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Chapter2:

Driving home, my mind was swamped with thoughts, mainly about my troublesome sister and why I hadn't cut ties with her like my father and stepmother, Lily. It was ironic because she wasn't even my full sibling, just my half-sister. I hadn't caught her in the act of giving an unconscious man a blowjob like my father did, but she had done plenty of other awful things to me that should have warranted disowning her.

In a strange twist of fate, my father married my mother, who was wild and adventurous, and then he married Lily, who was an angel in comparison. But somewhere in between those marriages, they managed to create a "hell child."

My mother left when I was just three, but she came back occasionally, and when she did, we had a blast. I didn't remember much from those times, but I recalled the fun and carefree spirit she brought with her. Rules and discipline were not her thing; she was all about messy, sticky food, exciting places, and making the most of good times.

Everything was going fine during one of my visits with my mother until she met a guy she really liked, and I mean really liked. She took him back to her hotel room, handed me a bunch of candy, and instructed me to wait outside until she called me back in.

As I sat on a bench, swinging my legs and munching on candy, lost in daydreams for what felt like forever, the motel manager noticed me and grew concerned. He called the police, thinking it wasn't right for a young kid to be left unattended outside for such a long time. When the police arrived, I gave them my phone number, which Dad had made sure I memorized, and they called him. He rushed over to pick me up, but little did I know that he had quite the confrontation with my mom at the hotel. Her one-day-stand was annoyed, demanding they keep it down since he was trying to get some sleep. After that incident, I never saw my mom again. Ever.

For a while, I did miss my biological mother, even though I didn't really know her that well. But at that time, Lily had already become a significant part of our lives.

Lily was simply amazing. She was the coolest stepmom anyone could ask for. Sweet, funny, and overflowing with love for my dad. Plus, she always had homemade cookies in the cookie jar, and for a kid like me, being raised by a dad who was all man, having Lily's cookies around made her practically perfect in my eyes.

When she and Dad got married, it was a special day indeed. Unlike traditional flower girls, Lily walked down the aisle with one hand through the crook of her father's arm and the other clutching mine. It was her way of making our special day even more memorable. I was just six at the time, but I'll never forget how she made me feel so cherished, and that feeling has stayed with me all these years.

That's just the kind of person Lily was – always making people feel special and loved, and it wasn't the first or last time she did it.

Then my dad and Lily had Payton, who was like my mom multiplied by, say, five million.

It was an ironic twist of fate, the dynamic between my dad, Lily, and me.

Another thing on my mind was everything about Steel. What he said, the way he looked at me, and how he made me feel.

And speaking of men, there was the guy whose name I still didn't know, but I was regularly sleeping with him. We first met at a restaurant about a year and a half ago, ended up at my place, and had the most incredible sex I'd ever experienced. Surprisingly, he kept coming back for more, proving that our first time together was no fluke, but rather a preview of even better things to come.

I never gave him a key, and how he managed to get in was as mysterious as his name. But somehow, he did. His visits were inconsistent - not every night; sometimes it was once a week, other times twice, and occasionally he'd skip a week. There was even a time he was gone for three weeks, which totally freaked me out, and then I got freaked out by how much it freaked me out.

Despite his unpredictable appearances, one thing was certain - he always came back. Always.

Having the Mysterious Stranger in my life was enough of a challenge; I surely didn't need the kind of trouble that Steel seemed to attract. Sure, he thought I was cute, and we knew each other's names (something the Mysterious Stranger didn't know). However, the fact that my sister owed him over two million dollars was genuinely scary.

Moreover, he warned me about potentially getting on the radar of "others" and getting into "situations." I had no desire to be on anyone's radar, and I already found myself in enough situations, perhaps inherited from my mother's side. The last thing I needed was Payton dragging me into her mess.

And lastly, I was thinking about my Mysterious Stranger. The days after he visited, my mind couldn't help but be preoccupied with thoughts of him. I always wondered what it was about him that captivated me so much. The truth was, I didn't ask him to leave when he visited; instead, I found myself eagerly anticipating his return. Now, as I pondered my situation, I couldn't fathom moving on to someone else. How could I when I already had what might just be the most incredible lover in the world sneaking into my life in the dead of night? Those encounters left me questioning how I could ever settle for less.

Since meeting The Great MS, my dating life had been a disaster. Three dates, but none of them could compare to the little I had with MS, and as a result, none of them made it past the first date or even close to second base (yes, MS was a phenomenal kisser).

I realized that he was totally throwing my life off balance, but deep down, I knew the truth. It wasn't him; it was me who was messing up my life. My heart and mind were entangled in a web of emotions, leaving me utterly confused.

With these thoughts swirling in my head, I parked my car in the driveway, approached my house while gazing at my boots, slid the key into the lock, and opened my door. It was time to face the tangled mess of emotions I had created for myself.

However, even if I had been paying attention, nothing could have prepared me for the sudden turn of events that unfolded next. As I cleared the doorway and stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind me with a force that startled me. Before I could fully register what was happening, a strong hand pushed against my chest, pinning me forcefully against the door. The impact was both harsh and deafening.

Suddenly, there he was—a man I had seen once before, but only in the dim light of night. He never bothered to turn on the lights during his visits to me.

Gazing into those somewhat familiar black eyes, I felt a mix of surprise and awe. In my wildest daydreams, I couldn't have imagined he would be this breathtakingly beautiful.

Struggling to find my voice, I managed to whisper, "What are you doing here?"

"Are you freaking crazy?" he barked in my face.

I blinked, taken aback by his unexpected outburst and the intensity of his question. "What?" I asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Strutting into Drive like you did. Jesus, are you insane?" he continued.

I blinked again, feeling more puzzled than ever. How did he know I went to Drive? And why was he there during the day? Moreover, his incredibly handsome face clearly indicated he was extremely angry.

"Um..." I stammered, struggling to find the right words to respond.

"Answer me, babe," he demanded.

Yikes. He was scarier than Steel, Tank, and the whole biker gang combined.

"Penn, I said answer me." His deep voice was starting to rumble.

But I blinked again.

"Wait a sec, how in the world do you know all that about me?" I asked, totally taken aback.

His gaze stayed fixed on me, and despite the headshake, his angry expression remained unyielding.

"Geez, you're quite the character," he muttered.

"Huh?" I murmured, trying to make sense of it all.

With his hands planted on his hips, he leaned in even closer, nearly nose-to-nose with me. "Yeah, Penn, I know all about you. Pennelope Piper Casey, age thirty-three. You work as a freelance editor, making sure to pay your taxes, mortgage, and bills promptly. Once upon a time, you were married for a couple of years to a guy who couldn't keep it in his pants, and has since gone on to marry three other women and is now in the middle of his fourth divorce. Your dad, Baxter Casey, served in the Army and now works as a construction foreman. He's happily married to Lily Casey, who happens to be an executive secretary for some hotshot divorce attorney that got you out of that mess you got into with that jerk. You hang out with Julia Cooper, who does dispatch at Denver PD, and Miley Anderson, who's a Jill-of-all-trades, mostly in retail. And you're friendly with Troy Nateell, who's dying to get in your pants, but you're completely clueless, and he's completely spineless. Your sister is the epitome of a loser. You spend way too much on clothes, and when you go out, you show way too much skin. Oh, and let's not forget the intimate details—apparently, I'm the only guy who's had the pleasure of your company and body for the past year and a half.”

Once again, I was left stunned and speechless. How did he know so much about me? I tried to collect my thoughts but it was hard to focus when he seemed to have all the answers.

"Look, I know who I sleep with," he replied, not giving away any of his secrets. But he didn't stop there. "Now tell me, what possessed you to walk into Drive like that?"

"I needed to talk to Tank," I explained, trying to keep my response simple despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.

"You needed to talk to Tank," he repeated, seeming to mull over my explanation. "Babe, you were flying under the radar, and now you're glowing like a beacon."

"What does that mean?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"It means you're in trouble," he answered flatly, and my heart sank.

I was belatedly getting angry, my frustration simmering just below the surface. Stepping an inch away from the door, I straightened my shoulders and mustered the courage to challenge him. "Okay," I said firmly, "now what does that mean?"

"I think you get that your sister is a piece of trash," he informed me matter-of-factly.

It was true, Payton was indeed a piece of trash, and even my Dad, Lily, or I could call her that. Even Steel and Tank, who she owed over two million dollars, could get away with calling her that.

But the one person who could not was the man standing in front of me, a man I knew intimately but this was the first time I'd seen his face by the light of day. And one thing was becoming clear: he was a big, fat jerk!

"Do not call Payton a piece of trash," I warned him sternly.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and it was frustrating because he was incredibly handsome, with his rich brown skin, black eyes, strong jaw, short, thick black hair, and well-built physique – all of it hinting at Hispanic or maybe Italian origins, and all of it looking unbelievably amazing. But the worst part for me, at that moment, was that he could be even more drop-dead gorgeous with his eyebrows raised in disbelief, as if he thought I was an idiot.

"You're saying you don't know your sister's trash?" he asked, his voice tinged with incredulity.

"No, I'm saying you can't call her trash. I can call her trash, but you can't," I retorted.

He scowled at me some more, then muttered, "Fuck me."

"I think we're done here," I announced, attempting to move toward the door, but he suddenly pinned me against it again with his big, hard, sculpted, and exceptionally warm body, both his hands on either side of my neck, thumbs at my jaw, forcing me to look up at him.

"I insist you step back," I reiterated, trying to sound firm despite my racing heart. His closeness was unnerving, and I didn't want him to see how much he was affecting me.

He finally complied, stepping back with a smug grin on his face. "Feisty, huh? I like that."

"I don't care what you like," I shot back, trying to regain my composure.

He chuckled, and it sent a shiver down my spine. "I think you do."

I took a deep breath and tried to regain control of the situation. "Look, I don't want any trouble. I don't want to be involved in whatever mess my sister got herself into. I just want to live my life in peace."

He studied me for a moment, his gaze intense. "Well, Sweet Pea, that might be easier said than done."

He continued to disregard my question, and his tone grew more serious. "The best course of action when Roxy showed up on your doorstep would have been to close the door, shut out the drama, and return to your work. But you didn't. You walked into Drive, catching Steel's attention, and let me tell you, babe, you do not want to catch Steel's attention. By doing that, you made yourself visible to people you definitely don't want to know you exist. That's in the past now. Your sister's problems are not your problems, and you need to cut ties with her. Don't let her bring you down. Keep your head down, be smart, and stay out of trouble. Stick to what you know, who you know, and where you know. Don't veer from your regular routine. Do you understand?"

"How did you know Roxy was here?" I asked again, more determined this time.

He appeared more scary and impatient with his eyebrows drawn together tightly. "Get it together, Sweet Pea, I keep track of things."

"You keep track of things?"

"Yeah, you're with me, so I keep track of you."

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I'm with you?"

"Babe, I'm sleeping with you, aren't I?"

This was undeniably true. I couldn't see his face, but I knew that deep voice. He was coMSanding in bed, and I recognized that tone anywhere.

"Okay," I began, "maybe we should talk about our relationship at this point."

"Listen up, Penn, the reason our relationship is the way it is, is so I never have to waste my time discussing it," he replied sharply.

I was starting to get really angry now.

"I think you should step back and then leave," I told him firmly.

"And I think you should acknowledge that you understand, and then I'll leave," he retorted.

"Fine, I understand you, now... go," I retorted, determined to get him to leave.

He stood his ground, his penetrating gaze still fixated on me.

"Okay, I get it. You can go now," I repeated, hoping he'd finally take the hint.

Surprisingly, his eyes softened, and he gently moved his thumbs from under my jaws to stroke their edges.

Then he said in a more understanding tone, "You seem upset."

Was he serious? Of course, I was upset!

"Uh... yeah," I confirmed, not hiding my irritation.

"Try not to be," he ordered, as if it was that easy.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You can't just tell me not to be upset," I shot back.

"Babe, trust me, I've got better things to do than hang around here," he responded, seeming slightly annoyed himself.

My frustration was reaching its peak. Did people's heads actually explode from anger? Because I felt like mine might just burst any second.

"Well, then maybe you should go and do those better things," I retorted, my voice sharp.

His reply was firm, "The point is, I'm here for a reason."

"Well, hate to break it to ya, but I've gotta say, I've had better visits with you in the past," I retorted, trying to hold my ground.

And then it happened - he grinned, and in that moment, my heart skipped a beat. I'd never seen him smile before, not even on that first night we met, and if he was already attractive, his smile just blew me away. Seriously, it was like he had this dazzling power that could knock the socks off anyone.

To make matters worse, he had not one but two dimples. Lordy be, I was a goner.

"Can't you see why I'm upset?" he asked gently, his smile still captivating.

"No, and there's no good excuse for acting like a jerk. So if you're really so busy, let me save you the trouble and just go," I snapped back, determined to stand my ground.

But he wasn't backing down. "Today, you messed up, Penn," he said firmly.

"I think you've made that perfectly clear," I shot back, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

For some reason, the warmth in his eyes deepened, and he whispered a warning, "Don't call me baby when you're upset, Sweet Pea."

"Don't call me Sweet Pea at all," I retorted, not about to back down.

"You call me baby when we're intimate," he stated, and I wasn't sure if it was a demand or a reminder, but it sounded like both.

"Well, don't expect that to happen again anytime soon," I replied, determined to stand my ground.

The warmth in his eyes intensified, and his thumbs stroked my jaws again. I tried to pull away, but his hands held me firmly in place.

"You shouldn't make threats you can't keep," he advised, still speaking in a gentle tone.

"How many times do I have to tell you to leave?" I asked, frustration seeping into my voice.

He paid no attention to my protests and boldly declared, "I put an end to things."

I couldn't believe he was serious.

"Embracing change can be invigorating, you know, it keeps life interesting and your senses alert," I tried to reason with him.

"Don't test me on that, Pennelope," he warned with a hint of menace. "You won't like the consequences."

"What's your name?" I dared to ask, not backing down.

He met my dare with a challenge of his own. "You can call me baby."

"No, I mean, what's your real name?" I insisted, growing impatient.

"Sometimes, you can call me honey," he teased.

"What... is... your name?" I demanded, trying to get a straight answer out of him.

"But I prefer baby," he evaded with a smirk.

Frustration mounting, I rolled my eyes and sighed in exasperation. "Oh, come on!" I blurted out, stomping my foot in frustration and inadvertently finding my hands at his waist, pushing back to create some distance between us.

He stood his ground, unmoving.

My eyes rolled back to meet his, and I quickly realized my mistake when I felt one of his hands disappear, only to find his mouth at my neck, his lips grazing the skin behind my ear, and then his warm tongue sending shivers down my spine.

Against my will, my entire body trembled with anticipation.

He pulled his face back from my neck, locking eyes with mine, his hand returning to cradle my jaw as he whispered, "Yeah."

Then, as if he possessed supernatural powers, he suddenly vanished from my proximity in the blink of an eye.

Staring at the now closed door, I couldn't believe he had disappeared so quickly. I moved to the window and checked, just to be sure, and I was right—he was gone.

Turning back to face my messy living room, I couldn't help but think that he had definitely felt the tremble that surged through me.

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