I never thought I’d say this, but it feels good to wake up next to her.

I’m not the kind of man who likes to sleep next to a woman. I relish my independence, and that extends to my own bed. Sure, I might wake up next to a bunch of naked women from time to time, but that’s just the exception that proves the rule. In fact, that’s a rule I might uphold too harshly; I've kicked more woman from my bed than I care to count, even after they told me how much they enjoyed our time together.

But it’s different with Penny. With her, it just feels right.

I roll to the side, resting my hand on the side of her body, and let my fingers trail down to her naked hip. The sheet falls down from her, baring her shoulders and back, and then she stirs in her sleep.

“G’morning,” she whispers, turning to me and smiling. God, her fucking smile. Is there anything more perfect on Earth than this smile? I seriously fucking doubt it.

“G’morning,” I whisper back at her, pressing my lips on hers. I push her hair back over her shoulder, smiling, and then sit up on the bed.

Maybe I’m digging a hole for myself (and a deep one at that), but I can’t stop myself from doing it. If Penny told me the whole truth, she wanted to come clean before I even started asking the right questions. And why wouldn’t I believe her? I know Rhoda, her mother and my ex-wife, and I sure as hell also know Laurel Trask.

The mayor lives up to the Trask name, that much is for sure; but while her brother had principles, Laurel seems to have none. I might be as a blind as a fucking bat when it comes to Penny, but knowing Rhoda and Laurel as well as I do, I can’t help but think of my stepdaughter as a victim of the machinations of cold ruthless women.

“You okay?” Penny asks me, her hand on my shoulder as she sits up by my side, clutching the sheets to her naked chest.

“I’m okay,” I tell her, but then I backstep and correct myself: “We’re okay.”

“We are,” she says with a nod, a gentle smile on her lips. Fuck, it really feels good to see her smile.

Needing some sunlight to clear my head, I get dressed and tell Penny we’re having brunch. I call for the limo to pick us up and, in less than twenty minutes, we’re rolling down Sixth Avenue and making our way toward the Lafayette Grand Café for some brunch.

There, we order more food than we can probably eat on our own. But, what the hell, I need to refuel after all the fucking sex we had last night.

“I’m sorry,” Penny suddenly blurts out, putting her croissant down and looking at me with an anxious expression.

“Don’t. You don’t need to be sorry,” I tell her, reaching across the table and placing my hand on top of hers. “You did the right thing; you told me the truth. Now let it go.” If we were talking about any other woman, you’d never hear these words coming out of my mouth. But, just like I told you, it’s different with Penny. Maybe it’s because she’s my stepdaughter, because she’s family… But, deep down, I know that it has nothing to do with it. It goes way deeper than that.

“Don’t you hate me?” she asks me, and I can’t help but smile at that.

“Why would I hate you, Penny? You’re the best fucking thing that's happened to me,” I tell her without even stopping to think about what I’m saying, and that because the truth doesn’t need to be threaded carefully; it just needs to be set free. Because, fuck it, let’s not pretend here, okay? Penny really is the best fucking thing to happen to me. I don’t even know how to explain it, but ever since our paths crossed, the urge to fuck shit up simply disappeared overnight. I no longer drink my soul away during the night, and I sure as hell don’t feel the urge to go out and fuck as many strippers as I can. What the fuck happened to me, right?

“You don’t want to… end this?”

“No,” I tell her firmly, my heart tightening up as I hear the word end. It doesn’t matter what it costs me, or what I have to do; I won’t allow this (whatever it is) to end because my ex-wife and Laurel Trask are two major bitches that need to get fucking laid. Fuck ‘em. “You’re mine, Penny,” I find myself saying, looking into her eyes as I squeeze her hand in mine.

“We… We’ll need to keep this quiet, though,” she whispers, and I watch her lips move in a fucking trance. Memories of the way we kissed last night, our naked bodies pressed together, flood me at once and I feel my cock twitching inside my pants.

“We’ll keep quiet,” I reply with a nod. “Although you might have to make an effort.” She looks at me with a confused look, and I let my easy smile be replaced by a wicked grin. I place my hand inside the pocket on my jacket and, feeling my fingers brush against a small metallic object, I bring it out and place it on the table.

“What’s that?”

“Something fun.” I place my elbows on the table and lean toward her, my cock so hard right now that I’m actually surprised I haven’t overturned the table. “Does the name Natalie Trask ring a bell?”

“Yeah… she’s Parker Trask’s wife, and she used to run a sex toy company that -- oh!” She bites down on her lip, her eyes widening as she focuses on the small silvery bullet on the table. She reaches for it hesitantly, turning it around her fingers, and then hides it under the table as her cheeks start to redden. “You want me to... put this on?!” She asks, her voice so low that I barely hear her words.

“That’s right. And if you want to keep quiet you’ll really have to make an effort,” I whisper back at her, my hand diving back into my pocket. From there, I take out a small rectangular remote with a few buttons on it. “Because I’m in charge here.”

Her cheeks flush so much that I have to choke down a laugh.

This is going to be fun.