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  And he did other things too. Delightful, orgasm-inducing things—like finding one spiky nipple with his thumb and forefinger, then pinching and tugging until her entire body bucked. All of which Sebastian obviously appreciated, because the moment she shoved back against him she heard him tell Tobias to do it harder.

  “Lick your fingers, then do it,” he said, while every strange feeling she’d ever had about this arrangement barreled through her. How could they just talk like that, to each other? How could they do this so easily—because of course Tobias did exactly as his twin had suggested.

  He licked his thumb and forefinger, then slid his hand through the open collar of her blouse to rub and worry and pluck at her stiff nipples. And he kept doing it as his brother fucked into her hard, pushing and thrusting and shoving until the pleasure started uncoiling again, low in her belly.

  This time, however, it was Tobias who knew. She felt him hot and breathless against the side of her face, one big arm curled around her back as her orgasm began to break.

  “Don’t stop—she’s coming.”

  Somehow, him saying the words made it even more intense. Like before, when all of their talking over her and finishing each other’s sentences had pushed things to another, probably perverted level.

  It couldn’t be denied. It turned her on to have them both like this, and no amount of ignoring her phone and avoiding Christian Carter could stop that understanding from coming. She wanted them both. She needed them both like this, and the knowledge just made her want to go limp against Tobias, something like exhausted and sort of relieved sobs coming out of her mouth.

  Of course when she did so, it didn’t have quite the effect she’d been hoping for.

  “Hey, Bobbi—it’s okay. It’s fine. Look—what I wanted us to say to you before this moron stepped in was that we don’t have to do this stuff. We can just stop, and be friends, and not speak of it ever again, you know?”

  She rubbed her face over his old sweatshirt, so worn and sharp with the smell of him. Wound up with her cheek pressed against his upper arm, as he stroked a soothing hand down over her back and Sebastian did the same to the soft curve of her hip.

  It felt so good. So safe.

  “That’s sweet, Tobe,” she said, voice still lazy with pleasure. Everything in her sure, absolutely sure. “But what happens if I want to?”

  Chapter Five

  Neither of them answered for the longest time, and when they finally did it wasn’t with anything she’d been expecting. Her own head was full of a kind of crazy back and forth, between that certainty beneath it all—that she wanted to—and the fizzing knowledge of what wanting to meant, always just above it.

  Wanting to meant that she’d have to deal with people like Christian Carter, sooner or later, and once they’d given her their own cool, not-fizzing-with-issues responses—pretty much variations on that’s okay—she had to ask another question.

  One that wasn’t quite as welcome, and more than a little stomach-churning.

  “Do you think he knew?”

  They both answered at the same time, with different things. Sebastian with who and Tobias with knew what?

  “Christian Carter. Did he know…you know.”

  “That you’re incapable of eating cake like a normal person? Pretty much, yeah. Don’t know how he could have failed to notice that,” Sebastian said, and Tobias followed him swiftly after.

  “You did try to gargle with it. Is our cake really that bad?”

  “We spent hours on that.”

  “Hours.”

  “And you just smeared it all over your face. What’s that about?”

  She kicked one, and punched the other.

  “Hey—violence.”

  “Seriously. Aggression, Bobbi. Not cool.”

  She rolled her eyes and settled back into the nook she’d found for herself. Somehow they’d wound up all tangled together on the bed, her head on Sebastian’s chest, Tobias’ head on her stomach. An arm around her shoulders and her right leg and maybe several other body parts too.

  And then Sebastian started stroking through her hair, and Tobias had a hand beneath her knee—just right where it verged on the point of tickling—and that little nagging voice that kept whispering Christian Carter in her ear abated, somewhat.

  It didn’t even come back after she realized she could hear something, either.

  “You know, your heart’s really pounding away there, chief.”

  It was. It sounded like a giant’s footsteps ringing out inside his chest.

  He didn’t seem to want to talk about it, however.

  “Weird,” he said, then started shifting from underneath her. “I’m just going to get a drink.”

  Of course, the moment he stood she saw it. And though her first instinct was to be ashamed of herself for leaving him in such an obvious state, her second overtook it.

  “Holy crap—you still have an erection? We just laid on the bed for half an hour talking about cake.”

  He stopped in the middle of the room, but didn’t turn to face her. Not that it mattered—she could have made out that shape beneath his robe from across a continent. It looked impressively lewd, all barely pulled in like that.

  “Yeah—it’ll pass,” he said, then actually waved his hand. Like oh, don’t worry about the five dollars you owe me. You can buy me a beer next time we meet up.

  “It’ll pass? Like what—the flu?”

  She tried to push her way up the bed, and get into a far more authoritative sitting position. Tobias was making it hard, however. He didn’t seem to want to budge from her stomach, and then after a second he contributed to the discussion.

  “Don’t worry about it, Bobs.”

  Though what he was contributing she had no idea. Don’t worry about it? What did that mean? It made even less sense than the whole “my erection is a mild contagion” thing that Sebastian had gone with.

  “Okay,” she said, the minute she finally got free of Tobias and his immensely heavy head. She even spread her hands, for extra emphasis. “I’ve got to admit. I’m starting to get a little nervous about the fact that neither of you seem to want me anywhere near your nether parts. I mean—you do actually have penises, right? I’m not going to find everything smoothed over down there, am I?”

  Sebastian threw up his hands. Gave his brother a withering, withering look.

  “Great. Great. She thinks we’re Ken dolls.”

  “I don’t think you’re Ken dolls. Or at least, I am fervently hoping that you are not.”

  Tobias shook his head and shifted around on the bed until he almost had his back to her. Elbow propping him up. Legs trailing off the bed. Probable erection only around two feet away.

  “It’s nothing weird, Bobbi,” he said, after a second. Which just made her think that maybe it was. Obviously they had cocks, and clearly everything worked in the way it was supposed to.

  So what did that leave? Strange emotional issues? Strange emotional issues that had something to do with being twins and having sex with the same girl and oh God, oh God. It was the mirror thing, wasn’t it?

  They wanted to watch someone with their own faces fucking a girl. Or worse.

  “Honestly, Bobbi, it’s totally nothing,” Sebastian added, but that just made the panicky, itchy sort of feeling grow. She’d just started getting used to the idea and now there was this, whatever this was.

  “Are you sure? Because I’ve gotta tell you, fellas, my mind is now going to some weird places. I mean, if this is all just some weird experiment where you fuck each other through me—”

  Sebastian snapped a word out first. And he put a ton of air behind it, too, just to give it that extra bit of disgusted oomph. “What?”

  Tobias turned his head and looked right at her, that same are you really eating cake that way look on his face.

  “Did you just say fuck each other?”

  “Ew, incest.”

  “Gross, Bobbi. So gross.”

  “More than gross.�
��

  “We don’t want to fuck each other,” Tobias said, then Sebastian finished the thought before he could.

  “We just want to fuck you.”

  Though once he had, Tobias lasered such a look at his twin. His voice came out fierce and abrupt too, like a jab to the chest.

  “Hey—what did we say? Cool it on the fuck-talk, okay?”

  Sebastian’s expression went directly to affronted.

  “So what was I supposed to say there? We want to take her out to a ball game?”

  “Just don’t say fuck!”

  “Fine—Bobbi, we just want to make love to you. We want to make love your brains out.”

  She almost laughed, then suppressed it at the last second. They were deadly serious about this, after all. They’d had conversation in which they discussed how best to not fuck-talk her.

  “That’s awesome. I was hoping you’d make love the shit out of me. But if we’re all in agreement on that, how come you’re not doing it?”

  Silence, then. They exchanged looks—Sebastian all busy-eyed and obviously trying to telepathically tell his twin something, Tobias as closed down as always. Of course, Sebastian broke first.

  “Look, here’s the thing,” he said, while her entire body went on tenterhooks. What was the thing? “When we do something to you, it’s easy. But you do something to us, and it’s sort of like…double the work.”

  Seriously. That was the thing?

  Apparently so, because Tobias agreed, after a second.

  “More than that, really, because you’re like half our size to begin with.”

  Sebastian nodded.

  “It’s a lot of…toiling, frankly.”

  She didn’t know what to say to any of it. Clearly they’d gone mad. She’d spent three days worried about the implications of a threesome with twins, and agonizing over her own relative levels of attractiveness, and here they were concerned about something people did in the sixteenth century with ploughs?

  “You think that I see this whole business as toiling? In what? The fields?”

  They exchanged looks again, but this time there was a lot more confusion there.

  “Well…no,” Sebastian started.

  “We don’t know how you see this. After three days with no contact we were starting to wonder if you considered us gigantic perverts who’d corrupted your immortal soul.”

  Of course, his words made her realize something pretty fundamental. Something she should have thought of ages ago—just because they seemed confident and handsome and perfect, didn’t mean they were.

  She put a hand to her forehead.

  “Guys, no. God no, I don’t think you’re perverts. I was just…” She tried to think of the appropriate words. Afraid of my own feelings? Unsure of what your feelings were? Concerned I was making you do something illegal just about everywhere? “Nervous.”

  Sebastian nodded.

  “Because of the toiling.”

  “And our overall hugeness.”

  “And how fast this is going, into some pretty weird territory.”

  On the first two comments, she felt an almost-laughing protest rising in her throat—because seriously, what did they think this was? But by the time Sebastian had gotten to the last one, the laugh was kind of dying a bit. Just a little bit.

  “You think this is weird, right?” Tobias asked, finally. Though he didn’t really need the question mark. She could feel the answer showing on her face, as her thoughts shot back and forth between a whole bunch of stuff. Excitement, terror, amusement. It seemed like a miracle that her facial muscles hadn’t fainted from exhaustion.

  “Well…a little bit. Yeah. But realistically, I could never decide between you. I don’t want to decide between you. I mean, is that what you want me to do?”

  She thought about how things would be with either of them. The thrill of Tobias actually sharing his feelings, seven years into their relationship. The absolute awesomeness of Sebastian telling her he loved her while giving her a high-five, on their first date.

  And it was a relief when they both said no at the same time.

  “Look, Bobs—if we were one person, we could have asked you out months ago. Maybe gone for coffee or to dinner someplace nice, held hands, kissed on the walk home, done all of that stuff like normal couples do…”

  She flinched over the word normal. Couldn’t help it. Didn’t want to.

  “But we can’t,” Tobias added, before Sebastian finished it off for him.

  “Because we’re two.”

  * * * * *

  “So what do we do now?”

  She asked the question after Sebastian had returned with his drink—a massive Scotch, obviously—and Tobias had decided he needed one too. Of course, most of her was still fizzing inside from the last thing they’d told her, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to say what she wanted to.

  Do I really mean that much to you? So much that you couldn’t possibly accept the idea of me dating just one of you, while the other ate his own heart out?

  Is that the thing we’re talking about here?

  No, no, no, she couldn’t possibly get any deeper into that. It was practically terrifying to think of it—that both of them felt so strongly on the matter. Far better to go with something safe instead.

  Though it didn’t exactly remain so, once it was out there.

  “Well, I can think of a couple of things,” Sebastian said, after draining his glass. He set it down on the bedside table and made himself more comfortable on the pillows he’d propped up, everything about him so suddenly relaxed.

  Apart from his large and still frankly obvious erection.

  It made her wonder if he’d actually done anything about the state he’d gotten himself into, a few nights ago. Or had he just let his intense horniness go on, like torture only brilliant?

  It felt brilliant, when she thought about it. All she had to do was picture him sprawled in his bed, mostly naked, one hand lazily stroking his cock. Never letting himself get there, but always appreciating the effort.

  And then a heated pulse went through her body, wiping out her ability to respond to him.

  Of course, Tobias took it the wrong way.

  “Sebastian, Jesus,” he said, and she felt pretty sure he’d have thrown a third shoe at his brother, if he’d had it. Apparently he took his job as guardian of her virtue very seriously.

  “What? They’re perfectly innocent things.”

  “Does Bobbi have to be naked to do any of them?”

  Sebastian’s eyes slid sideways and up.

  “No,” he said, but after a moment of consideration, “sort of.”

  “Then stop.”

  It really made her wonder just when Tobias had decided to keep Sebastian so fiercely in check. Of course he did it on all sorts of other occasions—when Sebastian wanted to attack his history professor with a chair, for example—but this was different.

  This felt…planned.

  “Can I just ask—what sort of conversations have you guys been having about this? Because I can’t help picturing Sebastian brainstorming ways to approach my vagina, and you shooting them all down as either crass, or like hitting Professor Markson with a chair.”

  “I wasn’t actually going to hit him with it. I just…picked it up in the heat of the moment.”

  She shot him a withering look. Tobias didn’t even bother. He just carried on sipping his Scotch, body now almost diagonal across the end of the bed. Anything he had between his legs hidden beneath the curve of his body.

  “You do see why I worry for your vagina, right? It’s possible he wants to hit it with a chair.”

  She couldn’t help laughing. He still seemed unsure about the whole thing, but not unsure enough to lose his sense of humor.

  “Nice. Thanks for that,” Sebastian said, and she had to admit—it made her giggle harder to see him look so sulky about it. As though she really thought he wanted to call her vagina the worst professor on campus.

  “Look, B
obs—we honestly never came up with some sort of plan. The blindfold, the guessing—we didn’t organize it, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “We’d talked about how we might go about things, but—” Sebastian started.

  Tobias cut him off, however. “Personally, I just wanted to ask you. See if you’d maybe consider…I don’t know.”

  “Having a threesome?” Sebastian offered, which fit as good as anything. What else were you supposed to call it, realistically?

  Tobias didn’t seem to appreciate the term, however.

  “Yeah, thanks Seb. Great job on the ‘let’s be tactful with her’ front.”

  So that was one talking point they’d gone over. How to not make social blunders when asking your friend for a three-way. Clearly, however, Sebastian hadn’t listened.

  “I think we’re past tact and all the way into doing dirty things to each other,” he said, and it made her squirm a little. It did. But at the same time, he wasn’t wrong. You couldn’t tiptoe around things after finger-fucking your friend over a bed.

  “Yeah, we probably buzzed by it about one and a half sex acts ago. I mean—seriously. You guys have seen me naked. Both of you still have erections. The jig is up.”

  In response, Tobias said, “I honestly didn’t think you could see that.”

  While Sebastian went with, “I swear to God, it just won’t fucking go down. I’m starting to think I’m ill.”

  She didn’t know which idiot to answer first.

  “Seb—in your cock’s defense, you’ve twice done something without giving it anything in return. It’s probably dying of starvation.” Neither of them seemed to know how to respond to that, expression-wise, so she just plunged right on ahead. “I mean, you must be pretty frustrated by now.”

  Sebastian gave her a look best described as no clue what you’re talking about. Tobias narrowed his eyes, as though considering. Both would have made absolutely fantastic mimes.

  “Not really,” Sebastian said.

  “Doing fine over here,” Tobias added.

  They would have also made fantastic teases, in a very strange sort of burlesque show. Did burlesque shows even make corsets in size two hundred and twelve?