Saving Steffi

BLURB

Steffi Johnson is a force to be reckoned with. That is… until her mind loses the battle against her heart and pussy, and she ends up in a whole lot of trouble.

Steffi loves sex. And adventure. And no-strings-attached fun. She always assumed that one day she’d meet someone who would want to make her become a one-man kind of woman. Or a one-woman kind of woman. Or just a one-person kind of woman. Steffi is pansexual after all, so who cares about gender? She’ll probably meet someone when she’s 30 or something. Old. Ready to settle down.

At 20, Steffi didn’t expect to meet someone who would turn her whole life upside down in both the best and the worst ways. Someone who knows exactly how to calm her racing mind, fuck her into submission, and lull her into a sense of security. Only he’s not who he said he was. Not even a little bit. Not even close.

That’s how Steffi ends up fighting with her parents, and moving out of their house. That’s how she ends up involved with a whole lot of dangerous people. That’s how she ends up losing her heart, her sanity, and maybe even a whole lot more than that.

Is there still a chance to save Steffi from the guy who refuses to let go of her? Is there a chance to save her from herself? And if there is… who will be saving her?

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Trigger warning:

This book contains some content that can be triggering for people who have been through (sexual) abuse. To be people who have been in abusive, malipulative or toxic relationships. And to people who have dealt with rape. All these topics are part of the book.

I promise you a happily ever after, of course, but this book is darker than most of my other books, and the bad things are happening 'in real time' and not just in the character's past, like in most of my books, where the abuse is a triggering memory, not the reality of the present.

Please be mindful of triggers in the comments. Be kind to each other. Feel free to comment with your thoughts, don't hold back, but keep things friendly and keep in mind some people have actually gone through these things in their own lives.

Some chapters have specific trigger warning at the top, so you can always choose to skip those scenes. But if these topics in general are too hard for you, maybe don't read this book. If you are reading, and you feel like a specific chapter needs a trigger warning that I didn't include, just let me know in the comments or in a DM on Insta, and I will add it!

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INFO [chapter 1 starts right after the info]

The Sweet Caroline series consists of many books. All books can be read as stand-alones, but they work best as a series. At the start of each book, I always tell my readers which book would be wise to read first to understand the past of the characters.

The series can be split into two separate series: the first generation & the next generation. The next generation is about characters that were kids in the books about the first generation.

FIRST GENERATION: 1. Sweet Caroline // 2. Slutty Shaughna // 3. Eager Annabel // 4. Feisty Francesca // 5. Twisted Thomas // 6. Chef Quiroz // 7. Caring Christopher // 8. Officer Tyson // 9. Dreamy Dylan

NEXT GENERATION: 1. Blooming Rose // 2. Jealous Jagger // 3. Needy Nia // 4. Guarded Marcus // 5. Charming Creed // 6. Thompson Twins // 7. Playful Pierre // 8. Saving Steffi

You can read this as a stand-alone story, but if you’re going to read my other stories as well, you might want to start with “Sweet Caroline”.

We meet Steffi for the first time in “Eager Annabel” when she’s just a tiny little newborn baby. She continues to pop up in the first generation novels as Aston and Anna’s kid. In the next generation book “Thompson Twins” we see her as a teenager, and in “Playful Pierre” she’s 20 years old. Some chapters of “Playful Pierre” have a little sneak peek into “Saving Steffi”, so part of the timeline of this book will match the end of Pierre’s book.

I would recommend reading at the very least “Playful Pierre” before reading “Saving Steffi”, but it’s up to you! I write all my books as stand-alones, but some stuff might get confusing if you don’t know anything about the other books, and of course you’ll miss the little easter eggs.

Enough info now! Enjoy chapter 1!

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#1 Your daughter, who was conceived by said sausage

The bike revs underneath me, the vibrations making my heart rate speed up and my entire body hum with satisfaction. Damn, it’s fast. Way faster than it should be able to go, which was exactly what Bear, my boss, ordered me to do.

Legal? Of course not.

Damn cool? Hell yeah.

It was one of the many reasons that Bear hired me. I’ve been tinkering with bikes since I was a little girl, and my skill set is far beyond what my dad taught me by now. He knew how to fix minor issues, but that was about it. He’d always take me to Bear’s repair shop, even back when I was still a little girl in pigtails, and I’d play between the cars and bikes while Bear fixed up my dad’s battered old bike and they talked shop.

Shop meant the Maddox gym for my father. He co-owned it with Zeke, who was not only one of his best friends, but also sort of his brother-in-law. I have a large family, but I think only about half of the people I call my blood are actually genetically related to me. That’s what happens when your dad has a half-brother who has a shitload of other half-siblings. Blood doesn’t matter in our family. Love and loyalty do. I call so many people my cousins, aunt and uncles that I sometimes lose track of who is actually related to me and which people are just close friends.

To Bear, talking shop means his repair shop. Bear’s Bikes and Cars. Simple name, not so simple job. I’m actually pretty damn sure that most of the things we do aren’t completely legal. I’m not allowed to use the cash register, for example. We give all customers hand-written statements about what we did for them, and we definitely don’t put on there that I usually take apart the damn thing to put in an engine that is way too strong for the vehicle. Or that I manipulate the original engine, or even put in a secret compartment or something that I honestly don’t even want to know what the owner uses it for. Can’t be groceries, right?

I learned a long time ago not to ask any questions. Bear is good to me, and my poor old dad has no idea that not everything I do for Bear is on the up and up. When my dad comes in, we do use the register, just like we do for some of our other customers who don’t quite seem to grasp that not everything we earn is reported to the IRS. My dad is a bit of a badass, but aside from occasionally smoking weed, he never does anything illegal as far as I know. The guy is a painter aside from owning a gym, for crying out loud. And when I say painter, I mean a goddamn artist. He’s rough on the edges, but a little softie on the inside.

Just like me.

Although I might be a bit rough on the inside as well.

As I finish the test drive for the bike I’ve been working on all day, I find myself wishing I could keep driving. I love the open roads, the speed, the feeling of freedom. From the first time that I got on the back of my dad’s motorcycle, I fell in love. Not with my dad, obviously, that would be damn gross, but with the bike. I’ve got my own one, and I love the damn thing, but I’m already saving up for a new one. I’d love something bigger, stronger, more bad-ass.

“So?” Bear asks when I walk back in, wiping his oil-stained hands on a rag.

“Purrs like an angel,” I assure him, parking the bike in the back of the garage. “Should I even try to convince you to give it to me as a gift for all my hard work the past years?”

He grins, showing his crooked teeth. “I don’t think so, Shorty. I added a little bonus to your paycheck this month. Should be enough to stop you from asking me to give you shit.”

“Nothing is ever enough for that.” I run my hand over the bike, hating that I need to part with it soon. “Got a buyer lined up already?”

“Yeah, Zeus will come pick it up later this week. We’re buying his old bike off him as well. Your next little side project will be fixing it up so we can sell it with a profit.”

I rejoice on the inside, but stay cool and collected on the outside. “Sweet. Anything left for me to do?”

“Nah, you stayed late already. Go do whatever you do when you’re not here.”

I throw Bear a teasing look. “I really don’t think you want to know.”

“I want to know,” a deep voice says from behind me.

I turn to see Dice coming out from behind a large truck, his overalls dirty as hell, and his long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. He’s only three years older than I am, but he always pretends he’s so much smarter, bigger, and better. Yeah, okay, he’s bigger – they don’t call me Shorty for no reason – but he’s definitely not smarter or better. I made the mistake of blowing him in an alley one time when I was drunk as a fucking skunk and horny as hell, and ever since he thinks he’s the shit. Asshole couldn’t even get me off as he awkwardly fingered me below my skirt, so I’m not sure why he’s so proud of that night. I’m sure as hell not. It’s not that I’m embarrassed about it either – that stuff happens when you down too many shots of tequila.

“Well, I’ve got a hot date planned with a girl I met in the club last night,” I tell Dice, knowing it will make him imagine what we’ll be up to all fucking night. He’ll probably jerk off to those images when he’s alone. Motherfucker doesn’t get much action, after all. I sometimes wonder if the reason he came after only three bobs of my head was that he hadn’t been touched in forever. Makes me kind of sad for him. When I don’t get any in over a week, I turn into a right shrew.

“Hot date?” Dice repeats, grunting.

“Okay, maybe not a date.” I smile sweetly. “More like I’m going over to her place.”

“For what?” he asks, running his hand over his short black beard.

“I think you know what.” I love teasing him. “I bet she knows how to get me off.”

Dice bristles at the memory of him not being able to that one night, and he cuts a look at Bear. We’re not allowed to have romance on the work floor. Bear doesn’t want that shit interfering with work, so he doesn’t know we hooked up about six months ago. That’s why it’s so much fun taking the piss at Dice. He can’t say anything in front of Bear, not even when I say shit like that.

“Don’t wanna know about any of this, Shorty,” Bear grumbles when Dice remains silent. “Just go.”

I go over to give my boss a hug goodbye. He may be a 6 foot 9 badass with a shitload of tattoos, but he’s nicknamed Bear for good reason. Cuddle fellow, really. True teddy bear. He ruffles my hair affectionately and then sends me on my way.

Before heading over to my date’s place I drive home first, speeding a little as I always do. I just love the freedom of being on my bike. My own poor thing can’t hold a candle to the beauty I worked on today, but she’s mine. I give Stiletto – yeah, I named my bike, of course I did – a little pat after parking her in the garage at my Mom and Dad’s place.

I still live at home, because it’s just so damn easy. I get along great with both of my parents, especially my dad. Living here is like living in a hotel. My laundry gets done, I never have to help out with any of the housework since they have a maid who comes in two times a week and my parents do everything else, and I’ve basically been spoiled rotten my whole damn life. I’m not a little princess or anything, but especially dad has never been able to tell me no. Why move out when I am comfortable here and I can save up this way?

“Hey honey,” my mother says as I walk in. She’s still in her work clothes, and they couldn’t be more different from mine. When I work in my dad’s gym, I wear the uniform he and Zeke have for all their employees: black work-out gear with the logo of the gym on it. And when I work at Bear’s, I’m in comfortable clothes and overalls. Mom, however, goes to work wearing pumps, a pencil skirt, a crisp blouse, and makeup that looks both feminine and professional, somehow. She owns her own law firm, and she’s a kickass lawyer. Sometimes it baffles me that she and Dad ever got together. When she’s in her lawyer clothes, she looks so classy and high-end. Dad is the complete opposite.

Like he wants to prove my point, my father comes staggering into the kitchen through the backdoor, wearing nothing but sweatpants, a few smears of paint on his broad chest. He must have been in his art studio. My mom hasn’t spotted him yet, so he winks at me and sneaks up behind Mom, grabbing her ass with both hands.

“Aston!” she shrieks, spinning around to face him.

“Yeah baby, scream my name,” he teases, giving her a hungry kiss. “What’s for dinner?”

“I thought you were cooking today.” She sighs when she realizes he probably hasn’t even been to the story for groceries. “Aston, we had a deal. On Mondays and Thursdays, you take care of dinner.”

“I’ve got a sausage you could eat,” he grunts.

“Oh my God, hello, I’m still standing here!” I wave my arms above my head. “Your daughter, who was conceived by said sausage, but who really doesn’t want to hear about it.”

Mom looks appalled, smacking my dad’s arm when he tries to pull her against him. Dad, however, doesn’t give a flying fuck. He never has. Like I said, it’s a mystery how they ever fell in love. They work together in ways that shouldn’t make sense, but somehow do.

Mom and Dad’s stories about how they met and ended up together are very different. According to Mom, they met through a mutual friend, he agreed to be her date for a work event, and they started dating. They got serious after a while, she got pregnant, and he proposed to her.

When you ask my dad, he says she basically blackmailed someone to find her a date, they hit it off instantly, felt each other up in the cab to the party, they had casual sex for a long time before either of them confessed they wanted more, and then he accidentally knocked her up with me.

Which story do I believe? Dad’s version, obviously. I’ve heard enough rumors about the start of their relationship to suspect that there was some drama involved there. Mom enjoying some no-strings-attached fun with the player my dad apparently was back in the day and then ending up head over heels in love with him makes way more sense than the two of them dating in a more normal way. Those two aren’t normal. Nothing about them is.

As they bicker about who should be making dinner, I go upstairs to shower and get ready for my date. I’ll grab a bite to eat with my parents first, but after then I’m out for the night. I don’t think I’ll be home until tomorrow morning. Definitely not planning on it.

When I get back down, neither of them have made dinner. There is, however, a button missing on Mom’s blouse, and my dad has a dopey look on his face. Ew. I so don’t want to know what they’ve been doing while I was showering.

“We ordered pizza,” Mom tells me, sitting down at the dining table with her laptop. “I need to reply to a few emails before dinner arrives.”

My dad is eying my outfit, not looking pleased. “Where are you heading wearing lingerie like it’s an entire outfit?”

I roll my eyes. “It’s a corset top, Dad, not lingerie. And since when is a skirt underwear?”

“It is when it’s so short I can see your damn underwear.”

“You’re exaggerating.” He really is. My skirt reaches to mid-thigh, and my corset top does push up my boobs and leaves part of my stomach bare so I’m showing off my belly button piercing, but it’s not like I’m going out in a bra or anything. Everything is covered up.

Mom looks up from her laptop, frowning as well. “You’re putting a sweater over that, right?”

“Yes, of course,” I lie, since it’s easier.

Dad doesn’t buy it for even a second. “Who are you hanging out with tonight?”

“You don’t know her.”

He relaxes a little when I say her. My parents are very cool about me being pansexual – I think Dad actually prefers it over me being straight. I seem to have a preference for women over men, and I think it makes him worry less about me being safe. He doesn’t trust men, which makes me wonder what he was like when he was my age. I’ve heard stories, of course, but it’s hard to imagine him with anyone other than my mother. He flirts with other women sometimes, which weirdly doesn’t seem to bother my mother, but she’s the only one he looks at like she’s an angel sent down from heaven. I wonder if the reason he doesn’t trust men around me is because he’s a man and he knows the way his brain worked when he was younger?

“Are we going to meet her soon?” Mom asks, her fingers flying over the keyboard.

“It’s not serious, so no, probably not.”

“Be safe,” Dad warns me.

I’m not sure if he means that I shouldn’t get abducted or anything, or to use protection against STDs. Knowing him, probably both. To appease him, I grab my phone and text him the address of my date. He nods his thanks.

We’ve been doing this since I was 16 and I didn’t come home for an entire night without picking up my phone because the battery had died. He knew even back then he couldn’t control me, and he never tried to. But he did want to make sure I was safe, so we decided that I’d always let him know where I was and whether I’d be home or not. If I didn’t show up or pick up my phone when I said I’d be back, he would come to the address I’d given him. He’d only had to do that one time, when I’d fucked up when I was 18 and I’d let my phone die again and I couldn’t find my car keys anywhere.

He’d been fucking murderous, ready to kill whoever I was with at that time, but when I told him what had happened and he realized I’d just zonked out on the couch after a rowdy party, he’d calmed down, helped me find my keys, and followed me home. He’d been upset with me for allowing my phone to die and not knowing where my keys were, but that was it. He hadn’t given me much grief for it. My mom had been in tears by the time I finally got home, and we’d gotten into a huge fight. If it hadn’t been for my dad, she would probably still be crying and shouting by now, two years after the fact.

I’ve never met anyone who has the kind of bond with their father that I do. Literally no one I know would text their dad the address of the person they’re having casual sex with. I trust him, though. I know he’d never show up unless he was afraid I was in any kind of danger. It’s strangely nice to know someone has your back like that.

After eating pizza with my parents, I finally head to Cassandra’s place, eager for some action. It’s been a couple of days since I got any. Well, okay, I kissed her in the club last night, but that was all PG stuff. Over the clothes. I’m in desperate need of an orgasm that I don’t need to provide for myself.

Cassandra opens the door of her dorm with a shy smile on her face, her eyes moving over me eagerly. She’s the perfect mixture of nervous and horny, just the way I like it. I have a thing for girls who don’t have too much experience yet, teaching them exactly what they need to do in order to please me, and showing them just how good they themselves can feel.

“You look really good,” she says, biting her lip.

I take in her blue skinny jeans and see-through green blouse that shows off the lacy black bra underneath. My mouth is already watering. “So do you.”

Turns out Cassandra has three roommates who she shares a small living room and kitchen with, but she does have her own little shoebox of a bedroom. She anxiously introduces me to her roommates, wringing her hands together. She told me last night she only came out a couple of weeks ago, and her roommates seem awfully interested in me, so I’m guessing she hasn’t had any other girls over yet. I put my arm around Cassandra while I chat to the three of them easily. It’s not like I’m on trial or anything. I’m not here for a job interview to become her first girlfriend. I’m just here for some hot sex, and her roommates don’t need to like me in order for me to score tonight.

“Shall we head to your room?” I ask Cassandra, grabbing her ass and squeezing.

She yelps, her cheeks heating up. “O…okay.”

I shut the door firmly behind us, locking it. She gulps, looking a little unsure.

“You have done this before, right?” I check. She’s 21 after all, and she didn’t seem this nervous last night. She may have only come out of the closet recently, but I’m guessing she’s been with girls before.

“I don’t… not really,” she admits. “I mean, I’ve kissed some girls before, felt them up a bit, but I’ve never…”

Oh boy, I’ve got another virgin on my hands. That excites me even more. I really don’t mind the lack of experience, although it’s nice to sometimes be with someone who knows exactly how to drive me wild, instead of me taking the lead. In general, I somehow always find myself attracted to innocent, untouched girls.

“That’s okay,” I assure her, moving over so I can tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, my lingers lingering on her flushed skin. “You do know why I came over, right? It’s okay if you changed your mind, I can totally leave or only stay for some over-the-clothes action like last night, but I just want to be clear. I came here tonight hoping to have some hot sex.”

She’s as red as a tomato by now, but she meets my gaze head-on. “I didn’t change my mind, and you were pretty clear about your intentions when we made plans to see each other again.”

“Good. Then why aren’t we kissing yet?”

I wait for her to make the first move, not wanting to push her. After a brief moment, she takes my face in her hands and presses her lips to mine. Just like last night, sparks fly between us, and I’m pretty sure it’s not just me who’s already getting wet as we press our bodies together.

Oh yes, this night will definitely end up the way I was hoping it would.

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