“Scotch. Beer. Both are great.” I pause for a moment. “I’m not really a fan of wine, though.”

“What?” she snaps. Her brow furrows as she stares at me, confused.

“I’m telling you my drink preferences if you want to thank me for saving you,” I patiently explain

“Are you serious?” She laughs.

“Deadly. I’ve always thought it tasted a bit like armpits,” I muse, looking at her thoughtfully. “Wine, I mean. I assume that’s what has you so outraged?”

“Or maybe I’m outraged because you couldn’t mind your own business and leave me alone?” she suggests. “Also, are you in the habit of licking armpits?”

“Not since the restraining orders kicked in,” I quip.

I smirk at her stony expression. Really? Not even a smile?

“Are you really annoyed because I tried to help you?” I ask.

“I’m annoyed because I had that under control. I’d have kicked the shit out of him if he tried anything,” she explains. “But instead, you swooped in like a fucking hero and now he’s probably hiding around the corner, waiting for you to leave.”

“I think you’d struggle to kick the shit out of a penguin.” I chuckle. She blinks at me and I frown. “Not that I condone violence against—hey,” I gasp.

Out of nowhere, she’s swept my feet from beneath me, tackled me to the ground bending one arm behind my back so hard that I’m doing my best not to squeal like a girl.

“Seven years martial arts,” she whispers in my ear. I wince when she bites down on the lobe. “Now you wanna tell me how much I need rescuing?” she taunts.

I break out of her hold and roll over, so she’s straddling me. She narrows her eyes as I place my hands on her ass and smirk up at her.

“There’s nothing sexier than a chick with balls,” I tease her.

She rolls her eyes as she firmly removes my hands and stands up. I accept her hand when she extends it to me, then I get to my feet.

“Okay. You’ve got skills,” I agree. “But what if he’d have followed you inside and caught you off guard.” I pause. “Or worse. What if he had a gun?”

She frowns at me, a flicker of fear passing through her eyes.

“Fine. Thank you so much for swooping in to save me.” She raises her eyebrows at me. “Did that satisfy your ego there, tiger?”

“Not quite,” I call out after her.

She laughs and walks inside, slamming the door behind her—just in case I had any ideas of following her. I shake my head and grin. Wow. I had no idea she was so tough. It’s kind of turning me on just thinking about how quickly she had me pinned like that.

I knew the moment I met Darcy that she was one of those chicks. You know the type I’m talking about. The kind who think they can get themselves out of any situation because they’re independent and strong.

Sure, being able to protect yourself is fine. The thing is, that’s not going to help if the guy, pinning you against the wall, has a hundred pounds on you. Especially when you’ve got it in your head that you’re invincible. I know she would’ve dropped that wiry little creep, in two seconds flat, but next time she might not be so lucky. And eventually, she’s going to find herself in a situation where there’s nobody around to rescue her. I turn around when I hear a noise, then I look a little closer at the bushes beneath the living room window.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

I laugh, because, Darcy was right. He’s fucking hiding there, waiting for me to leave.

“Hey,” I yell out.

His eyes widen when I start to jog towards him. He stands up, losing his balance and toppling backward, straight back into the bushes. He falls on his ass, just in time for me to reach down to grab a handful of his shirt and haul him to his feet. I give him the nastiest glare I can muster up, then I shove him backward.

“Did I not tell you to get lost?” I growl, curling my lip.

“Yes … I uh, I was ….”

He stumbles through a few words, before giving up completely.

“You were what?” I repeat. “Crouching behind the bushes, waiting for me to leave so you could have another go?”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I was but I changed my mind. I promise.”

“Because you saw her flatten me?” I hide my smirk. Maybe she can look after herself. “Just get the fuck out of here. Now.

He nods and races off, taking cover in a car that’s parked a few houses down. I wait for him to drive off, but he doesn’t. He’s just sitting there, doing God knows what, other than pissing me the hell off. What do I have to do to get through to this dick?

When I start walking toward his car, he finally speeds off. I frown, not convinced he’s really gotten the message. Which means I’m going to have to make him get it. Darcy might irritate the fuck out of me, but that doesn’t mean I want to see her get hurt.

I jog over to my car, jump in and buckle up, then I reverse out of the driveway. I slam my foot down on the accelerator, just in time to see him turn left into traffic. I follow him, keeping back enough that he’s not going to figure out I’m behind him.

After around twenty minutes of congested, stop start LA traffic, he turns into a leafy suburban street on the outskirts of the city. I slow down and watch as he slowly pulls into the driveway. I shake my head because this guy is an even bigger cock than I first thought.

I might be jumping to conclusions, but the children’s shoes littering the front porch are making me strongly suspect this dude is married. That and also the heavily pregnant chick he’s now kissing at the front door.

This is going to be fun.

I get out of the car, lift my fingers to my mouth and whistle.

“Hey,” I call out, waving at him. “Long time so see!”

He spins around. His eyes widen when he sees me, the look on his face fucking hilarious. I chuckle because I’ve never seen a person move so fast.

“What are you doing here,” he hisses when he reaches me, glancing back at his curious wife, girlfriend, or whatever the hell she is.

“At your house, you mean?” I shrug and lean against my car. “I dunno. I just thought I’d say hi to your wife, and maybe let her know what a dickwad you are?” I wink at him, my mouth lifting into a grin. “I’m guessing this isn’t baby number one?”

“Look, I’m sorry but she placed the ad,” he says, his voice desperate. “All I did was answer it. Shouldn’t you be having this conversation with her?”

“No, you sick fuck. You showed up unwanted, on my stepsister’s doorstep and then didn’t taking the hint to leave,” I remind him. “Twice, I might add. And now it turns out you’re married?” I laugh. “A real fucking class act.” I pause. “What ad are you talking about?”

“You haven’t seen it?”

He smirks, obviously enjoying that he knows something I don’t. I shift impatiently while he pulls his phone from his pocket. He glances over his shoulder to make sure his wife isn’t still standing there, then he hands me his phone.

“This.”

He shoves his phone into my hands. I stare at it in disbelief.

No fucking way.

“What in the ever-loving fuck?” I mutter, shaking my head.

Darcy placed this ad? No, this has to be a joke. She’s more vanilla than a sugar cookie. There’s no way in hell she’s into any of this.

“So, you said she’s your stepsister, huh?” I glare at him as he grins like we’re suddenly bros. “Have you two ever …”

I toss the phone back to him and then do what I came here to do. I stare him down until he backs up a few steps.

“What the fuck did you just ask me?” I snarl, getting so close to his face that his pupils expand in fear.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“If I ever see you anywhere near anyone in my family again, I’ll come right over here and have a nice little chat with your wife,” I say, cutting him off. “Right before she drags me upstairs, so she can see what a real cock looks like.”

I narrow my eyes at him then I step even closer to him. I clench my jaw, knowing full well when I do that the little vein in my neck pops out, making me look way angrier than I really am. Not that I really need it, since I’m pretty fucking pissed.

“Then after that? I’ll slice off your dick.” I grin at him. “Just to make sure you got the message.”

“Message received,” he mutters his face pale. “Trust me.”

I’m still laughing to myself when I pull into the parking lot of my apartment building half an hour later. Now I’m at least confident that creep won’t be bothering her again. My amusement quickly fades, along with my good mood, when I reach my parking spot.

“Fuck,” I growl. “Again?”

The chick, who owns the spot next to mine, has a habit of parking so close to the line we share, that I can’t fit because the other side of me is the wall. I’ve never met her, but I know it’s a chick from the extensive teddy bear display she has going on along her back window.

Better not let Darcy know or she won’t be able to control herself.

I chuckle and get out of the car, leaving it in neutral. What the fuck is Darcy doing placing ads like that? If she’s that desperate for some kink, all she has to do is ask me. I walk around to the rear of my car and lean my back against it then I push. It’s easier than I thought to roll it into my space, and I somehow manage to do it without hitting her car—not that she wouldn’t have deserved it.

I survey my work, including the millimeter gap I’ve left between the two cars and nod, proud of myself for achieving what I thought was near impossible. With any luck, making her think twice about being such a selfish bitch.

While I wait for the painfully slow elevator, I dig out my phone because I need to see that ad again, this time without some crazy idiot breathing down my neck. I grin because it’s just as amusing the second time around.

I’m the girl who likes the cock in the back hole. In fact, I’ll take it anywhere you want to put it. I’m into BDSM, voyeurism, and I’ll try anything twice.

There’s also nothing sexier than a guy channeling his inner animal and taking me up the ass while dressed as one. You choose which one—I’m easy ;)

Call, text, or email me and remember… the dirtier the better.

Pics are also welcome because I’m a very visual person.

Fuck me. I shake my head, the smile not leaving my face. Imagine her face when she saw that—assuming she isn’t the one who posted it. Or when that first reply came in. God, what I would have paid to have seen that.

The elevator doors open, I look up and step in. When the elevator finally gets to my floor, I get out and walk down the empty hallway to my apartment. I bang loudly on the door of my neighbor as I pass it. I look back when the door swings open and Lewis pokes his head out. He grins at me.

“You coming in? After you made me go to the trouble of answering, you better be,” he warns.

“What? You mean I finally got you off that lazy ass of yours?” I grin.

He opens the door wider, wheeling his chair back far enough for me to squeeze in, then he closes the door and wheels down to the kitchen. I follow, still chuckling over my little play on words back there. I lean against the counter as he opens the fridge, grabbing two sodas. He tosses me one and I flick it open, then take a mouthful.

“You’re so quick with the one-liners.” He grins over his shoulder at me. “Forget property development, Cammy. Your calling was to become a clown.”

“A clown?”

I ignore the fact that he called me Cammy, which he knows I fucking hate with a passion. It makes me feel like a perky blonde cheerleader, which I definitely am not. Aside from the fact that I’m the type of guy you’d find on the football field, kicking the winning goal, I couldn’t cheer to save my life.

“Yes. You’d be a hit at kid’s birthday parties.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” I chuckle.

“I’m being serious,” Lewis says.

He wheels over into the living area and hoists himself off his seat and into an armchair. I watch with admiration. The strength he must have in his upper body amazes me.

“Didn’t you hear? Bitter, deadpan clowns are a hit with those hipster, emo type kids.”

“I’m sure they are.” I grin. “But I’ll stick to what I know if it’s all the same to you.”

“Really?” He grins. “I thought you didn’t really know much of anything.”

“Fucking hilarious,” I say.

I started working at Pearson Property Development fresh out of college, five years ago. My first second year I brought the highest level of profit into the company in their forty-six-year history. By the end of my fourth year working there, I’d moved up to the second highest role, with only the CEO above me. The idea of them moving the head office to New York was developed around one deciding factor; that they’d keep the LA office as a second location and I’d be the one running it. At only twenty-seven, it was a pretty impressive accomplishment on my part.

The transition was supposed to have been a smooth one, but it had been anything but. Relocating everything from the office here, to New York had gone to plan, but getting LA ready for operation had run into delay after delay.

I love what I do, I’m damn good at it and I know the market better than anyone. I'm also great at negotiating, which means I get the best deal, every time. But most of all, I’m charming, which means I don’t just win, I do it in a manner that leaves everyone feeling like a winner.

I raise my eyebrows at Lewis. Three in the afternoon and he’s still wearing a T-shirt and boxer shorts?

“Hey, quit making me feel bad,” he protests, glancing down at his attire. “I’m on vacation, remember?”

“Let me guess, you’ve just been sitting around playing Xbox all day?” I chuckle and nod at his legs. “Watch yourself with all that sitting down. They’ll fall off.”

“Many paraplegics would take offense to a comment like that,” he informs me, but his eyes are sparkling as he says it. “You’re lucky I find your fucked-up sense of humor amusing.”

“You’re having a great time, aren’t you?” I clear away enough empty pizza boxes so I can sit down. “You’re not going to want to go back to work at all.”

“Trust me, I am,” he groans. “And it’s only day three. How the hell am I going to handle this for two weeks?”

Lewis had arranged two weeks off his very high pressure, demanding job as a stockbroker, to go on some family vacation his mom pressured him into. However, at the last minute, his dad broke both legs after falling off the roof. He’d decided on the morning they were supposed to leave for vacation, was the perfect day to clean the gutters, which hadn’t been touched in almost twelve years. Lewis found it hilarious that both he and his Dad were in wheelchairs, right up to the point where his boss said Lewis couldn’t cancel his leave.

“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” I assure him. “It’s good to see you’re taking it easy for once.”

“Yeah, the last time I took this long off work was after the accident,” he admits.

A wistful look crosses his eyes as we both just sit there in silence. It feels like so long ago, but it’s only been two years. We’d been at the beach with a group of friends, drinking and having fun, when Lewis and a few of the guys decided to jump off a cliff. Lewis jumped too far to the right and landed on a rocky embankment. Watching his body slide into the rough water was the scariest moment of my life.

When he didn’t surface, I did the only thing I could think of; I dove into that water and kept searching until I found him. He was unconscious, so I dragged him onto the sand and did what I could to revive him. I’d never been so relieved when he spluttered up a mouthful of water. Then he looked up at me and said:

“The lengths you’ll go just to make out with me.”

We both thought that by some miracle, he’d managed to scrape through unharmed—then he realized he couldn’t feel his legs. After a month in the hospital, then another three in rehab until he was back home, but he was paralyzed from the waist down. It was a hard blow for someone who had just been hand selected for the national hockey team.

Lewis living next door to me isn’t an accident. I wanted him to know he always has support, if he ever needs it, but he could still keep his independence. Not that he’d ever ask for help, because he’s the most stubborn bastard I’ve ever met.

“So, what have you been up to?” he asks, dragging me out of my daydream.

“Oh, you know. The usual.” I grin at him. “Chasing perverts away from my stepsister. Well, soon to be stepsister,” I correct myself.

“Ah, the stepsister,” Lewis murmurs. “She’s pretty hot, huh?”

One look at that smirk and I narrow my eyes. I don’t like where this is headed one bit.

“She’s okay,” I answer as casually as I can.

“Come on, man. She’s more than okay.” Lewis chuckles.

I sigh because it’s true.

If there’s one thing I can say about Darcy, it’s that she’s sexy as hell. I pretend I don’t know much about her, or that I don’t care, but when my father proposed to her mom, I was curious about her. Over the course of a few weeks, I learned a lot about my future stepsister and one of my biggest problems with her is that she just doesn’t realize how attractive she is. She does these stupid little things for a laugh that are one day going to backfire on her and she’s gonna end up seriously hurt.

“Okay,” Lewis says slowly. He grins because he knows this is going to be juicy. “Why did the guy need chasing? You can’t tell me that and not tell me the rest?”

“He was hassling Darcy,” I admit. “She placed some stupid ad and he thought he’d turn up and ‘register’ his interest in person.”

“What … with no contact?” he laughs. “Who the hell does that?” Lewis chuckles. “Fuck, even you wouldn’t do that.”

“Of course I wouldn’t,” I scoff.

I’m offended he’s even suggesting it. I mean, there was that time I flew to Spain to chase that chick I met outside the airport, but that’s completely different.

“I’m too much of a gentleman.”

I grin at Lewis as he rolls his eyes.

“So?” He presses. “What happened?”

I shrug and lean back against the couch, resting my hands behind my head.

“I had to follow him back to his place.” I chuckle. “Where I discovered he was married with a few kids.”

“Are you kidding me?” he says, laughing. “You are, aren’t you? You’re feeling sorry for the poor guy in a wheelchair and inventing some stories.”

“Trust me, even I couldn’t think this shit up.”

I find the ad again, then hand my phone to Lewis.

“Here. Check this out.”

He laughs then glances up at me.

“This has been a joke, right?” he asks. “She wouldn’t place this.”

I smirk. “I’m pretty confident she’s is not responsible for this.”

“Still…” He glances at me, a glint in his eyes. “Hey, do you want to send me the link for the ad?”

“Fuck off,” I say as he chortles to himself.

“Why not?” he reasons. “I’ll do anything twice is very tempting … I can think of a thing or two she can do for me.” He nods at me. “Hey, too bad I didn’t lose a leg in the accident, huh? I hear pegging is quite the rage these days.”

“You’re a sick son of a bitch.” I chuckle.

“The real reason you don’t want me emailing her is because you want her all to yourself,” he teases. “Admit it, man.”

“Fuck off.” I laugh. “She’s about to become family,” I remind him.

“So?” He snorts. “Stop being such a pussy and reply.” He laughs suddenly. “Man, imagine if you did and she didn’t know it was you. She’d freak out, huh?”

She’d be so fucking annoyed …

The more I think about it, the more I like the idea. It’s a terribly bad idea, which is probably why I find it so appealing. I drink down the last of my drink, then toss the can in the trash.

“Okay, I better get home.” I grab my phone on my way past him.

“So you can whack off while thinking about your sister?” he calls out.

“Stepsister,” I correct, opening the door. I wink at him. “And at least mine works.”

“Hey! Mine works too,” he yells after me. “Fucking get back here and I’ll prove it.”

I walk into the kitchen and throw a frozen pizza in the oven, which I’ll call dinner later. Lewis’ mom insists on stocking up my freezer with shit like this, mainly because she can’t cook. I guess it’s her way of thanking me for watching out for Lewis, but it’s completely unnecessary. He’s my friend. Of course, I’m going to help him when he needs it. Unless it involves my stepsister.

I grab a drink from the fridge and head out onto my balcony. I sit down and stare at the ad again on my phone. I chuckle, because it’s still funny, even though I’m pretty sure it’s fake. I just can’t see her writing something like this up.

Then again …

Maybe it’s an opportunity to show Darcy how quickly things can go wrong. It’s better she learns that lesson from me, rather than some other creep, right? I rub my jaw. It would be really cruel to reply, not that it’s ever stopped me before.

I click reply and think of what to say. If I were her, I’d be deleting everything, without even reading it, so I need something that’s going to stand out. Something that will catch her attention and make her want to reply. I smile when an idea springs to mind.

Fucking perfect.

Subject: What’s orange and sounds like a parrot?

In the body of the email, I write one, single line.

Want the answer? Text me.

I leave my number and press send, then I sit back with my hands clasped behind my head. I’m pretty proud of myself. What chick can resist a good joke? I glance down at my phone down when it buzzes, and I smile. Faster than I expected but I’ll take it. My good mood fizzles when I see my father’s name. I click on the text.

Dad: I thought we could catch up before you start back at work. Breakfast tomorrow like old times?

Like old times?

That’s fucking rich coming from him. I sigh, remembering that I promised Mom I’d try. For Mack’s sake, at least. I stand up, shoving my phone in my pocket, then I stomp down to my room. I am trying.

I’m trying every day.

Me: Sure. I’ll come over in the morning.