Page 56 of Beautiful Sin
Just one kiss, he reasoned, leaning down to press his lips to Lan’s forehead. But one became two as he couldn’t resist kissing the tip of that perfect nose. And because he was already damned, he captured those soft lips in a kiss that left him growling with barely contained hunger.
“God help me, angel,” he murmured against Lan’s temple, his voice rough with want. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
He forced himself to leave before he could give in to the urge to crawl back into bed, to wake Lan with kisses, to continue last night’s “lessons” until neither of them could remember their own names. The thought was tempting—too tempting—but Jaxson had already crossed enough lines. For now.
The kitchen beckoned, and Jaxson had barely touched the coffee maker when Wei materialized like a caffeine-seeking missile.
“Step away from the machine,” Wei commanded, voice still rough with sleep. “I won’t let you commit coffee crimes this early in the morning.”
Jaxson raised his hands in surrender, chuckling. “All yours, Coffee Whisperer. God forbid we drink peasant brew.”
Wei began his morning ritual, measuring beans with the precision of a master alchemist. “So,” he said casually, too casually, “how was having our resident Celestial Peach in your bed again?”
“Fine,” Jaxson replied, aiming for nonchalance and probably missing by a mile. “Just fine.”
“Still does that thing?” Wei’s dark eyes gleamed with knowing mischief. “Where he rolls on top of you like a clingy koala?”
The memory of Lan sprawled across his chest made Jaxson’s throat go dry. Before he could formulate a response that wouldn’t incriminate him, Colt’s voice cut through the kitchen like a blade.
“Yeah, how was babysitting duty?” Colt’s tone carried enough sarcasm to fill a small ocean.
Jaxson caught the tension in Colt’s frame, the slight clench of his jaw, the way his eyes seemed to track invisible remnants of Lan’s scent. Something territorial flared in Jaxson’s chest at Colt’s obvious interest.Mine, that possessive part of him growled.Not yours.
“Like sleeping with a starfish,” Jaxson deflected, reaching for a mug. “An extremely cuddly starfish.”
“Mm-hmm.” Wei’s hum spoke volumes as he poured the perfectly brewed coffee. “And I’m sure you hated every second of it.”
Colt’s knuckles went white around his mug, and Jaxson filed that reaction away for later consideration. The tension between them had been building for months, ever since Jaxson had caught Colt watching Lan with that same hungry look that Jaxson tried so hard to hide.
“Some of us,” Jaxson said pointedly, “actually take our big brother duties seriously.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Wei said, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. “Your ‘brotherly duties’?”
The double meaning hung in the air like smoke, making Jaxson’s ears burn. But he refused to be baited. Last night had been… special. Private. Not something to be dissected over morning coffee by his nosy brothers.
“Speaking of duties,” Colt drawled, methodically arranging his coffee mug on a coaster—because heaven forbid anyone leave rings on their scratched kitchen table. “When are you planning to actually live your life, Jaxson? You’re thirty, not dead.”
Sunlight streamed through their kitchen window, painting the chipped countertops in deceptively warm hues. Jaxson watched Wei’s practiced movements at the coffee machine, grateful for the distraction from Colt’s pointed inquiry.
“I live just fine, thanks for the concern.” Jaxson kept his tone light, though his grip on his mug suggested otherwise. “Weren’t we done with this conversation back in Season One ofHarassing Your Eldest Brother? I must have missed the renewal notice for Season Two.”
Colt’s laugh held no humor. “Oh, you mean when you deflected just as skillfully as you’re doing now?” He reached for the sugar, measuring exactly one teaspoon. “That real estate agent from your office—Rebecca, right?—seemed interested. Unless you’re too busy playing house to notice?”
Rebecca?The thought of her carefully coordinated outfits and calculated smiles made something in Jaxson’s chest tighten with distaste.She couldn’t hold a candle to Lan. He cut that thought off before it could fully form, painfully aware of the phantom warmth of Lan’s lips still lingering on his.
“Some of us are too busy being successful to play the field,” Jaxson replied, taking a deliberately long sip of his coffee. The bitter taste matched his mood perfectly.
Wei leaned against the counter, cradling his precious coffee like a newborn. His dark eyes danced with unholy amusement. “Success is relative, dear brother. Some might say true success includes a fulfilling personal life.”
“I’m fulfilled just fine,” Jaxson muttered, then immediately regretted his word choice as Wei’s grin turned positively feline.
“Oh, are you now?” Wei’s voice dripped with suggestion. “And how exactly are you… fulfilling yourself these days?”
The image of Lan’s face as he came apart in Jaxson’s arms flashed through his mind—those dark eyes wide with pleasure, those perfect lips parted on a gasp, that beautiful flush spreading down his neck and across his chest. The memory was so vivid, so perfect, that Jaxson had to take another sip of coffee to hide his reaction.
Xander appeared in the doorway, his golden-blond hair performed an impressive impersonation of an avant-garde art installation, yet somehow he still managed to look like he’d stepped off a magazine cover. Even his yawn seemed professionally choreographed.
“Do I smell Wei’s coffee?” Xander made his way to the machine with the desperate focus of an addict seeking his fix. He poured himself a cup, inhaled deeply, and took a reverent sip. “God, this almost makes being conscious worthwhile.”
