Page 30 of Beautiful Sin
Yet even now, I could feel something different inside me—that warmth that hadn’t been there before, a sense of connection that persisted even with Jaxson in another room. It was as if some dormant part of me had finally awakened, and now that it was conscious, it couldn’t be put back to sleep.
Tomorrow was going to be interesting. And by interesting, I meant absolutely mortifying. How was I supposed to look him in the eye over breakfast?Hey, thanks for the orgasm, can you pass the coffee? Oh, and by the way, do you also feel weirdly warm inside, or is that just me being weird? Also, what are your thoughts on my complete lack of body hair? Just curious.
I grabbed my pillow and screamed into it, wondering if it was possible to die of embarrassment, arousal, and existential crisis at the same time. At least if I spontaneously combusted, I wouldn’t have to face him at breakfast.
But a tiny, traitorous part of me was already wondering if this would happen again. Because apparently, one earth-shattering orgasm wasn’t enough to satisfy my Jaxson addiction. And I hadn’t missed the evidence that he wasn’t entirely unmoved by what had happened between us. But that didn’t mean he felt the same way I did. It was probably just a physical reaction—anyguy would get hard in that situation, right?Oh sure, perfectly normal to get turned on while handling your bizarrely smooth stepbrother. Happens to everyone.
Mine, he’d said. Those four letters played on repeat in my mind, a dangerous hope taking root. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t one-sided. Maybe he felt something too. Maybe that strange warmth in my chest meant something.
I shook my head, trying to dislodge the thought before it could fully form. Hope was a dangerous thing. Especially when it came to Jaxson. I couldn’t afford to read too much into this, couldn’t let myself believe it meant more than it did. That way lay heartbreak and ruin and probably a lifetime of awkward family dinners.
But as I drifted toward sleep, my body still humming with the aftereffects of his touch and that peculiar warmth still glowing in my chest, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted between us. Something ancient and inevitable, like pieces of a cosmic puzzle finally clicking into place. Like our souls recognizing each other across the void.
God, I am so screwed.
And not even in the fun way.
Nine
SINCLAIR BROTHERS
Jaxson stumbled into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him with trembling hands. His legs gave out, sending him sliding down against the frame until he hit the floor, his body a contradiction of exhaustion and electric awareness. The scent of honey, cherry blossoms, and lilies clung to his skin, his clothes, seemingly embedded in his very pores—Lan’s distinctive fragrance, now mixed with the unmistakable musk of arousal and release. It was stronger than ever, more intoxicating, bypassing his rational mind and triggering something ancient and primal within him.
“Fuck!” The word escaped in a harsh whisper, barely louder than his thundering heartbeat. He had just given his stepbrother a hand job. His adorably innocent, completely off-limits, utterly perfect stepbrother. The one he’d sworn to protect, not corrupt.
And yet…
His body hummed with satisfaction, a primal part of him—something that felt older than his conscious mind—purring with contentment. He’d touched Lan. Made him come apart. Heard his name on those perfect lips as pleasure overtook him. The memory alone was enough to reawaken his own desire, his still-hard cock straining painfully against his pants.
The possessive beast that had taken residence in his chest since Lan’s confession in the car growled with approval.Mine. The thought wasn’t just a feeling anymore—it was a certainty that resonated in his bones, a truth as fundamental as gravity. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be the responsible one, the pillar, the protector. Not the predator.
But when Lan had looked at him with those tear-filled eyes, confessing his heartache over loving someone who didn’t see him that way… something in Jaxson had snapped. The thought of Lan pining for someone else, someone who couldn’t appreciate the gift of his affection, had triggered a physical pain in his chest so intense it felt like his heart was being torn out. Before he could think it through, he’d been touching Lan, claiming him in the most intimate way possible.
“What the hell have I done?” he muttered, dragging his hands through his hair, which felt unusually hot beneath his fingers, as if his body temperature had spiked.
The questions started parading through his mind like a particularly aggressive marching band. Had he taken advantage of Lan when he was vulnerable? Was he that desperate? That selfish?
But beneath the guilt, a darker, more possessive thought surfaced:At least now he knows what it feels like to be touched by someone who truly wants him. By me. Not by whoever he thinks he’s in love with.
The thought should have horrified him. Instead, it settled in his chest like a weight, heavy but somehow right. Lan belonged with him. To him. The certainty of it ran deeper than logic or morality, resonating in his bones like an ancient truth that had been written in his DNA before he was born. It felt like remembering something he’d always known but had somehow forgotten until now.
His legs finally surrendered to gravity, and he collapsed onto his king-sized bed. The ceiling offered no answers as he contemplated how he was supposed to face Lan tomorrow. Should he pretend nothing happened? Play it cool like he hadn’t just crossed every line in the “How to Be a Good Stepbrother” handbook?
No, that wasn’t his style. Jaxson Sinclair didn’t do denial—he faced things head-on, no matter how ugly. And this situation definitely qualified as ugly. Beautiful, but ugly.
He’d have to apologize to Lan.
But even as the thought formed, something rebellious and possessive coiled in his gut. Apologize for what, exactly? For making Lan feel good? For showing him how it could be between them? For taking the first step toward claiming what felt rightfully his? The very idea of apologizing for what had happened between them triggered that strange pain again—a visceral rejection that felt almost supernatural in its intensity.
His eyes drifted shut, only for his brain to helpfully supply a high-definition replay of Lan—flushed face, bright eyes, and thatexpression. God, that expression. Like Jaxson had simultaneously ruined him and remade him. Wet hair clinging to that delicate face, those blushing cheeks spreading down his neck, milky pale skin that practically begged to be marked. The sweet scent that had intensified with his arousal, wrapping around Jaxson like invisible bonds. When his mind decided to remind him of exactly how Lan looked spread out before him, trembling with need, Jaxson knew he was royally screwed.
And then there was the moment they’d almost kissed. He’d felt Lan’s breath against his lips, seen those dark eyes drop to his mouth with unmistakable want. Something extraordinary had happened in that moment—a pulling sensation in his chest, like an invisible cord drawing him toward Lan with a force that felt ancient and inevitable. It wasn’t just desire; it was recognition,bone-deep and primal, as if something dormant in his soul had suddenly awakened and recognized its counterpart.
If Lan hadn’t pulled back at the last second, Jaxson knew his legendary self-control would have shattered completely. He would have devoured that perfect mouth, claimed those soft lips, tasted the sweetness he’d been dreaming about for years. His fingers curled into the bedspread at the memory, the fabric tearing slightly under his grip—a strength he hadn’t known he possessed surging through him at the thought of what he’d almost had.
The image of Lan’s body remained burned into his mind—that impossibly smooth skin, unmarked by the typical masculine hair patterns, skin so pale it seemed to glow in the dim light. Lan had been self-conscious about it, he could tell, the way he’d tensed when Jaxson first saw him naked. But God, if Lan only knew how perfect he was—how that uncommon smoothness had triggered something possessive and primal in Jaxson’s core. It was as if Lan had been crafted specifically for him, uniquely beautiful in a way that defied conventional masculinity.
Something about that smoothness, that delicacy combined with unmistakable maleness, had resonated with a part of Jaxson he hadn’t known existed—a part that growledminewith such ferocity it had frightened him. He’d never felt so possessive of anyone before, never felt this bone-deep certainty that another person belonged to him so completely, so irrevocably.
