He danced out of Blake’s reach. Joel snickered and hit his brother on the arm. “Lay off him. Night, Blake. Jaxi said breakfast at seven.”
The twins slipped into the darkness toward the main floor room they still shared. Blake watched them go, caught by how much it was like hitting a time warp, seeing the house filled at every corner. Those two had been a handful as kids, but they’d turned into fine young adults.
If they didn’t want Jaxi, he would have thought even better of them.
Blah. That was sour grapes on his part. If he couldn’t have her—and he couldn’t—maybe the twins were the best thing for her. One of them. Maybe.
Blake rose and made his way downstairs. His feet seemed to stop of their own accord five paces too soon. He stared at the door of the den, closed tight. Behind those doors Jaxi would be curled up, her blonde hair draped over the pillow, body nestled in the thick comforter covering the sofa bed. She probably wore one of those baby-doll nighties, her long legs exposed, her smooth shoulders bare under thin straps of some kind of soft, shiny material. Sleeping in the room next to her the first night had been difficult, and after only a week, his desire for her had grown even stronger.
Blake bit back a growl and headed to his room. His ma needed the help but this week had been sheer hell on his body. Even now he was harder than a railway spike, the thought of Jaxi close by teasing his senses. He swore the scent of her filtered through the walls.
He stripped off his jeans and shirt, then padded toward the bathroom door. Fingers on the latch, he stilled. Oh hell, he’d nearly forgotten he couldn’t go in. As the oldest son he’d taken advantage of picking the only downstairs bedroom with an attached bathroom. But it had a connecting door to the den as well, and Jaxi had all her things in there. He stood, his hand glued to the doorknob. He wanted to enter, even hoped by some chance she’d have left the other door open, and he could torment himself with a glimpse of paradise.
Blake dragged a breath of air into his lungs in an attempt to cool his burning body. This wasn’t right. She was a guest in their home, and yet here he was, acting like a hound dog. He should be ashamed of himself.
He grabbed his travel kit from under the bed and marched down the hall toward the large shower room in the annex. He, Matt and Daniel had promised to use the larger bathroom and let Jaxi have the privacy of the other for herself.
The sound of running water met his ears and Blake stepped into the dimly lit room, wondering why his brothers had turned on only half the lights. Splashing noises echoed. Leaving his kit on the sink counter, he rounded the corner to the showers.
And froze.
The three showerheads in the open room were separated by nothing but space. Steam filtered the dim lighting into a moonshine glow.
All he saw was wet, naked skin. Jaxi’s skin. Every inch of her bare to his gaze as water poured from the middle shower, streaming in waves over her body. She faced away from him, head thrown back as she shifted to allow the water to slip over her face and down her chest. Blake, his body hot and needy, watched in a daze as the shampoo rinsed from her hair and undulated down her back, tiny bubbles racing over the curve of her waist. His gaze followed the bubbles along the gentle swell of her hips and the full curves of her ass. Her skin was pale pink from the heat of the water, faint tan lines showing on her thighs and arms.
His mouth went completely dry. Retreat. It had to happen—he had to turn and leave before she spotted him. Yet, no matter how loud his brain screamed at him, his feet remained glued in place as she slid the soap over her body. As she lifted her hands to brush her hair back from where it clung to her shoulders in white ribbons.
Blake’s cock tented his boxers as Jaxi rotated under the showerhead, turning the front of her body to his sight. Her nipples were soft. Tender, juicy pink berries crowning full, taut curves. The perfect size to fill his hands and still allow him to take her into his mouth. Water slid in rivulets over her belly and through the pale blonde curls visible at the junction of the long legs he’d fantasized about so many times. Jaxi’s eyes were closed, and she swayed as she washed, her hands slipping over her body in a way that made Blake heat to near boiling just from watching her. She hummed, quiet and low, her hips moving to the faint tune.
Guilt shot through him. He had no right to watch her, no right to invade her privacy and treat her like anything but the beautiful, caring person he knew her to be. She wasn’t his to admire.
God help him, he wanted her to be.
He swallowed hard and tried to peel his gaze away. Tried to not watch as her hands covered her breasts, then slicked over her belly in slow circles. Tried to glance away as she slipped her fingers gently through the curls covering her pussy, over her ass, washing every inch of her luscious body clean.
Blake watched, motionless and noiseless for so long he felt like a statue, every bit of his body gone as hard and rigid as his aching shaft. Indecision held him, immobilized him. The rush of blood through his veins drowned out the part of his common sense saying he needed to leave. The pounding faded everything logical and rational away in him and stripped him bare to need and desire.
His eyes needed him to stay here, to fill his brain with the vision of her glowing skin, her seductive movements. His hands needed to touch her, run over her curves in imitation of the water caressing in endless sweeps. His mouth needed to taste—not only her lips, but her breasts and the spot on her back where the skin dimpled above her ass.
He desired her. Every fiber of his being wanted to show her how much, but his conscience kept kicking his feet from under him before he could cross the room.
This was Jaxi.
He wished he had never walked down the hallway.
Jaxi opened her eyes, her gaze unfocused for a second before she noticed him standing in the steamy room like some ghostly Peeping Tom. Her quick intake of breath showed clearly enough she didn’t expect anyone, hadn’t realized she’d been putting on a show.
Now was a perfect time for him to drop his head and slip away. He couldn’t do it. She stared back at him through the mist hanging in the air, her eyes as big as silver dollars. She bit her bottom lip, and he fought a mental battle to leave, fought to stay quiet.
Then he noticed her nipples change. Tightening even as he looked at her. Electric pulses shot through him, and his hands itched to touch her, to lift the weight of her breasts and lap at those gems that had grown erect beneath his gaze.
Jaxi turned off the water and stepped slowly toward him, head held high. She sauntered up, slippery and wet, naked as a jaybird. Her skin glowed with heat as she stopped inches away, staring unendingly with those mesmerizing grey eyes. She reached out, her naked skin brushing his shoulder. She drew back, her arm clasping a towel she’d grasped from the hook beside his head.
He thought she’d wrap herself up quick. Instead she rotated her fingers and let the towel hang as she held the fluffy fabric to him. He glanced down, saw the way her hand trembled even as she put on a bold face and kept her body motionless under his heated gaze. He reached for her, his hand moving of its own accord before his brain fully engaged.
What brain? All the blood he needed for thinking had pooled in his groin.
This was the second time she’d taken him by surprise, and he couldn’t make the same mistake. He’d been haunted since the first incident.
He couldn’t let anything happen. It wasn’t right for them to be together.
Blake withdrew his hand.
And fled.