Page 23 of Beautiful Sin
“He’s just distracted,” Jaxson defended, missing the loaded look between his brothers as his mind replayed Lan’s words from the car.I already have someone I’m in love with.The memory sent a wave of possessive rage through him so intense it was physically painful, like someone had reached into his chest and was squeezing his heart in a viselike grip. The pain wasn’t metaphorical—it was a real, physical agony that made him wonder if he was having a heart attack at thirty.
“Oh?” Wei’s eyes danced with unholy glee. “And you would know about these… distractions?”
“Personal stuff,” Jaxson said firmly, unwilling to discuss Lan’s revelation. The thought of Lan pining for someone, dreaming of someone else, wanting someone who wasn’t him—it made something primal and violent rise within him, something that wanted to hunt down this unknown rival and eliminate the threat. His vision sharpened, the edges of the room becoming crystalline in clarity—another strange physiological response he couldn’t explain.
“At his age?” Wei’s smile widened, too knowing, too perceptive. “Must be love.”
“How would you know?” Jaxson asked, trying not to look as interested as he felt, even as his insides twisted with jealousy sharp enough to draw blood. The pain pulsed in time with hisheartbeat, each throb a reminder of something essential slipping away.
“Please,” Wei leaned forward, every inch the cat with not just the cream, but the whole dairy farm. “At twenty-one? Everything’s about love. Or did you forget your own awkward phase?”
Colt snorted, running a hand through his damp hair. “As if our perfect eldest brother ever had an awkward phase. He was too busy collecting girlfriends like trading cards.”
“Speaking from experience?” Jaxson shot back, though his mind was elsewhere. Those relationships had been as substantial as tissue paper in rain—just something to fill the void after their parents died. None of them had made him feel even a fraction of what one half-dressed Lan could do with a single glance.
None of them had smelled like honey, cherry blossoms, and lilies. None of them had made his chest ache with a longing that felt ancient and overwhelming. None of them had felt like coming home, like finding a missing piece of himself he hadn’t known was lost. Like completing a circuit that had been broken for centuries.
“All I’m saying,” Wei continued, his voice carrying that irritating know-it-all tone he’d perfected over twenty-seven years of having all the answers, “is that our little Shrine Maiden’s acting exactly like someone in love. Distracted. Dreamy. Walking around practically naked…”
The thought of Lan—hisLan—dreaming about someone else made something dark and primitive surge through Jaxson’s veins. A possessiveness so intense it frightened him with its ferocity. The need to claim, to mark, to possess was overwhelming, supernatural in its power. It felt older than himself, deeper than modern morality, more fundamental than the family ties that bound them. Like a cosmic law written in hisDNA, a truth he’d been born knowing: Lan was his. Had always been his. Would always be his.
“I’m going to shower,” Jaxson announced, standing abruptly. He couldn’t handle any more speculation about Lan’s love life—not when his own feelings were threatening to bubble over like an unattended pot, not when every cell in his body was screaming at him to claim what was his.
“Running away?” Colt’s words held a challenge that went deeper than their surface bickering. Something ancient flickered in his eyes.
“Not my secret to tell.” Jaxson managed a casual shrug that felt anything but. “Ask him yourself if you’re so curious.”
“Ah.” Wei’s eyes gleamed with that strange, ancient knowledge that sometimes made Jaxson wonder if he knew far more than he let on. “So thereisa secret.”
“Good night,” Jaxson said pointedly, already heading for the door. He needed to escape before Wei’s knowing looks and Colt’s sharp comments cracked his carefully maintained facade. Before they saw the monster lurking beneath his skin, the one that wanted to possess Lan completely, to erase any thought of loving someone else from his mind.
“Such a mother hen,” Colt called after him, his words carrying a bitterness only Wei understood.
“Sweet dreams, big brother,” Wei’s voice followed him down the hall. “Try not to think too hard about our little Shrine Maiden’s… distractions.”
Jaxson’s only response was to close his bedroom door with enough force to rattle the hinges. He needed a shower. A very cold one. Anything to wash away the rage and possession threatening to consume him from the inside out.
But even as he stripped off his clothes, Jaxson knew no amount of cold water could douse the fire in his blood. This wasn’t just desire. It wasn’t just inappropriate feelings for astepbrother. This was something else entirely—something that felt like it had been building for years, decades, perhaps even centuries. Something that went beyond rational thought or moral considerations. A bond that transcended time itself.
The bathroom tiles were cool against his heated skin as he stepped into the shower, turning the water as cold as it would go. The shock of it barely registered through the storm of emotions raging inside him. Not that any amount of water could wash away the images branded into his retinas—Lan in that towel, water droplets playing connect-the-dots across newly defined muscles, the soft vulnerability in those eyes when Jaxson had touched his hair. The sweet scent that clung to him, growing stronger with proximity, seemed to follow Jaxson even here, as if it had imprinted itself on his senses permanently.
Fuck.
He was supposed to be the responsible one. The mature older brother. The family pillar. Instead, here he was, burning with jealousy over his stepbrother’s love life, plotting ways to identify and eliminate the competition. The urge to protect and possess Lan wasn’t just emotional—it was physical, manifesting as actual pain in his chest when he thought of Lan with someone else, as if his body was rejecting the very possibility.
If there was a special circle of hell for inappropriate thoughts about family members, he’d just bought himself a first-class ticket.
The worst part? This wasn’t even about pure lust—though God knew there was plenty of that. No, what really terrified him was how his heart clenched whenever Lan smiled. How he wanted to gather the boy in his arms and never let go. How he’d rather cut off his own arm than see Lan hurt. How the mere thought of Lan loving someone else made him want to burn the world down. It felt like devotion and worship as much as desire—a reverence that went beyond the physical.
It was love. Not brotherly love, not familial affection, but something all-consuming and desperate. Something that felt like it had been waiting patiently beneath his skin for years, biding its time until Lan was old enough, until the moment was right. Like a key finally finding its lock after centuries of searching.
His cock twitched, apparently deciding that his moral crisis was the perfect time to remind him of its presence. Because of course it would. Traitor.
“Shit,” he breathed, glancing down at his betraying body. The evidence of his desire stood proud and unashamed, like it hadn’t gotten the memo about appropriate stepbrother behavior.
He was no better than those creeps who eye-fucked Lan at Eight Dynasties. The thought made him sick, but it didn’t make his erection flag. If anything, the memory of how he’d glared those perverts into submission only made things worse. How he’d wanted to break their wandering eyes for daring to look at what was his.
His. When had he started thinking of Lan ashis?
