Chapter 48

Chapter 48

Sable

I turned to look at Brant. He was already behind me, staring at me.

“Who is Jessica?” I asked. I just wanted to see what he’d say—who my sister really was to him. But what he said knocked the breath right out of me.

“My first love,” he said.

I expected him to avoid the question, to brush it off with something smug or vague. But no. Instead, he looked me straight in the eyes and said it plainly: she was his first love.

“So… you loved her?” I asked. My voice gave me away, the way it trembled slightly, like I already knew the answer. Like I knew her.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “Do you know her?”

“No,” I said, holding his gaze. Lying.

How I wished I could tell him who she really was to me. That Jessica was my sister. That she was carrying his child when she died—his child who never got the chance to be born.

If Jessica were still alive… their child would have grown by now.

And Brant—I could see it clearly—would’ve made a good father.

He stepped toward me, and I instinctively moved back until my spine pressed against the old tree. The one where he and Jessica had carved their forever.

He leaned in, resting his forehead against mine. His finger slid under my chin, lifting my face gently, tilting my head toward his. Our eyes met, and then his lips touched mine—a soft, unhurried kiss that burned straight through me.

When I kissed him back, I lost myself in everything—his scent, his warmth, the way his skin felt close to mine. I wanted him. Every inch of him. I wanted to drown in the heat of his skin, in the overwhelming need to have all of him.

“Bite me,” he murmured between kisses.

“What?”

“My lips. Bite them,” he said again, against my lips.

So I did.

I caught his lower lip between my teeth and bit down until I tasted the sharp tang of metal—his blood. I sucked it into my mouth, the taste spreading across my tongue. Something about it flooded my head and lit my entire body on fire, sending a dark thrill through my spine. I felt high.

His hand slipped into my jeans, beneath my panties, and I gasped into his mouth as his thumb brushed across my swollen clit—so sensitive it ached. I’d been needing his touch for what felt like forever.

Our lips never parted as I moaned into him, kissing him deeper, hips rocking forward, trying to catch more of his hand. His thumb circled the aching bundle of nerves, rolling it beneath his fingers, sending shockwaves through my body.

“You're going to cum for me, little minx,” he whispered. “I need you to. Or I’ll go crazy.”

“Brant—”

“Cum for me,” he repeated, as he pushed two fingers deep inside me, hitting the perfect spot. His thumb kept circling my clit, faster, harder, the pressure building impossibly fast.

“Keep touching me,” I begged breathlessly. “If you want me to cum for you, don’t stop. Just… keep going.”

“You’re getting tighter,” he growled, pumping his fingers in and out, curling them just right.

“Don’t stop…” I gasped. “Just keep—fuck… fuck…”

My thighs quivered violently, my insides clenching and trembling around his fingers as a powerful orgasm tore through me. My mouth fell open in a wordless cry, my body arching against his. My whole body tensed as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over me. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe—all I could do was feel.

Even after I came, I felt his thumb still moving on my too-sensitive clit, making me twitch and gasp beneath his touch. It never stopped.

I opened my eyes only when I felt his hand pull away. I hadn’t even realized I’d closed them.

His forehead was still pressed to mine as I watched him raise the same hand to his mouth. My bite mark was there. He slowly licked his fingers clean.

“You taste even more incredible than I imagined,” he said, voice low and wrecked.

Then he brought his thumb to my lips. I parted them and tasted myself on him—and somehow, that set something wild loose inside my head.

I sucked his thumb, slow and deep, and in that moment, there was only one thing I knew for certain:

I wanted Brant Paxton for the rest of my life.

His taste.

His voice.

His anger.

His love.

All of it. The need, the chaos, the fire. I wanted every bit of him. Forever.



We returned to the mansion. Yeah, it was already dinner time. After Brant made me cum, we kept riding, exploring more of the property. Nothing else happened. But I could see why he loved the place. It was exactly how he wanted it—quiet, open, empty, and his.
Peaceful in a way that mirrored him when he wasn’t trying to hide behind that smug smile.

As we walked in, Joss stood from his seat and came toward us. He leaned in, pressing his lips softly to my cheek.

“Where did you go? I tried calling your phone but got nothing.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I left my phone in my bedroom.”

Brant had already walked ahead and taken his seat at the table.

“Where did you go?” Rhett asked him, his tone casual but observant, as Joss and I followed. Joss pulled my chair out for me, and I sat down.

“We went out. Must I tell you exactly where?” Brant replied coolly.

“I’m just asking. Though, judging by the horse scent on you, I can already guess,” Rhett said.

Joss looked between Brant and me. I could tell he had something to say, something sitting on the edge of his tongue, but he kept it to himself.

At least, until after dinner.

Later, as I stepped into the shower, I could still feel the burn between my thighs—my clit still sensitive and throbbing from Brant’s touch. The way his fingers moved, the way his voice dropped when he growled in my ear, the way I bit his lower lip until it bled and sucked on it. I tasted him—his blood still on my tongue—and it only turned me on more, deepening the lust thrumming through my body.

And now? I wanted him again. I wanted his hands on me, buried inside me. I wanted to fall apart from his touch, to cum all over his fingers. I wanted that smug smile back, and the heat of his breath on my neck as he made me come again and again.

And maybe, if I was lucky next time, I’d finally feel his cock buried deep inside me, stretching me, filling me, fucking me like he owned every part of me. Because he already does.

The thought alone made me squeeze my thighs together, the images clinging to me like steam on my skin as I finished showering. Brant. Brant. Brant—running through my head.

But when I stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a bathrobe, I gasped.

Joss was sitting on my bed.

He stood the moment he saw me, walking toward me with a strange look in his eyes.

“Sable… I need to ask you something, and I need you to tell me the truth,” Joss said. He sounded serious.

“Sure,” I replied, pulling my bathrobe tighter around me.

“What’s going on between you and Brant? I’m sorry, but… are you two having sex?”

“What?” I blurted, taken aback by the directness.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, “but you two aren’t exactly friends. And for you to follow him out there… that place is deserted.”

“So you’ve already decided in your head that we’re fucking? Is that it?” I snapped. “What do you think I am? A whore? A fucking whore?”

“No—no, that’s not what I meant. I just… I don’t want the same thing to happen again. You don’t understand. You don’t know how Brant and Betty broke me.”

I exhaled hard, trying to rein in the storm inside me.

“Listen… your brother loves you. He would choose you over any woman, any day. He didn’t even know you and Betty were dating. That’s not on him. And me?” I paused, stepping closer. “I’m not a cheater, Joss. If I ever want out of this thing between us, I’ll tell you. Straight up. And yeah, we both know this isn’t exclusive, but I’m not the kind of woman who sleeps with two brothers at the same time.”

He stared at me for a long second, then pulled me into a hug. His arms wrapped tightly around me, and I didn’t pull away.

I stood still in his arms, heart pounding.

I came here for revenge. That was the plan. That was always the plan.

But what the hell am I getting myself into?

Because this… this was starting to feel like something else entirely.

And worst of all… I don’t even know who I’m trying to hurt anymore.