And like spoiled brothers who grew up with everything being handed to them, they refuse to share. Jake grabs me from behind and sits me in between his legs, dipping his fingers inside my panties and caressing my vulva before he pushes one into my entrance. I gasp sharply, but pleasure overrides pain and I ease into him when he adds another finger and begins to slide in and out. His other hand plays with my breast, but it’s not as pleasing as when Emmet pays them attention and I offer my hand to him.
He looks between us hesitantly. I grab Jake’s manhood and reach for Emmet’s but he shakes his head and instead tries to pull me away from Jake.
“You wanted me.” Emmet says, and I realize they’re still wanting me to pick. “Just admit that you choose me.’
“I could make you scream louder than he ever could, you know that.” Jake says behind me and tightens his hold around my waist.
I try comparing them both but it’s useless. They’re so different, and separately they rouse different parts of me that together makes it feel complete. Jake is far more aggressive, pleasuring my sex directly while taking care of his needs. Emmet’s the passionate one, who uses his mouth to show his love for me, and so far seems to have a bigger interest in my ample bosom. I pull myself away from Jake and put distance between the both of them. It’s impossible, I realize. I could never choose between them.
“Jake makes me laugh when I feel like I’ll never laugh again.” I say. “He brings up the fighter in me, and reminds myself of all the hard work I’ve done to get where I am.” Jake lights up, but I shake my head.
“But Emmet, you make me feel safe. And your love is so pure that it’s like a physical wind I feel every time you look at me.”
“What are you saying then, Remy?” He asks.
“I’m not sure how it happened, but I love the both of you. And it’s not love that’s split in half. It’s full, undivided love that makes it hard to breathe when I’m near just one of you.” I leave the bed and start putting my clothes back on. The twins remain silent. “And though I’m pretty sure I’ll always love you both, I’m not okay with being told to pick and throwing yourselves at me like it’s some sort of competition. It’s not.” I button up my coat and storm out of the master bedroom and rush to the parlor.
“Remy!” They call behind me. I wipe tears that fall freely down my cheeks and pause when I see the gold wrapped present on the table.
“Merry Christmas.” I choke on my words and storm out of the executive suite. They don’t chase me far, and thankfully neither the floor host nor Albert questions me as I run out in mortified tears.
And I only cry harder when I close my apartment door behind me, realizing that I would never see the Kennedys again.
Chapter Thirteen
Boxed wine becomes my best friend the following night once again as I flip through channels of romantic Christmas movies full of happy endings. My popcorn bucket tips over onto the carpet when I fling the remote off of my futon. It’s useless, and I end up watching the last half of Love Actually. Camila calls, and upon hearing the TV in the background she promptly arrives with more wine and candied chocolates.
“You’re the real Santa Claus.” I say. We drink until we’re tipsy.
“David’s been a lot more calm since the owners left, gracias a Dios.” Camila gives me a wary look. “But you’ve been depressed. Anything you’re not telling me?”
I realize I hadn’t told Camila anything about my fatal romance. I’ve done my best at keeping the twins at the back of my mind, a crisis to be dealt with later. But the words come flowing out before I can stop myself, and soon Camila is biting her lip and gasping when I tell her how close I had gotten to sleeping with the both of them.
“But it was obvious they didn’t actually care about pleasuring me. They only cared that the other brother wasn’t.” I complain. Camila finally blinks and lifts her jaw.
“Dios chica, you’ve been living a real telenovela without telling me? It’s a miracle you even passed your classes!” She’s not wrong. I’m surprised I didn’t fail mid terms. “But what now? Are you going to see them again?”
“I blocked their numbers.” I say, and she groans.
“Idiota!” She yells. “You blocked the numbers of two rich hot brothers who both are in love with you?”
“What am I supposed to do? Be with both of them?” I argue back. “Camila this isn’t a Spanish TV show. That’s not how the real world works. I was ready to give both of them my virginity but how would we have done that? They hate taking turns!”