Page 109 of Haunted Spurs

Selene

"Shh!"

Carolina's arm shoots out, stopping us dead in the kitchen doorway.

Ron and I halt abruptly. He immediately rests a hand on the small of my back, stopping a millimeter behind me. I look down at Carolina: she's wearing yet another skimpy t-shirt. This one is black, cropped above the navel, with bold white letters that read: SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A TWIN.

She gives us a frantic head nod toward the scene unfolding inside the room.

It looks like someone hit the pause. Cole, Cade, Indya, Levi, and Emma are all scattered between the stove and the coffee maker, but no one is actually doing anything. They're all chuckling under their breath, exchanging looks, pretending to be busy.

Melusine is lounging casually on the counter. Her ankles are crossed, dangling over the edge, and a diabolical, almost feral smirk is plastered on her lips. She's watching Lucien.

Who is sitting at the table across from her, his elbows resting on the wood, busy cutting into and eating a massive stack of pancakes.

He chews calmly. Then, suddenly, he stops. He swallows slowly, his eyebrows knitting together in an expression of pure, lethal suspicion. He lifts his gaze from his plate and locks it dead onto his sister's face.

Oh. Holy. Shit.

I hold my breath, only now noticing what Melusine is holding.

She's pulled out a neon pink plastic tube. A tube of strawberry-flavored personal lubricant. She runs her thumb over the plastic cap, running her nail over the surface in a slow, circular, terrifyingly and deliberately sensual motion.

The air in the kitchen suddenly becomes highly flammable.

"What the fuck did you do?" he roars. His voice is a low, raspy thunderclap that rattles the mugs on the shelves. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Melusine doesn't back down an inch. Her smile widens, sharp and venomous.

"I thought you might need a little... lube," she murmurs, her voice oozing sarcasm and pure provocation, tilting her head to the side. "You know, for that giant stick you constantly have shoved up your ass. So... I glazed your pancakes for you."

Cade chokes on a sip of coffee in the corner. Ron, behind me, lets out a silent, strangled laugh into my hair.

Lucien stands up.

The wooden chair scrapes violently against the floor. In three strides he's towering in front of the counter, trapping her. He plants both hands flat on the marble, right on either side of Melusine's thighs, locking her in a cage.

He lowers his face a breath away from hers. Lucien's dark eyes drop to Melusine's lips, lingering in a way that is absolutely not brotherly.

"I think you might need it, too," he whispers in a guttural growl, his breath brushing her face.

Melusine stares at him, her breathing suddenly turning shallow and visible beneath her t-shirt. But her pride doesn't cave.

"Fuck you, Lucien," she hisses against his lips.

Lucien doesn't flinch. He lifts one hand off the counter, extends two fingers, and gathers a thick, sticky glob of pink lubricant from the plate he set down next to her.

Then, he brings his hand back to her face.

He presses his lube-coated thumb right against her lower lip. He presses firmly, smearing her mouth with glossy pink. Melusine gasps, trying to pull her face back, but he stops her, slipping his other hand behind her neck to hold her steady.

"Eat," he orders.

Melusine's eyes go wide, rebelling for a second, but he presses his thumb harder, forcefully parting her lips.

Under his burning gaze, she surrenders. She opens her mouth and takes Lucien's finger inside. She sucks on it slowly to clean off the strawberry glaze, her eyes locked onto his in a silent challenge reeking of perversion and pure desperation.

Emma, standing next to Carolina, has her mouth hanging open so wide she's risking a dislocated jaw. She's as white as a sheet.