Page 90 of Chase

“Coffee or tea?” she asked.

“Coffee, please,” we replied in unison.

“Sugar and milk are on the table.” She filled each white cup then walked away. I stood and began making the three drinks. Two sets of eyes watched me prepare their individual cups to their liking. My nipples budded beneath my bra as the intensity of having both men staring as if I were their last meal hit home.

Fuck, that is what I want.

Both of them.

Am I greedy? Maybe.

But it’s as essential as the air I breathe.

“Thanks,” Connor said, lifting his drink and sipping. Russell acknowledged me with a wink and brushed my panties with his fingers. His brother took my hand closest to him, linking our fingers and laying them on the table. I giggled to myself, and they both gave me a look that requested a reason for the random noise. I shook my head and bit my lip, trying to contain more chuckles.

Their treatment of me at breakfast was so apt considering their personalities. The way they handled my body, both of them with love and care, but differently. Connor held my hand and pulled out my chair. Russell grabbed my leg and his fingers strayed to my pussy. If every morning could be like that, it would be perfect.

“Did you have a good night?” Russell asked his brother. A familiar annoyance flashed in Connor’s eyes. I know he buries his head in the sand most of the time with our situation.

“I always have a good night with Sam. She’s the perfect teddy bear.” Russell bristled, pissed by the reminder I assume, that Connor slept in my bed while he had a different suite. This time, Connor leaned in, his breath tickling my flesh. “I’m glad you didn’t put your pajamas back on. You feel so much better in my arms naked.”

“Stop it,” I hissed. “Both of you. Last night was special; don’t ruin a perfect experience.”

“It won’t be happening again,” Connor mumbled. His eyes moved between Russell and me, the expression unreadable beyond the obvious struggle.

“What won’t be?” My chest ached, saddened by his words.

“What we did last night. When I’m with you, I want you all to myself. All fucking night. I don’t believe I’m a man built to share what’s his.”

“I don’t know,” Russell said, pushing back in his seat. “I could get used to tag-teaming. Maybe it’s something to consider? You take one end, and I’ll fuck the other. I don’t really have a preference as long as her hole is wet.”

“No.” Connor stood. His chair crashed backward, smashing against the tiles. He placed his hands on the table, gripping the fabric. “Once, Russell. Once for her. Never again. That’s what we agreed. I told you I would do this once.” His eyes streamed with hurt and confusion, and they flitted to me. I wilted under his unusually stern expression.

“It’s not as if we were all together,” Russell countered. “You had your privacy.”

“But I knew you had been there. Sam, you need to choose,” he said. “If it’s not me, then break my heart before I fall for you more.” He stepped back and started walking away, then paused and looked over his shoulder. “Not that I think I could love you more than I do now. I’ve loved you since the beginning, and it’s grown daily. The thought of losing you destroys me. It’s been my greatest fear since I knew you wanted him, probably before you knew yourself. I would hate to live the reality.”

Since that morning I’ve stayed at home. I haven’t seen either of them, needing time to consider what I would do. Tonight was meant to be my time to connect with Connor and hash things out, though I have no idea what that conversation will look like. My head tells me that perhaps the kindest thing I can do is walk away from both of them. My heart screams for me to sort out a solution that suits us all.

Right now, no permanent arrangement seems possible. Perhaps finding love with two men was too good to be true. It’s not as wonderful as the romance books predict it will be. With the wrong people involved, what could be a heavenly situation for some turns into nothing more than a love triangle that will break all our hearts.

Nine o’clock flashes on the digital clock in the kitchen, and I call Connor’s number again. It rings out. Deciding I have no other choice, I leave his apartment and head for the penthouse. I know Russell is home. He messaged me earlier to say I could meet him later if I wasn’t satisfied with my on-rota boyfriend. I’d rolled my eyes at my phone and not replied. He sent me a dick pic ten minutes later. What an idiot, but he made me laugh.

Outside the elevator, I swipe the black key-card over the pad. Russell's free access to his home had been a monumental step for both of us. The doors glide open, and the cabin rises the short distance, one floor up.

I find Russell sprawled on his sofa, watching his immense television. In his lap is a bowl of chips. He stuffs a handful into his mouth then lifts the beer in his hand to wash the food down. Wearing only his boxers, he looks like a college student still in the first throws of independence. His eyes flick over as I walk across his living room, and his mouth twists with amusement.

“Bored already, Trouble?” he asks. “If I’d known you would visit, I would have made myself presentable.”

“It’s Connor,” I say. He immediately sits up, switches off the television, and turns to face me. He focuses on my face with intense eyes.

“What’s happened?” His tone is sharp and tense.

“He’s not come home.” Russell shrugs, then throws himself back on his sofa, unconcerned. “He was meant to be back hours ago.”

“Connor lost a case today. A big one. If the firm weren’t partly his, I’d probably fire him.” Russell swigs his drink again. “Get yourself a beer and come sit down. No doubt he’ll call you when he arrives.”

“He’s not answering his phone,” I continue, ignoring his complete lack of alarm. “He always answers.”

---