Page 66 of Séance

That man is a lot to handle, especially first thing in the morning.

Jaceson is on the far side of the island, wearing an amused expression as he peers at me over a large glass of orange juice. The wide expanse of his chest is bare, leaving every delicious muscle exposed to my gaze. His pajamas ride low on his hips, and I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly feeling parched.

His pale blue eyes darken, then his gaze drops and slowly rakes over every inch of me, leaving my body tingling and achy. Flustered by his intensity, I rip my gaze away from the enticing package he presents, almost like he’s on display for my ogling pleasure. He’s like a panther on the prowl, and I’m not sure if he’s ready to pounce and play with me or if he’s about to go in for a kill.

My attention falls on Jameson. His upper body is splayed dramatically over the center island where he’s stretched across the surface, his head resting on his arms. When he sees me, his face lights up with pleasure, and I smile at his adorably ruffled appearance.

I almost expect him to jump to his feet and bounce over to me. Instead, he drags himself to his feet, shuffles over to me, then wraps me in his arms and tucks his head into the crook of my neck before sighing in contentment.

I stiffen a little, but the heat of him and the light floral scent of his cologne have me relaxing a moment later. Only, when he doesn’t move for nearly a full minute, I gingerly reach up and rub his back, shooting a wide-eyed look at his brother over his shoulder.

Jaceson smirks at my predicament, but when I narrow my eyes on him, he finishes his drink and comes to my rescue, peeling his brother off me. “Sorry, he gets a little clingy when he’s sleepy.”

Only Jameson fights him.

The instant one arm is free, he wraps the other one around me, not loosening his hold. After five minutes, Jaceson huffs in exasperation, and I squirm when I feel Jameson smile against the side of my neck, his lips ticklish as they brush against the sensitive skin.

An icy blast of water smacks me right in the face, and I take a shocking breath of air as I sputter and lurch back, but no matter where I move, the water follows. My head snaps up to find Hicks holding the hose connected to the sink, and he’s wearing an infernal smirk on his face.

I have no doubt the fucker hit me on purpose.

“Not my pookie!” Jameson bellows, scandalized and outraged that I had been targeted.

His eyes narrow in menace, but before he can retaliate, the stream of water shifts. Jameson squeals, dancing away as he tries to escape the cold shower without losing his hold on me. When the water doesn’t stop, he growls then tosses me over his shoulder, yelling threats as he sprints from the room. “You better watch your back. This means war!”

I can’t stifle my giggle as we charge into the empty living room and head directly up the stairs. Jostled by his shoulder, I reach down and wrap my arms around his waist for stability, and I can’t help but admire the way his wet sweatpants cling to his ass.

My mouth waters as I think about reaching down and biting that glorious round ass as it flexes just inches away. I’m so distracted that I don’t notice Jameson skidding to a stop in an unfamiliar room until he grabs my thighs and slowly lowers me to the ground.

Blood rushes to my head, and I sway, clinging to his chest—his very wet chest—then I can’t look away when I see every inch of him on display, only a thin piece of cotton separating us. Hecuddles me close, pushing my dripping wet hair away from my face, and I peer up at him from under my lashes.

My breath catches in my throat at the warmth I see in his pale blue eyes, the shards of white in them softening his intense stare. Though he is a twin, I could never mistake one for the other. Their personalities are just too different.

The only thing that’s the same between them is the near crippling darkness they carry, each of them struggling to survive in their own way. The twins are so reliant on each other that they can’t live without one another, like they are two parts of the same whole.

“You okay?” Jameson asks gently, his eyes softening in concern as he brushes his fingers across my cheek.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” My skin warms at his touch, and I clear my throat before hastily stepping back, needing distance between us before I do something stupid…like climb back into his arms. Hearing the shower running in the background, I flash him a rueful smile and pull my wet shirt away from my chest. “I needed a shower anyway.”

While the man’s shirt covers me to mid-thigh, the wet material clings to every curve, doing little to disguise my body. I’m so busy plucking at my wet shirt, trying to dry it, that I don’t notice the silence right away. When I glance up, I find Jameson staring very intently at my exposed thighs from where the shirt rode up. After a beat, his gaze slowly travels up my body, landing on the wet fabric molding to my breasts.

Unsurprisingly, my nipples harden under his attention, and I barely resist crossing my arms. I shuffle my feet as an ache builds between my thighs.

The blush on my cheeks deepens, but this time, it’s not from embarrassment.

It’s pure want.

Jameson leans down slowly, his jovial expression shifting to hunger. “Baby, do you ache?”

My breath shudders out of me, and I give him almost an imperceptible nod.

He leans down, then nips my bottom lip hard enough to sting, and I find myself swaying toward him with a moan. My body is on fire. Sure, I’ve touched myself and orgasmed, but it’s a totally different experience when someone else touches me.

He slips an arm around my waist and slides his leg between my thighs. I let out a startled squeak when his hand lands on my panty-covered ass, and he hauls me firmly against him. His erection presses against my stomach, and I squirm at the hard length of him. My movements send his hand slipping inside my panties, and I gasp at the feel of his warm fingers so near my center.

I freeze, mortified that my wiggling had that unintended effect, and I’m not sure if I should apologize or beg him to touch me. Before I can decide on either, his fingers press between my thighs, and my eyes flutter closed on a strangled moan when he slides through my slick folds. Maybe I should be embarrassed by how soaked I am, but I’m just too needy to care.

One finger slowly slips inside me, just enough to tease me, while another reaches farther and circles my clit. I’m not even conscious of rocking against him, seeking more friction. With his knee between my thighs, my legs are forced apart, and I’m helpless to do anything as I chase my pleasure. Between the friction of his touch and the pressure of his knee against my core, I’m aware of nothing but the orgasm rushing toward me.

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