He tilts his head, now staring at my face as he plays with my breasts. My face flushes and sweat builds on my forehead as tiny electrical currents of pleasure shoot straight betweenmy legs. I want to come so badly, but not by my brother’s hand. It’s so wrong, and he’ll definitely judge me for that. Especially if I scream his name and beg him to touch my pussy.
We stare at each other for a moment or two, and I don’t think either of us breathes as we wait for the other to say or do something. What I want probably isn’t something he wants, so I stay quiet.
Reluctantly, he lets go of my breasts, his fingertips dragging on the sensitive skin like he loathes to part with them. He pulls my bra into place, tucking each breast into the cups before he lowers my crop top to cover me.
I sag the moment he turns to grab a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and soaks a cotton pad with it.
“This will sting,” he says.
“Can’t be worse than what happened with Mickey,” I tease.
Jaxon tenses. His expression turns blank, then twists into rage. His eyes shutter and lose focus.
I jump off the counter and huddle near him, careful as I gently touch his arm with one hand and his chest with the other. My brother stands still, like he’s a brick building and I’m some idiot trying to shove it. I jerk my hands away from him as he turns his cold, dark eyes to me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper with a tremble in my voice.
Jaxon follows me with every backward step. My thighs brush against the large jacuzzi bathtub behind me, stopping me from going anywhere else now that my blacked-out brother corners me.
“Jaxon,” I whisper, hoping he doesn’t lose his shit on me.
Jaxon’s hand shoots out, his fingers circle around my wrist, and he jerks me forward and forces me to touch his chest.
“Keep me here,” he grates out. He pitches his voicelower by an octave, sounding like he swallowed rocks. I shiver as he guides my hand upward until I cup his throat. “Touch me.”
Warmth pools low in my belly. I know he doesn’t mean it that way, but the thought is there in my head, and I can’t get it out after hearing it. I flex my fingers around his neck and step closer to him. His lips thin into a harsh line, and his breathing quickens. The position is awkward. He may not be too much taller than I am, but it’s weird to hold him like this while we stand so close together.
“Sit down,” I say.
Jaxon’s hands settle on my waist, and he moves us until he lowers himself onto the bathtub’s wide outer edge. I gasp as he yanks me down to straddle his lap, my knees resting on the marble tub. Jaxon grabs my wrist, guiding me to wrap my fingers around his tattooed throat again.
My clit flutters as I squeeze on him, feeling his Adam’s apple move every time he swallows. His eyes remain clouded with anger, and he trembles from the adrenaline rushing through his body, preparing him for a fight that won’t happen. Despite all of that, he doesn’t attack me. If anything, he’s gentle as he winds an arm around my waist, pulling me close enough that my aching center grinds against his pelvis. My cheeks warm as I feel the large stiffness between his legs, nestled right where our bodies would join if we ever got to that point—which we won’t.
Fuck me. I shouldn’t be attracted to my brother. Especially not while he’s fighting his anger.
I lean my forehead against his and thread my fingers through his hair, the same way I’ve always loved being done to me. Mom used to do it when I was a kid, but she stopped when I got a little older and her annoyance with me grew into an ugly beast.
“I’m okay, big brother.”
Calling him that always brings him back to me. It’s been in my arsenal forever, at the ready for times like these.
My grip on his throat tightens until I control each breath he takes. I’ve never questioned why this works for him, but it just does. His eyelashes flutter, and he struggles for breath, all while keeping his eyes on me. The faraway look dissipates like a storm breaking apart and revealing blue skies. I breathe a sigh of relief and sag against him, my fingers loosening to rest on his warm skin.
“What would I do without you?” Jaxon murmurs.
“Probably be in jail,” I tease.
“You have no idea.”
Jaxon’s hand slips over my bare love handles and travels up my ribs, his fingers brushing along each one. I suck in a breath as his thumbs inch higher, right beneath my breasts. My core flutters, and arousal burns through my veins until I have to shift my hips to ease the ache between my legs. I freeze as Jaxon’s breath hisses through his teeth and his grip on me tightens, holding me still.
“Sorry,” I squeak.
He groans under his breath, and the sound vibrates against my chest. “Apologize again, flower, and you won’t like what will happen.”
I lean back, cocking my head with my eyebrows pinching together. “You just snapped out of a blacked-out rage and had me choke you, and you’re going to sit here and contradict yourself by threatening violence on me?”
“Violence? That’s cute.” Jaxon’s lips quirk into a brief smile, and the subliminal promise in his teasing is enough to bring butterflies into my stomach.
