Page 83 of Beautiful Sin
When he reached the junction of my neck and shoulder—the place where his shirt had slipped down to expose my skin—he paused, his breath hot against my pulse point. “Mine,” hewhispered, so quietly I almost thought I’d imagined it, before his mouth latched on to my skin, sucking hard enough that I knew it would leave a mark.
The sensation of his mouth on my neck, marking me where anyone could see, should have horrified me. Wei would notice immediately, of course. The smug bastard notices everything. But instead of horror, all I felt was a wave of heat that pooled low in my belly, turning my bones to liquid and my brain to static.
Jaxson’s eyes dropped lower, his expression changing from hunger to something like amusement as he took in the visible evidence of just how much his kisses had affected me. “Looks like our little game of house is getting more… interesting,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that seemed specifically designed to turn my internal organs to jelly.
My face went from merely hot to surface-of-the-sun levels of burning. “I’m twenty-one,” I managed, my voice embarrassingly breathless. “Being touched pretty much anywhere guarantees that reaction. It’s basic biology. I’d probably get hard if the wind blew the right way.”
Great. Now I’m comparing Jaxson’s kisses to the wind.Smooth, Lan. Real smooth.
His smile was predatory in a way that should have scared me but instead sent another wave of heat through my already overheated body. “Is that so? Just biology?” His thumb traced my lower lip, which felt swollen and sensitive from his kisses. “Nothing to do with me specifically, then?”
“Pure coincidence,” I assured him with all the conviction of Nico claiming he hadn’t been the one to use up all the hot water. “You just happened to be the closest warm body. Don’t let it go to your head.”
His laugh was low and dark, promising trouble of the very best kind. “Well, since I’m the convenient warm body at hand, would you like me to take care of it? Like before?”
The memory of that night—Jaxson’s hand on me, the pleasure that had ripped through me with devastating intensity—made me swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry.
Say no. This is already crossing too many lines. This is your stepbrother, your family, the guy who helped you with your English homework. Say no.
“Yes,” I whispered, the word escaping before I could stop it, drawn from some deep, honest place that cared more about his touch than any concept of propriety. “I mean—that is—if you want to? But you don’t have to. Obviously. It’s not your responsibility to deal with my… situation.”
Christ, I sound like I’m negotiating a business deal instead of begging my stepbrother to touch me again. What’s next, a PowerPoint presentation on the benefits of orgasms?
Jaxson’s eyes darkened further, if that was even possible. “I don’t think the kitchen is the right place for what I have in mind,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, rougher. “My room.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice, as he took my hand and led me down the hallway to his bedroom.
The evidence of my earlier intrusion was still visible—the rumpled bedding where I’d napped, the imprint of my head on his pillow. If he noticed, he didn’t comment. His focus was entirely on me, those amber-gold eyes tracking my every movement like I might disappear if he looked away for even a moment.
The bedroom door clicked shut behind us with a finality that sent both terror and anticipation racing through me. This was really happening. We were really doing this. Crossing lines that could never be uncrossed, venturing into territory from which there might be no return.Great job with your self-control, Lan. You lasted approximately three seconds before following your stepbrother to his bedroom like a desperate puppy.
Jaxson’s hands went to his tie, loosening it before pulling it free and draping it over the back of his desk chair. His suit jacket followed, revealing the crisp white shirt beneath that somehow made him look even more devastating. There should be a warning label on that shirt. Caution: May cause spontaneous combustion in susceptible stepbrothers.
When he began rolling up his sleeves, exposing the tanned skin of his forearms, I nearly swallowed my tongue. There was something unbearably intimate about watching him undress, even partially. His movements were deliberate, methodical, each fold of fabric precise and neat. Of course. Even when he’s about to ruin his stepbrother’s virtue, he’s still perfectly organized about it. He probably has a special filing system for his sexual conquests.
“You’re staring,” he observed, a hint of amusement coloring his tone as he finished with his sleeves and moved to the small leather love seat tucked into the corner of his room.
“You’re worth staring at,” I replied without thinking, immediately wanting to smack myself.Filter, Lan! Use your brain-to-mouth filter!“I mean—that is—watching you roll up your sleeves shouldn’t be that attractive, but somehow you make it look like a scene from a magazine spread, and I should really stop talking now.”
His lips curved into a smile that made my heart perform gymnastics routines that would qualify for the Olympics. He sank onto the love seat with a grace that made my mouth go dry, his long legs spread slightly, one arm stretching across the back of the couch in a pose that looked casual but felt like a deliberate invitation.
“Come here,” he said, his voice dropping to that register that seemed designed specifically to make my knees weak. He patted his lap, and I swear my brain short-circuited completely.
“You want me to—” I gestured vaguely, heat flooding my face faster than a broken dam. “Like—on your?—”
“Yes, Lan,” he confirmed, eyes darkening as they tracked my nervous movements. “I want you on my lap. Unless you’d prefer the bed?”
The image of me sprawled across Jaxson’s bed while he hovered over me sent another wave of heat through my body, but somehow the thought of straddling his lap, of being so close that nothing could come between us, felt more intimate, more dangerous, more everything.
“No, the, uh—this is—”English, Lan. You learned it. Use it.“This works.”
My feet carried me across the room without conscious direction from my brain, which was currently occupied with visions of all the ways this could go wrong. I could knee him in a sensitive area. I could collapse on top of him like a ton of bricks. I could spontaneously combust from embarrassment. The possibilities for disaster were endless.
When I reached him, standing awkwardly between his spread legs, Jaxson’s hands settled on my hips, steadying me as he guided me forward until my knees bumped against the edge of the love seat.
“Like this,” he murmured, his thumbs stroking small circles against my hip bones through the thin fabric of my shorts. “One knee on either side of my hips.”
I followed his direction, climbing onto the love seat and settling my knees on either side of his thighs, my weight balanced awkwardly as I tried to avoid actually sitting on his lap. The position left me slightly above him, looking down into those amber-gold eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light of his bedroom.
