. Her eyelids displayed long eye lashes and  her lips were in a natural state of pout. He had a  brief flickering image of those lips curling around  his erection as her eyes looked up at him from  below.  

He shook his head to bring him out of the  continued naughty fantasies he was having about  the woman. Damn it, Steele! Get a grip. He tried  to tear his eyes away from the slopes of her breasts  as they rose and fell beneath her charcoal grey,  business suit jacket.  

He looked out the window and saw that they  were approaching The Maine Casino, owned and  operated by non-other than Victor Tremaine. It was  one of the most prosperous casinos in the Atlantic  City area and it netted somewhere in the mega millions on a regular basis. Of course, who knew  what the official books stated? Steele knew there  was a lot of money that changed hands “under the  table” in a place such as this one.  

He’d been working with Mr. Tremaine as the  Director of Security for almost six months now.  He’d seen a lot of women coming and going out of  his boss’ office and his penthouse suite, which was  located conveniently atop the casino tower. He’d  only seen this woman a few times, but he’d noticed a change in Tremaine’s behavior since this one had  come along.  

Tremaine seemed obsessed with her. This sent  up an alert on Steele’s radar and he’d been waiting  for Tremaine to send him on a mission of this sort.  He knew Tremaine always got his way…one way or  another.  

It had been easy to find her. They just had to  wait outside the office building until she finally left  work. He’d not pegged her as a business suit,  workaholic type of chick. She certainly didn’t dress  this way when she came to visit Tremaine at the  casino. Then she always wore skimpy dresses or  tight-fitting, low-slung blue jeans.  

This was a new look for her and Steele found  himself both intrigued and extremely turned on by  her business attire.  

As they pulled into the casino parking lot,  Rocco punched a number on his cell phone.   “Yes sir, we’re here,” Rocco said in his deep,  gravelly voice. He nodded at the phone instead of  speaking and then snapped the phone shut without  another word.  

As if reading Rocco’s mind, Max drove the car  around the back of the building and into a parking  deck below the casino. He pulled the car in front of  the elevators and waited for Steele and Rocco to  exit the vehicle. When they reached the backseat  passenger side door, Steele shook his head at  Rocco. 

“I’ve got her,” Steele said. It was not a  question, it was an order. A hint of surprise  flickered in Rocco’s eyes but he didn’t argue. He  knew not to argue with Tremaine’s right-hand man,  but he was always the one who did the “hands on”  tasks.  

Rocco slinked his large, muscular frame over to  the elevator and pushed the button. The doors  opened and he entered the elevator, inserting a  key into the control panel. This key would do two  things: it would hold the door open until Steele and  the woman were inside, and it would allow the  elevator to access the private penthouse floor.  

Steele leaned his upper body into the back of  the car and slipped one arm under her knees and  the other behind her back. As he lifted her out of  the car, she mumbled something incoherent and  then nuzzled her face into the hollow of his neck.  He felt a warm sensation travel down his neck and  torso and settle in his groin. Just the scent of this  woman was making it hard for him to concentrate.  He silently berated himself for allowing her to let  him lose focus. If he lost focus, his job could  become very dangerous, very quickly.  

He smoothly whisked her into the waiting  elevator and Rocco punched in the access code  while turning the key. The elevator doors closed  and began to glide to the top of the building.