Chapter 5

Brant

I couldn’t believe those words had come out of her perfect, kissable lips. She was going to make me fall in love with her—and honestly, just the thought of that blowjob? I could already picture her mouth wrapped around my cock, her hand working me in rhythm. That image alone was enough to mess with my head.

What made her think I could fall in love with her? The last time I fell in love didn’t end well, and that was… more than a decade ago? Or less? I couldn’t even remember anymore. I’d buried the timeline along with the feelings.

“What are you thinking about?” Leslie’s lips brushed my ear as she bit it—and fuck, that turned me on. She knew exactly what she was doing.

I’d come back to the club right after that little tête-à-tête with Miss Cupid. Leslie had caught the frown on my face and offered one of her famously bad massages. Yeah, Leslie’s massages hurt like hell, leave your muscles aching—but I love them. They break you down just enough to feel alive again—and that’s exactly what I needed.

I was lying flat on my stomach, the sheets warm beneath my skin, when I rolled over. The mattress dipped slightly beneath me, cradling the full weight of my naked body.

Leslie hovered over me, her eyes dark and daring, guiding her slick pussy onto my cock and exhaling a shaky breath as she sank down, straddling me. Her hands dragged across my chest, nails scratching lightly, drawing lines of fire across my skin. She began to ride me—slow, fluid, sinuous at first—like she had all the time in the world. The sensation made my back arch and my hands reach for her instinctively, gripping her hips, grounding myself in her rhythm.

But even as her body moved with mine, she wasn’t the one in my head. Miss Cupid kept slipping into every thought—her damn voice, her damn silver-blue eyes. The way she’d said it—like a threat, like a prophecy: I will make you fall in love with me.

The thought struck deep, twisting the pleasure with confusion and heat. Leslie must’ve felt the shift in me.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Leslie whispered, her voice thick, her lips brushing mine before she kissed me—hard. Hungry, messy, wet. Her tongue explored my mouth in that sloppy, desperate way, then pulled back just enough to look at me.

I didn’t answer with words right away. My fingers found her pierced nipples, played with the rings, tugged gently, then circled—watching her unravel. She gasped, her back arching, mouth falling open.

“My brother got a personal attendant,” I finally said, breathless.

“Why the fuck does he need a personal attendant? Don’t tell me it’s just for show—for the fucking humans,” she moaned, tossing her maroon hair back, riding me harder.

“It has to be,” I groaned, lost in the friction, in the way her body gripped mine so perfectly. I held her tighter, sat up, and she wrapped her legs around my waist. We were flush together now.

“We only met yesterday... but she already told me she was going to make me fall in love with her. Can you imagine that?” I hissed the words into her ear.

Leslie froze for a heartbeat—surprised. Then something dangerous and electric flickered in her gaze. She started grinding harder, faster, her breath hitching as she teetered on the edge of orgasm.

“You don’t say…”

And then we lost words. I crushed my mouth to hers—our kiss violent and wild, tongues tangling in desperation. She pushed me back and I let myself fall. Her moan shook through me as she rode me harder, chasing the end like she had something to prove. I met her thrust for thrust until the pressure exploded between us in a hot, pulsing climax. She trembled as she came, walls clenching tight, and I followed—buried deep, breathless, undone.

She collapsed beside me, slick with sweat, her heart pounding against my arm as we lay tangled in the sheets, breathing like we’d just survived something.

“Why don’t you teach her a lesson?”

“What do you suggest?” I asked.

“I think I have an idea… tomorrow.”

“I’ve got a fucking race with that son of a bitch.”

I can’t miss it. Lucas and I—we’ve always been competitive. But this time? This is personal. Ever since my cock was the first to touch his lady’s pussy, he’s made it personal. Why the hell did he even set that bet if he really liked her? Sometimes I don’t get how he thinks. But I’m not backing down. If he wants a war, he’s got one. I’m all in.

“You won’t miss it,” Leslie said with a wicked grin.

***

Sable

I passed through Joss's open door. He saw me and called out, “Sable…”

I stepped into his bedroom. He was organizing some documents on his study table, his laptop open in front of him. He might be the only adult I know who keeps a study table in his bedroom. He wore a simple blue button-up shirt and a pair of shorts.

“Do you need something?” I asked. “You can ask anything… I just finished giving Rhett his exercises. He’s in his bedroom now.”

After giving Rhett a very hands-on, so-called “sensual” leg massage, he still barely noticed me. And by sensual, I mean my hands were gliding over his thighs—dangerously close to places that should’ve gotten a reaction. Is the guy a robot? I’m pretty sure he hasn’t had sex in a month or more. You’d think that, even if he wasn’t married, he’d at least have a girlfriend—or at the very least, someone he was sleeping with.

Anyway, after that unsuccessful attempt at engagement, I figured I had some free time to spend on Joss—and when I saw his door open, I crossed the hallway, secretly hoping he’d call out to me.

And luckily, he did.

I snapped back to the present when I felt a hand on my shoulder. He was standing in front of me, looking concerned.

“Yeah… yeah,” I said, trying to recover. “Do you need help? What are you working on?”

I stepped past him and walked over to the study table. A smile curled on my lips as my eyes landed on the screen—he was designing a robot dog.

I remembered the one he built back in school. Joss was always into science and proudly part of the robotics club. He made tons of cool creations, but his favorite was that dog—it could do almost anything, any trick, with just the press of a remote. He even brought it home, and we had a lot of fun playing with it. He must still be into robotics. I wondered where the original one went—this design on his laptop looked like something new.

“Do you love it?” he asked.

I nodded. “So… you can actually build this?”

He nodded, settling into the chair as I stood beside him.

“I build robots in my free time—when I’m not helping Rhett,” he said.

“Do you sell them?” I asked.

“No,” he replied. “I just do it for fun. But now I want to take it to the next level and create something more advanced. There’s a company overseas I’d like to join—they specialize in this kind of tech.”

I looked around his bedroom, and that’s when I noticed a shelf filled with his small creations. On the top shelf sat a familiar-looking one.

“Why are you still here, then?” I asked. I wanted to walk over and take a closer look, maybe touch a few of them, but I held back. I hadn’t been invited.

“I was about to submit my proposal when Rhett had his accident,” he said. “You know Brant wasn’t going to step up, so I had to.”

I placed my hand gently on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. This gives me more time to refine my work to perfection—until Rhett’s back on his feet.”

“Do you want me to help you with anything?” I offered.

“No, I’m fine. Why don’t you take some time for yourself while Rhett doesn’t need you?”

I was pretty sure Rhett wouldn’t be needing me anytime soon. He was in his room, relaxed, moving around, and grabbing whatever he needed. That space must feel like heaven to him—a place where he doesn’t have to pretend around me.

“I want to do something,” I said. “Why don’t I get you a drink—something cold?”

“Thank you,” he said with a soft smile.

So I left the bedroom and went downstairs. I saw Dani and told her Joss would like some apple juice. That was a slip—I hadn’t even waited to ask him what kind of drink he actually wanted.

“How do you know he loves apple juice?” she asked.

Because I know it’s his favorite—that’s what I wanted to say. But instead, I lied.

“He told me.”

Dani smiled—that knowing smile of hers.

I guess nothing’s really changed with my brothers. They’re still the same. Their downfall will be easy. Of course, Brant Paxton will be the first to fall… then the rest will follow.

I brought Joss the drink, and he smiled, thanking me just as dinner arrived. This time, Rhett asked me to join them—and I did. My eyes kept drifting to Brant’s chair, which sat empty halfway through the meal. Eventually, he walked in and quietly took his seat.

“You're late,” Rhett said.

Brant ignored him, and Dani brought over his dinner. I excused myself and went to the kitchen, sensing Rhett probably wanted to talk to him without me around. The way Rhett kept glancing his way... yeah, he definitely had something to say. And he did.

“Listen, there’s going to be a small party here at the house...” Rhett started.

“To celebrate your fake recovery?” Brant cut in coldly. “I'm sorry. Utterly. I won’t be there. I'm very busy.”

“Why do you keep doing this?” Joss jumped in. "Even if you don't want to stay, just come for a little while."

I could imagine the dagger-like glare Brant must’ve shot him. “Will you shut up? I'm talking to our perfect big brother,” he snapped. Then he added, “I’ll be there—just long enough to help you showcase our perfect fake family to the world. But don’t expect me to enjoy it.”

Silence followed.

I returned to the table, glancing between them.

Brant was right about one thing: they are a perfect fake family—one that will slowly fall apart because of me.

For Jessica.