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“Tell me,” I beg in breathless hope.
“First, gotta question, and don’t you dare spew some bullshit lie out of pity. You hear me?” I nod, a little fearful, a lot curious. “Do you love me, Minnow? Like a woman loves a man? No ‘friend’ shit; do you really love me, the same way, just as much, as you love Cole? Do you long to feel me deep inside you, my body on top of yours, my babies growing in your belly? My kiss on your mouth every morning, night, and any other time I need a taste of you?”
Yes, no, yes... and God yes to all the rest.
Tradition is called such for a reason though, and I’m suddenly a masochistic glutton who has to hear his answer, just once, before walking away from them both, for good. So, I measure my every pant until it’s a normal breath, refuse the fire blazing inside me so it won’t announce itself when I speak, and lock stoic eyes on his ravenous pair. “Do you love me like that?”
His ‘yes’ is wordless yet unmistakable, said, rather—and better than a speech written for him by a linguistics expert—with the crashing of his mouth over mine. I’m whisked up and off my feet, his two, sturdy handfuls of my ass used to hold me hostage against him as he devours my mouth.
For a moment, I’m so lost in blissful delirium, that I still half-fear might be a dream, that I can only accept, allow, the long-overdue ravaging. Then all at once, a punch of potent desire awakens me… and every part of my body… my mind insistent that I jump in and participate.
Starved hunger at last fed, I don’t just kiss him back—I attack—vying for control. Taking fast, but craving sweet and slow. Delving deep while yearning for shallow teases and nips. I grab his cheeks and tilt his head to work the angle, needing more, deeper… swallowing his strained chuckle. He indulges me, for much longer than I expected, before finally losing his grip on restraint. Now, our tongues duel, a battle of wills… and willpower. A loud, swift slap on my ass shatters the haze and I jolt back and yelp.
“Did you… did you just spankme?” I gasp in spurts. He nods, half-lidded eyes dancing with smug superiority. “Um, why?”
“If I tell you to kiss me, then You. Kiss. Me, Minnow. Lay it on me, woman, best ya’ got. Until then? I. Kiss. You. Any time, place, or way I want. And you take it. I love your spunk, that sassy lil’ mouth of yours, but not when I’m fuckin’ it with mine. Understood?”
Yes, control freak. “No.”
Strike two—another sharp, arousing swat to my ass—that he delivers while smirking. “Liar,” he fucks my ear in a husky timbre of sin.
My lip curls in frisky taunt, suddenly bowing to a frown as cognition hits me.
Cole.
Cabot.
Love. Lust. Give. Take.
And impossible.
I push off Cabot’s chest, my feet blindly finding the ground as hot tears build fast behind my eyelids. Turning to run away… away from all I want and nothing I can have… I’m stopped dead in my tracks by a large wall of man.
Cole.
A feral, enraged Cole. Unbridled domination exuding off him as he captures me in a merciless hold. “For fuck’s sake, Emery, what’s with all the damn running? Don’t know when or why you picked up this new little habit, but I will break you of it. And just where’d ya think you were headed anyway?”
“And why haven’t you answered my question?” Cabot’s body heat on my back joins his gruff voice.
Trapped, literally, in between the Keller twins. Trapped, mentally, between Heaven and Hell, unsure whether to surrender to the lustful ideas flooding my mind or shudder in panic.
“Say something, Em,” Cole prompts, gliding a hand up my arm.
“Now,” Cabot commands, the trace of his fingertip across my stomach much gentler than his voice.
“You, this, it isn’t fair,” I ramble, a high-pitched squeak of nerves. “I was headed… anywhere but here! And no, Cabot, I don’t love you the same as Cole. Not possible; you’re two different people! But, yes, I love you every bit as much. That’s the problem! Don’t you see? There’s no good answer, no happy ending, for any of us!” I thrash violently to escape their confines, a wasted effort. “Let me go. For good! I won’t choose. I can’t!”
What’s crazy, besides me, is that, with my outburst… comes unexpected relief. Years of caged worry, want, pain, jealousy, and love finally set free, no longer my hidden burden to carry alone. But now, left behind, is a huge empty space, crater, inside me… that rapidly fills with numbness.
Void of sensation, of any sort.
Which is probably why—for the first time ever—I couldn’t answer if asked, which of them says it… rich, throaty, and slathered in depravity. “What if you didn’t have to?”
