Page 55 of Branded Betrayal

And yet it did. Twice.

Heat creeps into my cheeks. What the hell did we just do?

Exactly what you wanted to do, Savvie. Isn’t this why you came?

Dammit, voice. Shut the hell up!

I came because I needed to know what I meant to him. But past experience has shown that words and actions don’t usually sync up where Blaze is concerned. He says one thing, then does another, the king of mixed signals.

But realistically, I know this can’t go anywhere. It won’t. He’s already proven it.

So that’s it. We gave in to our pent-up desires. One last time. It won’t happen again, just like he said.

“I-I’m going to leave. Now.”

I tear my gaze away from him and dart to my car, my brain still lust-fogged after whatever the hell that was. Once I’m in the car, I bring my fingers to my lips, still swollen from his oral assault, his taste still lingering on my tongue.

And I know damn well that won’t be our last time.

My head falls forward onto the steering wheel, and I whisper, “My God, I’m so screwed.”

Chapter Eighteen

Blaze

It’s only been three fucking days, but it feels like a lifetime since I last saw Savannah. Since I tasted her lips, tinged with lemon and sugar, since she moaned into my mouth, since she writhed against my cock like the greedy little vixen she’s become.

Scraping a hand down the front of my face, I stare up at the house. Each night since that kiss, I’ve sat outside her place like a damn lovesick stalker. But even though I tell myself it’s because of the warnings Nash hit me with last time I saw him . . . and that picture of Savvie tucked under my windshield . . . I’m afraid to stay away. Afraid I already put her in too much danger.

From where I’m parked, I can see her move through the house. It’s almost nine o’clock, so she’s already shut off the lights downstairs.

Fucking Nash. If he was so worried about Savannah, he should be staying here at the house with her. But I haven’t seen or heard anything about him in days.

And while I know she’d be better off with someone staying here, I’m sure glad that vet hasn’t shown up for a nightcap.

My eyes fall to the container on the seat next to me. She packed it pretty full of scones, and I’ve slowly made my way through it, knowing after she took off from the barn like she’d stepped on a hive of wasps, it’d be a long time before I got any more. I pull off the lid, and my stomach rumbles at the sweet, sugary smells that hit the air.

I sink my teeth into the crumbly pastry, the combined flavors of vanilla, lemon, and tart blueberry making me moan. “So fucking good,” I mutter, finishing one off in two bites. Savannah always had a flair for baking. It’s like you could taste her love and care in each bite, which somehow made everything even better than it would be normally.

I stare at her bedroom window. 8:58, 8:59, 9:00. She flips off the light switch.

I grab my rifle and quietly step out of the truck. Heading up the driveway, I move stealthily between the trees, ducking in and out of the shadows. Crickets bleep, piercing the still night air. Gravel crunches under my boots as I slowly make my way around the perimeter of the house, checking doors and windows to make sure everything is locked tight and secured.

Grasses rustle behind me, and I jump, flipping around with the barrel of the gun pointed into the darkness. My pulse thrums as I creep in the direction of the sound. Sweat prickles my skin. I step farther away from the house, deeper into the grasses.

“Blaze . . .”

A gasp catches in my throat. I clutch the rifle, my finger sliding over the trigger.

“Blaze, what the hell are you doing? You can’t be here alone.”

The rifle shakes.

Liam’s face floats into my view. “I’m not letting you handle this mission alone. We’re brothers, remember?”

A loud squeal grates against my ears, and something scurries past me. My shoulders slump when I catch a look at it. Fucking possum.

I drop to my knees and stare up at the inky sky, the rifle slipping from my grip.