Drake 'The Shark’ Carlton—now there’s a man I haven't thought about in a long time. It’s not every day you get to meet your stepdad, after all. And what a good turn of events that was … He looks better in person than in all the pictures I've seen of him.

Despite being ten years older than me, there’s still a rugged youthfulness to him, and his frame makes him look like he belongs on a football field instead of in a boardroom. He’s much taller than me—taller than I expected—and I had to do a double take before I realized exactly who he was.

It was supposed to be a regular night out—dinner at the 21 Club, and then drinks somewhere else, when he showed up in his tailored suit, looking like he stepped out from a Hollywood set. I had heard about his latest acquisition, and I decided to approach him. His eyes roamed over my body eagerly, and I could tell there and then that he wanted me. I know, I know… he’s my stepdad, and so that’s supposed to be weird; but, hell, I wanted him at least as much as he wanted me. I’m not saying that I want this fantasy to turn into reality, but when you have a man like that in front of you it’s not like you can think rationally, right?

I can’t tell if he was more interested in me or in my company, though, if I’m being perfectly honest. But whatever it was, I agreed to have dinner with him. No, don’t look at me like that; nothing is going to happen between us. I mean, he’s my stepdad, for God’s sake!

I’m still thinking of him when the elevator stops on my floor, and the doors slide open with that old ding. I go for my door, but I have to use both hands to slide the key inside its slit; I guess I’ve had a few too many drinks at 21, and I’m still feeling a bit tipsy.

I’ve just stepped foot inside my apartment, purse slung over one shoulder, when my cell phone starts to ring. I take it out of my back pocket and raise one eyebrow as I see Sloane’s photo and name splashed on the screen.

What the hell’s going on? Seems like today’s Family Day. First I run face to face with stepdad, and now my stepbrother’s calling me? It almost seems like we all get along all of a sudden. Yeah, right.

“And how’s my favorite sister?” Sloane says the moment I pick up his call. I haven’t heard his voice in a while, and I had almost forgot how sexy he sounds when he’s not being an asshole, which is pretty much all the time.

“What do you want, Sloane?” I ask him, throwing my purse on the couch and sitting down by its side.

“That hurts, ‘sis. Can’t a guy call his sister just to see how she’s doing?” he starts, but I can tell by the tone of his voice that he doesn’t care if I see right through his nice guy facade.

“I know you, Sloane. You’re not the kind of guy to make small talk, so let’s have it. Why are you calling me?” I ask him again, but my sixth sense tells me that it has something to do with my company. I guess my success did more than impress the whole world; it impressed my family. And you don’t impress my family easily, that much I can tell you.

“I want us to have lunch,” he says, his voice changing to an all-business, no-bullshit, tone. “I want to discuss your company. Dirty ‘Lil Demons, right?”

“Dirty ‘Lil Angels,” I correct him. “But speak of the Devil,” I chuckle, distractedly playing with one stray lock of blonde hair. “I just ran into Drake, and he wanted to talk about my company as well.”

“Fucking Drake,” Sloane hisses, more to himself than to me. There’s no love lost between these two, that’s for sure. I never really got Sloane’s hateful attitude toward our stepdad, but whatever; it’s not like our family is a close-knit one. After my mom and Sloane divorced, I guess that whatever bond existed between all of us kinda vanished.

“What did he want?” Sloane asks me, and I know he won’t like my reply one bit.

“Well, I actually agreed to have dinner with him to talk about my company, so there’s that.”

“Just tell him to fuck off, will ya? And have lunch with me. I can promise you that having dinner with him won’t be half as interesting as having lunch with me, ‘sis. You can take that to the fucking bank.”

Oh, I seriously doubt that, sweet brother, I think to myself, replaying in my head the way Drake’s eyes seemed to devour my body.

“That’s not really fair, is it? I have to meet Drake; I told him I’d do it. But we can agree on having dinner the next night, what do you think?”

“Fine,” he grunts, still not happy about the fact that I’m having dinner with our stepdad. According to my mom, these two always butted heads for everything, and now I guess they’re butting heads over me. Men, right? “Let me know when and where, and I’ll be there,” he finishes off, and then ends the call without waiting for my reply. I guess some things never change—an asshole once, an asshole always.

That feeling that things are about to change for good creeps in again, and now I become positive about it. Running into Drake, and now Sloane’s call… Something’s definitely afoot, and I’m pretty sure that both my fate and my company’s is intertwined with what's looming on the horizon. Maybe they’re looking to invest, and if that’s the case… Well, with a few million in my pocket it’d be a matter of months until I dominated the whole sex toys industry. Maybe weeks.

But I simply can’t focus on business right now. Although I’m good at crunching numbers, it’s no use if I don’t know what their intentions are. But let’s be real for a second; the real reason I can’t focus on business is because my mind is busy with other things. Other dirty things.

Yeah, one’s my stepdad and the other’s my stepbrother. I read the memo, hun, I’m aware of all that. It’s taboo; it’s sinful, blah, blah, blah. Do you need me to say it again? It’s not like I want it to happen. It’s just fun to think about. And a little fun never hurt anyone, right?

I look at my work table, grab one of the prototype vibrator bullets, and then sink into the couch. What? As far as I know, daydreaming isn’t a sin.