Oh. OH.
I was in Jaxson’s arms. Actually in his arms. Not a dream, not a fantasy, not one of those embarrassing scenarios I’d imagined during particularly boring lectures. This was reality, and I was so not prepared for it. His chest was pressed against my back, one arm draped over my waist, his breath warm against my neck. Every point of contact burned like a brand, sending jolts of electricity through my system that would put Thor to shame.
That same strange warmth from earlier flooded my system again, stronger now, like my body was drinking in his presence. It felt like coming home to a place I’d never known I was missing—a sense of rightness so profound it made my chest ache with how perfect it felt.
My heart wasn’t just racing—it was attempting to break the sound barrier. And certain parts of my anatomy were definitely getting ideas they shouldn’t, rising to attention faster than Colt responding to a misplaced protein shake.
Under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, I found myself turning carefully in his arms, studying his sleeping face like an art student cramming for their final exam. He looked younger in sleep, the weight of being our family’s responsible adult temporarily lifted from his shoulders. No spreadsheets to balance, no brothers to wrangle, no Lans to drive to work at ungodly hours. Just Jaxson, vulnerable and beautiful in a way that made my chest ache with want.
And because my self-preservation instinct was apparently on vacation in Tahiti, I lifted my hand to his face.Just one touch, I told myself, the same way Nico says “just one more game” at three a.m.Just to make sure this is real. My fingers hovered for a moment, trembling with both fear and anticipation, before gently tracing the sharp line of his jaw. His skin was warm beneath my fingertips, slightly rough with stubble that sent shivers racing down my spine.
The moment my skin made contact with his, that warmth intensified, spreading up my arm like liquid sunlight. It wasn’t just attraction—it felt almost supernatural, like some ancient connection being reawakened through touch.
Emboldened by his continued sleep, my fingers drifted down his throat to his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath my palm. His skin was smooth, warm, alive under my touch, and I couldn’t help but explore further, trailing down to his abs. Those perfectly sculpted abs that should be illegal and probably required a special license to possess.
Bad idea. Very bad idea. But I couldn’t stop. It was like I’d been dying of thirst for years and suddenly found an oasis. My body felt hot, too hot, and certain parts of my anatomy were definitely getting ideas they shouldn’t. The kind of ideas that would make Colt’s marketing presentations look tame and would get Bree’s mangas banned in conservative states.
What if he wakes up? What if he’s disgusted? What if he kicks me out and never speaks to me again? What if?—
My wrist was suddenly caught in an iron grip, and my eyes shot up to meet Jaxson’s very much awake, very dark gaze. So much for hoping he was a heavy sleeper. My heart stopped, then restarted at triple speed, a cold wave of panic washing over me like I’d been dunked in ice water.
But what truly stole my breath wasn’t his grip or even being caught—it was his eyes. In the dim light, they seemed to glow, amber-gold like a predator’s in the dark. The pupil had expanded, leaving only a thin ring of that strange, luminous color.
“Conducting a midnight anatomy study, Lan?” His voice was deep, rough with sleep—or something else entirely—and it sent shivers racing down my spine that had nothing to do with fear. My face felt hot enough to fry an egg, blood rushing to my cheeks so fast I was surprised I didn’t pass out.
“I, uh… would you believe I was checking for fever?” I squeaked, my voice barely a whisper, high and tight with panic. “You know, with all the germs flying around lately, can’t be too careful, and you were making this weird sound in your sleep, kind of like a?—”
“By mapping my abs?” The frost in his tone could have frozen hell over twice, but something in his eyes made my breath catch—a heat that contradicted his cold words. The hand around my wrist was firm but not painful, his thumb unconsciously stroking the sensitive inner skin in a way that made my pulse jump. “Or are you using me as your personal practice dummy for whoever’s starring in those dreams of yours?”
The words hit like a punch to the gut.If only you knew. Here I was, touching the very person I was in love with, and he thought he was just a stand-in. The irony was so thick you could spread it on toast and call it emotional jam. It would be hilarious if it wasn’t breaking my heart into tiny, pathetic pieces.
I licked my lips nervously, a habit I really needed to break, especially when his eyes tracked the movement like a predator watching prey. His nostrils flared slightly, as if catching some scent that made his grip tighten almost imperceptibly on my wrist. “Would it help if I said I’m having a very hands-on crisis? The kind that happens when you can’t stop thinking about someone who’s completely off-limits?”
“And I’m what—your midnight test subject?” His words were sharp enough to cut diamonds, but something in his eyes made my breath catch—a vulnerability that seemed at odds with his tone. His thumb continued that maddening stroke against my pulse point, sending small waves of that strange warmth through my veins. “Your practice run for the real thing?”
I buried my face against his chest, hiding from his intense gaze and the humiliation burning through me. His skin was warm against my forehead, his heartbeat strong and steady—faster than normal, but nowhere near the hummingbird pace of mine. “I’m sorry my hormones picked you as their target practice. It’s just… when I think about them, my brain short-circuits and my body goes into autopilot and—” I was babbling now, words spilling out like Nico’s gaming snacks during a rage quit.
His arms tightened around me, and something in his voice shifted, the edge softening to something almost teasing. “So I’m your hormonal guinea pig?” The rumble of his voice vibrated through his chest against my cheek. “Should I be flattered?”
I shook my head against his chest, mortification burning through me like wildfire. “More like mortified. I mean, who gropes their stepbrother in their sleep? I’m pretty sure that breaks at least twelve family bylaws and possibly several state laws. I should be on some kind of registry for inappropriate sibling behavior.”
The sigh that left him seemed to contain multitudes—frustration, amusement, and something else I couldn’t identify. “You really think that’s what’s bothering me right now?”
Fourteen
LAN
Iraised my head, confusion warring with a hope so fragile I was afraid to acknowledge it. “No? Because you sound like Colt during a marketing crisis, and your eyebrows are doing that thing they do when you’re about to lecture someone on responsibility.”
Something in his expression made my breath catch—a softness, a vulnerability I rarely saw. “When it comes to you, anger isn’t even in my emotional vocabulary. You know that.”
I nodded because I did know. What I didn’t know was why he was looking at me likethat, like I was something precious and desirable instead of his awkward, inappropriately horny stepbrother. Then he shifted his leg, and?—
Oh God.
A small gasp escaped me as his thigh pressed against my embarrassingly hard cock, the contact sending sparks of pleasure racing through me even through the fabric of my—his—shirt. Mortification flooded through me, hot and suffocating, and I scrambled to escape, nearly falling off the bed in my haste. “Right, so… I’ll just go take care of this minor situation. Somewhere that’s not here. Preferably another continent. Maybe Antarctica? I hear the penguins are very nonjudgmental.”
I was halfway off the bed when his hand wrapped around my arm, the heat of his palm burning through the thin fabric of his shirt—hisshirt that I was wearing like some lovesick fool collecting memorabilia. But this wasn’t normal warmth—it was like he’d branded me, the heat spreading from the contact point through my entire body in waves that felt almost supernatural in their intensity.