She moaned softly.
Julia let herself go back to the night in her apartment, easily conjuring up the sensation of Lucian pressed against her back, one hand curled around her breast and the other plunging deep inside her. Her pulse pounded as her own fingers mimicked what Lucian had done to her. In. Out. In out. And she let herself fully slip into the fantasy. It wasn’t her hand. It was Lucian’s bringing her to the edge, drawing out the slick wetness until she couldn’t—
Pleasure erupted, licking through her veins as her back arched and hips rose, thrusting against her own hand. She fell back to the bed, her heart racing and breath coming out in ragged puffs as she eased her fingers out.
God.
She’d never come that hard and that fast by herself before. Throat dry, she swallowed hard as she blinked opened her eyes. There was a dull flare of pain along the side of her head. What she’d done probably wasn’t a smart idea, but she couldn’t work up the energy to care. Her body felt wonderfully spent and—
A rush of cool air washed over her body. There was a soft creak that caused every muscle in Julia to lock up. Her wide gaze darted around the darkness as she yanked her top back in place. It sounded like it came by the closet. The door was cracked open, like she’d left it.
Heart now racing for a different reason, she stared at the closet door until her vision blurred. All kinds of insane thoughts filled her mind. What if the sound hadn’t come from the closet but the actual door. That wasn’t locked. One of the brothers could’ve checked on her and she was in the bed, touching herself.
Okay. That was ridiculous. It was way too late for any of them to be checking in on her.
Julia rolled over, facing the door. Thrusting one hand under the pillow, she firmly closed her eyes and ordered herself to go to sleep. Tomorrow morning was going to come soon enough.
She kept her eyes closed, but sleep didn’t come. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling skating over her skin. The sensation that she wasn’t alone in the room.
Then she heard it.
Footsteps from above. The sound was unmistakable.
A frown pulled at her lips as she sat up and stared up at the ceiling, where the fan churned silently. Her hair fell over her shoulders as she tilted her head to the side. The bedroom directly above hers was . . . Madeline’s.
Julia sat very still, straining to hear the noise again. After a few moments, she began to believe that she was hearing things, but then she heard it again. Someone was up in that room, walking around.
Could it be one of the brothers?
Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, she seriously doubted they’d be up there at this time of night. Tossing the blanket off, she swung her legs off the bed and stood.
Training took over. If it were Madeline upstairs walking around, something about her condition had obviously changed. She needed to investigate.
She slipped her feet into a pair of flip-flops and left the bedroom, stepping out into the interior hallway.
Her gaze darted to the wide door catty-corner to hers. Her heart skipped a beat as she veered away from that area. God, he could’ve been right there, a handful of steps away from her while she brought herself to orgasm with images of him—
Ugh.
Stop it.
Pushing thoughts of Lucian out of her head, she hurried down the dimly lit hall. It was wide and the wall sconces did very little to brighten the way. She couldn’t help but think of The Shining.
A shiver danced over her skin.
If two girls on trikes appeared, she was out like a belly button.
Julia reached the staircase and quickly made her way upstairs. The hallway up there was just as freaky as the one below. Each step she took caused the tiny hairs all along her body to rise. A tingle started in just below her neck, between her shoulders.
It reminded her of . . . of being watched.
Biting down on her lip, she glanced behind her. No one else was in the hall. All the doors were shut, but . . .
She shuddered and picked up her pace. Her imagination was getting the best of her after last night. Reaching Madeline’s door, she opened it and quickly came to a stop, scanning the room.
The lamp beside the bed was on, just as Julia had left it, and Madeline was also where she’d left her. Resting peacefully in bed, and nothing else was out—
Chilly air rushed down her arms, stirring the ends of her hair. She turned to the right and saw the curtains covering the porch doors billow and ripple. She inhaled deeply, catching the musty scent of the outdoors.
“What the . . . ?” Her brows slammed down as she crossed the room. Gripping the flimsy white curtains, she pulled them apart.
The doors leading out to the dark porch were wide open. Glancing over her shoulder at Madeline’s prone figure, she really hoped that no one had visited her and had been so careless.
Turning back to the doors, she quietly closed them and then turned the lock. How in the world did these doors get open? Obviously it hadn’t been Madeline. Neither was she the source of the footsteps.
She stepped back from the doors, crossing her arms over her chest. Someone had been up here and it had to be—
The feeling from the hallway returned, that sharp tingle between her shoulder blades. This time it was far stronger, sending a shiver tiptoeing down her spine. The tips of her ears burned.
Her breath caught as she slowly unfolded her arms. A different kind of instinct roared to the surface, screaming at her that she wasn’t alone in the room. That there was someone else in that room and it wasn’t Madeline.
Heart leaping into her throat, she whirled around. Air halted in her lungs. She’d been right. She wasn’t alone.
The very source of her earlier fantasies stood in the doorway.
Lucian.
Chapter 12
Lucian saw Julia before she realized he was standing there. She was in the process of closing the porch doors and her back was to him. He knew she had no idea he was standing there and he also knew he should probably announce his presence, but he remained quiet as sin as he leaned against the doorframe.
It was the first time he was seeing her hair down while it wasn’t wet and clinging to her skin. Her hair was as long as he imagined, reaching down to the middle of her back in messy waves. Her arms were bare; the skin showing was a pale pink. His gaze roamed over the black pants that hugged the curve of her ass. He remembered how she felt pressed against him every damn second of the day.
She appeared to stiffen for a moment and then slowly, she unfolded her arms and she spun around.
Their gazes locked.
Several seconds stretched out between them. Neither of them spoke, and once again, Lucian found himself utterly entranced by the idea of mapping out her features on a board of untouched canvas.
His sister wasn’t the only painter in the family.
But before he could perfectly capture her with paint and brush, he figured he’d need to get up close and personal to really know the curve of her cheek and the line of her jaw. For the sake of art, of course.
“God,” she gasped, finally breaking the silence as she placed her hand against her chest, drawing his avid attention. The material of her shirt did very little to hide those swells or the enticing peaks beneath. “I didn’t even hear you walk in here.”
Closing his eyes at the sound of her voice, he inhaled deeply. Her tone was soft and husky. He would capture the tones in shades of red and brown. Opening his eyes, he dragged his gaze to hers. “Believe it or not, I can be very quiet when I want to be.”
“I can tell.”
“I’m not going to even ask why you’re out of bed,” he said, smiling slightly.
“I thought I heard something,” she said, glancing back at the sleeping Madeline. “I thought I heard someone walking around up here.”
“And did you find anyone walking around?”
Her brows pinched together. “No.”
“I’m not particularly surprised by that.”
A look of confusion flickered across her face. “And why is that?”
“You haven’t heard, Ms. Hughes?”
“Heard what?” she asked after a beat.
“Heard the rumors about this house—about our family?”
One single brow rose as she tilted her chin to the side. “I have no idea where you’re going with any of this, but—”