The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon) novel Chapter 48

Thalia’s Pov

The yacht cruise was exactly what we both needed to unwind and let go of some of the tension that had built up from being indoors and plotting our vengeance. Josh and Jessica were on the verge of a major meltdown.

A normal couple would have survived and thrived if their relationship was built on love, trust, and honesty.

They were both, however, self-absorbed, egotistical, money-hungry jerks. Money, money, and more money were the focus of their existence.

Brandon was well aware of that, and it was this knowledge that he was using against them and laying the groundwork for their demise…

According to one of his men, Josh went to a strip club, and his wife followed him in, to our shock there was no altercation.

Jessica had paid for the stripers, despite her best efforts to remain undetected. We were perplexed as to why a wife would pay for strippers. Perhaps she was attempting to entice him to sleep with them.

But there was one thing that bothered me: Josh’s continued ignorance about his lack of testicles. I wanted to see the look on his face when he realized he would never be able to have a child with his own willpower.

Brandon, on the other hand, was enthusiastic about keeping that knowledge, believing it to be beneficial to both our and their sides.

I trusted Brandon and proceeded with his suggestion; all I wished for was that nothing would backfire.

It was almost past midnight when we returned to the beach home. We simply landed the Yacht on the docks and went inside because Brandon was so weary. He had not caught any fish, but I had managed to catch two.

I pledged to smear it all over his face for the rest of his days. I had finally discovered an area in which I excelled better than him.

He jumped into the bed as soon as we walked in, completely oblivious to the fact that he was drenched.

I noticed he usually slept in damp clothes, I suspected it had something to do with his changing temperature, but I felt bad for Maggie, who was always left with the job of washing the damp sheets.

Before going to shower I walked to the kitchen and put the fish in the freezer. I walked back to the bedroom and said; “Brandon, put something dry on.”

He responded, “Come help me remove them.”

My cheeks flushed hotly as I suddenly began contemplating dirty things. I turned away and saw him smiling and staring back at me as I turned around.

He resisted the need to speak and instead closed his eyes. I just sat there looking like a fool, as if I were the world’s biggest idiot.

I wanted to slap myself in the face and bring myself back to reality. I didn’t need thoughts of Brandon naked in my head. I had previously seen him naked but had paid little attention to him.

However, I had stored images of his naked body in the back of my mind, and they had just emerged when he asked me to remove his garments.

I got up fast and headed to the shower, a decision I would later come to regret. I found myself caressing myself in the shower as my thoughts of him naked intensified.

Something I’d never done before: I was never a naughty girl, one could easily mistake me for a church girl. I discovered why Nestor labeled Brandon toxic.

I began by stroking my breasts, as they were the part of me that he admired and desired the most. There was no harm, I reasoned, but it felt so good that I lost control and slid down my honey pot.

I was already wet and aching, and all I needed was for him to walk in and thrust his big c**k into me. I swore if he walked in I would have not stopped him.

Yes, it was unethical, but I had a strong desire for him. Having filthy thoughts for a friend was not a crime.

I was simply returning the favor when he stated it and or***smed on my leg. Images of him began to replay in my thoughts as I kept touching myself. My legs began to wiggle and as soon as I sank into the tub, bolts of electric sweet feeling hit me; as I let out a moan.

My legs went completely numb; I’d never felt such an exquisite sensation between my legs before. No one had ever made me feel that way before, not even Josh.

I was unfamiliar with such explosive intense feelings. All I had to do was picture Brandon, I wondered how it would feel like in fresh. I took a deep breath in, exhausted all of my energy, and laid down in the tub.

A voice, a voice I didn’t want near the door, was the only thing that pulled me back to reality. “I’m hungry, Thalia,” he said.

I had left the Jerk napping, he was still sleeping when I walked in the shower, but somehow he was up and standing outside the bathroom door.

I began to wonder how long he had been standing outside the door. I froze in embarrassment, wanting for the bathtub to open and swallow me whole.

“Thalia? Thalia? Are you in there?” he inquired, but I kept silent until I realized that if I did not respond, he was going to enter.

“I will come… over and… cook for… you?” I stumbled over my words.

There was silence but I heard footsteps moving away from the door. As I yelled, I sank my teeth into my palm.

There was a high possibility that he had overheard me mast**bating. I felt as if I was going to die, and in fact, I wanted to die.

How could I mast**bate in someone’s house, I was so stup*d? I had no brain cells, I just sat in the tub, hoping he’d fall asleep and forget about it. I stayed in the restroom for an extended period, and I had no idea how long I was there until another knock brought me back to reality.

“It is acceptable to mas***rbate, Thalia, is it all-natural?” He said. I unfroze and cried out.

He offered me to taste his scrambled eggs and said, “I also mast**bate.” He had apparently grown tired of waiting for me and had prepared the eggs himself. However, the truth was that he had overheard me mast**bating.

I wasn’t going to leave the bathroom until I died of hunger. The shame was too much for me, so I began crying, the tears fell like a river.

“Thalia, it’s normal, after all the fun we had,” he explained. “I promise I’ll keep it a secret between us.” In his tone, I detected a trace of mockery.

He was laughing at me. The jacka*s was making fun of me. I wrapped my arms around my knees and sobbed, cursing myself for being an idiot. I’m not sure how I fell asleep, but it was already past midnight when I awoke.