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"I do aim to be mysterious."
I scoff. "Well, you're horrible at it because I have you all figured out."
He arches a brow. "Do tell."
"Children, children," Jeremiah cuts in. "Lexa's lost her room card and can't get a new room tonight, so I offered to let her sleep in my room, and I'll share with you."
"I'm shocked you came here at all." Ezekiel chuckles. More like snickers.
"And why is that?" I cross my arms and ask.
"Because you're so damn afraid of us."
"I'm not afraid of you."
It's not a total lie. I'm not scared of him or Jeremiah. I'm afraid of the way I feel when they're around. How aware my body is. How excited I get. How hard I have to fight not to feel more.
"Really?" He walks further into the room, closer to me. "Because it seems like you have something to say about everything, and definitely have an opinion about most things. But when it comes to me and my brother, you run the first chance you get. And it's really hard to believe you right now when you're barely made eye contact since the party."
"What party would that be?" Jeremiah inquires, but his tone makes it entirely too clear that he knows damn well what party. He's just baiting his brother, and more importantly, me.
"The party where she told everyone her fantasy is to have sex with two men," Ezekiel answers. Assholes.
"Oh, that party." Jeremiah grins.
"My fantasy has nothing to do with either of you," I insist. "I don't remember mentioning an Ezekiel or a Jeremiah when I said what my fantasy was. So, remind me again, what my fantasy has to do with either of you?"
"I think we have made it abundantly clear we like to share women," Jeremiah says. "And luckily for you, we want that woman to be you."
I give him a deadpan face. "Luckily for me? Don't flatter yourself."
He smirks. "Well, you won't let us flatter you, so..."
"Because she's scared if we get too close, she'd let us fulfill that fantasy," Ezekiel adds.
"More like I'm worried you'd let me down and ruin it," I lie.
Not a single part of me, and certainly not the part between my thighs that is throbbing right now, thinks they would diminish that fantasy.
"I can assure you that wouldn't be the case," Jeremiah says.
"Better yet, let us prove it to you," Ezekiel insists.
"What?" I damn near squeak.
"One night," Ezekiel presses.
"I don't think that's smart."
"Tonight, even," he continues as if I never said a word. "Pick a bed."
"Doesn't matter which one," Jeremiah cuts in. "Either one is big enough for us to show you how good fantasies made real can be."
Heat rushes through me so fast and intensely, it feels like it's consuming me. I've run from this for months, denying my attraction to them, pushing aside my yearning for them, and absolutely ignoring the way my body aches for them. What if I just...gave in? Gave myself one night with them? Let myself fall into even just one of the many things I've imagined doing with them? Would it be worth it? Somehow, I know it would. Would I regret it? That's what I'm unsure of, and I hate that uncertainty.
As if they can feel the war within me, they're both suddenly moving. Jeremiah comes in front of me, seeming like he's towering above me more than ever. Ezekiel is behind me, making me all too aware that the only thing separating him from me is a towel. And it does nothing to hide the fact that he's hard. I look down, wanting to see if Jeremiah is too. The evidence of his arousal is clear in his tented sweatpants.
"All you have to do is say yes," Jeremiah says low, making me look back up, into his eyes.
