Chapter Six

The numbers printed on her skin enticed Lillian as she sat in her favorite restaurant. She had a half glass of Pinot Noir to her right, an empty bottle to her left. A small salad sat in front of her untouched.

I should have eaten the cookie at this point, she thought.

Her cell phone was on the booth next to her, looking tempting as ever in the dimly lit Italian bistro. Lillian grabbed her wine and swirled the burgundy liquid slowly. Inhaling it over the scent of coffee that had dried into her black dress. She brought the glass to her mouth and swallowed it. She grazed her fingers over the screen on the bench, and it lit up brightly. The time, eight thirty, appeared in large white numbers over a picture of her accepting an Effie award. Her smile beamed in the photo, being one of the more prestigious marketing awards. She was at the top of her game then, and unstoppable. It was only a year ago, but it felt like a lifetime.

Lillian was rarely distracted. That is why she was so successful. Her professionalism and drive had advanced her to the top in a rapid pace, and she proved herself with her competition steadily over her career. It irritated her that lately her work had her feeling as if she was phoning it in. Knowing she needed to get her mind straight, and take control of her situation. She unlocked the screen and studied the numbers on her wrist. The spot where Triston had placed his lips was covered in the decision she had to make.

Before she could pick up her phone, her waiter appeared and slid a plate of Fra Diavolo in front of her. He motioned to the salad, and she nodded politely.

“Yes, I am finished with that,” she said kindly.

“Was everything okay Miss?” he said, staring at the full plate of greens.

“Yes, sorry I have no appetite unfortunately,” she said flustered.

“Would you like me to box the pasta?” he asked.

“No, that’s alright,” she said, “Another glass of Pinot and the check please.”

The waiter looked at her surprised. “So leave the pasta?”

“No,” she laughed. “Actually, you take it, don’t throw it away, it looks perfect, I am just not hungry for this right now.”

Lillian knew what she was hungry for, and slid her hand atop the cool screen again. 

“Thank you Miss,” 

He disappeared with the plates and brought back the wine and bill as requested. Lillian noticed he had given her a large discount and she smiled at the kind gesture.

Sipping the wine, she programmed the Andeno twins into her phone. The liquid lit the fire inside of her, and gave her a new found boldness.

She created a group message and hit send.

When you said you would do anything, what exactly does that entail?

Surveying her words, she wondered if it was a mistake. The feeling hardly had time to settle, her screen lit up twice with replies.

She saw Triston’s response first.

Anything.

Atticus was second. It was an address. 

Lillian had an Uber pick her up outside the restaurant. After the wine, she didn’t need to be wandering the streets alone and compromised. She already felt like her decision making skills weren’t trustworthy. It did not take long for the gray sedan to pull up in front of a large chic structure, plastered with windows. Lillian looked up. It was one of the taller skyscrapers lining the sky. Suddenly dizzy, she grabbed the door handle and emerged out into the cool air. It was not too late to turn back to the car and go home.

Hesitating, the driver forced her hand and sped off into the busy streets. The wind blew at her back, causing her long dark hair to umbrella forward, temporarily blinding her. Before she could stumble, she straightened herself up, and wiggled the black fabric farther down her thigh. Running her hands through her hair and taming it backward, she approached the large glass doors.

There was a round man behind the marble concierge. He looked up at her and grinned. The nametag on his coat said Raymond.

“Good evening,” he boomed across the floor. His voice echoed in the large lobby.

Lillian walked closer, her stilettos clicked anxiously across the ceramic tile. It seemed so empty compared to her own apartment entrance. There were more windows than actual walls, and Raymond looked oddly out of place in such a stylish foyer.

“How can I assist you?” he asked.

“Andeno?” she asked, unsure if it was the right thing to say.

“Of course,” Raymond smiled again, “Penthouse floor.” He waved his arm toward two large steel elevators to her right.

The accent to the top of the large building was fast, and she had little time to weigh her decision to come here. She went to pull her skirt down again, but stopped herself. Instead, yanking the fabric up a little higher on her sculpted thigh.

When the elevator opened she was shocked to step into an large space, with a solid oak door encapsulating her between the elevator. A silver monogrammed A was set in the massive wooden barrier, a buzzer sat to the right of the handle.

Lillian looked around nervously, she turned to get back inside the lift and flee down to the lobby. Stepping forward a voice came from the sky.

“You made it all the way here, at least come in for a drink,” it said.

Lillian looked toward the sound, and spotted a camera and speaker in the corner of the ceiling above the elevator.

She didn’t bother hiding her frown and waved at the red light.

The door clicked behind her.

One of the brothers opened it wide. “I have to admit, I’m surprised that you came.”

“Me too,” she said, stepping inside.

He walked further into the large room. His steps echoed off the clean floor. The door softly closed behind her, the sound of an automatic lock clicked, making her jump. Lillian was taken back by the massive penthouse. The living room sat ahead of her, a fireplace to the left, a large sectional in the center. There was an open kitchen to her right with a rustic barnwood breakfast bar and matching dining table. There were black iron sconce lighting gracing the walls behind her, in front of her was nothing but windows. From the living room to the eatery, the entire wall was glass. 

“What’s your preference?” The Andeno brother was standing next to a wet bar set into the wall to her left. Lillian had to step over to see the selections. 

“I’ve been drinking red wine,” she said hesitantly. 

“Wonderful,” he said.

He pressed an intercom on the wall and spoke. “Triston, please grab a bottle of red on your way in,” he turned and looked at her. 

“What do you prefer, Miss Lilly?”

“Pinot Noir would be nice,” she said.

Lillian couldn’t wrap her head around the size of this place. As Atticus relayed the information, she walked closer to the fireplace, then to the window, setting her purse down on the large coffee table.

The city was just dots below them, she felt divine floating over the people below.

Atticus walked up to the fireplace, a tumbler of brown liquor in his hand. The single ice cube clinked with his steps. 

“The view is what sold the place,” he said quietly.

Lillian nodded. “I did not realize your gym was this successful.”

“Actually, the gym is just one of our businesses, mainly run by my pop and Triston. I just pitch in with my business degrees when they need me.

“I have been pretty successful in the past with certain ventures,” Atticus said.

The wall by the wet bar slid open, exposing a hallway. Triston approached steadily, a bottle of wine and three stem glasses in his hand. He was wearing a black cotton tee shirt and dark blue jeans. Opposite his brothers dress clothes. The wall slid back into place as he emerged into the living room. Lillian’s mouth hung open at the camouflaged door. 

“Pretty high tech,” Triston smiled at her, and approached offering two glasses.

He looked at Atticus’s whiskey and set the extra stem on the slate coffee table. Reaching in his pocket and pulling out a wine key, he began to peel the foil off the bottle.

The cork made a small popping sound, causing Lillian to flinch. She was already buzzed from the bistro, and now seeing both of them standing so close, her head was spinning.

“Relax Lilly,” Atticus stepped closer, and put a hand on her bare shoulder, “let’s have a drink, and some conversation.”

Lillian’s hands were full of glassware, as Triston poured the red, she allowed Atticus’s hand to remain on her skin.

Triston placed the bottle down next to the extra glass, and turned to accept his wine from Lillian. She couldn’t stop it from trembling. Atticus squeezed her lightly, then released, raising his glass.

“Yamas,” they both said in unison. 

Lillian laughed out, both men glanced at her quizzically. 

“That’s going to take some getting used to,” she said, “what is Yamas?”

“It is a Greek toast,” Triston explained.

“It means to our health” Atticus said.

“Okay,” Lillian lifted her wine, “Yamas.”

Both men snickered at her. The bottle she had  finished at dinner was affecting her movements, and annunciation.

“Lilly, how many glasses of wine have you had already?” Atticus asked concerned. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said. Her snarky comment made his eyes light up. She knewl he had been the one with the towel. Atticus had that glow in his eyes at her sass. Triston just watched the exchange.

Lillian stepped closer to Triston, leaving Atticus staring at her in silence, she put a hand gently on his arm. 

“Shall we sit?” She asked innocently.

Triston glanced at his brother confused. Atticus nodded and they joined her on the oversized sectional, both men sat across from Lillian. They waited patiently for her next move.

“It is remarkable how much you two look alike,” she said, slowly sipping her glass.

She looked down at the bottle, the wine was delicious. 

“Yeah, you-” Atticus started.

“Do you often play tricks on women?” she interrupted.

Triston shifted nervously, sensing his brother's frustration. “No. There were only a few times our dates were confused, but we have never intended on tricking anyone like that before.”

“Before you met me,” she said, and crossed her legs. 

They watched as the tight black dress inched higher up her leg. 

“We didn’t-” Atticus began again.

“You two do have small tells,” interrupting Atticus again. “It took me a little while to sort them out.”

Atticus finished his whiskey and lifted himself off the couch in a huff. He walked swiftly to the bar to pour another. Lillian grinned at Triston.

“You seem to be the cool headed twin,” she said softly, “your brother likes to be in control.”

“You noticed?” Triston chuckled.

Atticus was pacing the space between the bar and couch, as Triston studied her.

“I was thinking,” she said, bringing her fingers to twist at her hair, “today in the office, I felt bad for drenching you in hot coffee.”

“Then dressing me in that awful shirt,” Triston added, “I didn’t notice until the sixth person photographed me on the street.”

Lillian laughed. Atticus stopped and leaned against the cushion.

“You seemed to have been punished already today,” Lillian uncrossed her legs slowly and leaned in towards the table. Both men were staring intently at her every move. 

“I’ve read the twin brothers book, and I am interested in what you two were planning,” she said, and finished her wine.

Atticus grinned and started to make his way around the furniture, and Lillian brought a hand up to stop him.

“No, Atticus,” she said sternly, “there must be some form of discipline for you.”

Lillian stood up, and set her glass on the table. She approached Triston, stopping at his knees. He looked up at her, waiting for her instruction.

“Atticus, sit,” she said, pointing to the cushion she had just abandoned.

Atticus bit his lip and did as he was told. He took a swallow and then set the glass next to the others. Unbuttoning the cuffs of his dress shirt and rolling them up slowly, he sank down in the seat.

“Triston, would you please tell me what you two had planned,” she continued.

“Miss Lilly,” his voice was suddenly low and powerful, “we were going to eventually come clean and tell you there were two of us.”

“Now that’s not what I was asking,” she said, frowning.

Triston shifted uncomfortably. Lillian crossed her arm across her front and grabbed the zipper on the side of her black dress. She stood there waiting.

“Neither one of us wanted to back down after meeting you,” he said, “we let the novel inspire our little game.”

Lillian unzipped slowly, her black strapless bra was peeking out from the opening. “Have you ever shared a woman?”

“No,” he answered quickly.

Atticus grunted from behind her. “Atticus, do you disagree?”

“Triston may have forgotten there was one time, in that dive bar,” he said, the frustration taxing his voice.

Lillian looked in Triston’s eyes, and he nodded. She zipped the dress back together.

“That’s too bad, you were making progress,” she said and leaned over to grab the wine bottle.

“We never shared her,” Triston protested, “we fucked her in the same night, but she thought it was just one of us.”

Triston looked around Lillian’s hips and glared at his brother.

“Sounds familiar,” she said. “So where do you stand on the subject?”

“Of sharing?” Triston asked, his voice was full of hope. 

She smiled and straddled his knees. Standing over him, with her wine glass in her hands. Spreading her legs, her skirt creeped up, and she could feel the air on the bottom of her exposed ass cheeks.

Lillian looked to the large window, watching Atticus in the mirrored reflection. He had both hands clutching the fabric of his dress pants. His expression was clearly agitated.

“We have shared our whole lives,” Triston said, his breath getting louder.

“Do you share your toys well?” she asked playfully.

Lillian lowered herself down on Triston’s lap and placed a hand on his firm shoulder, rubbing the black cotton shirt in small circles. Her wine glass pressed against her chest.

“Miss Lilly,” he growled, “you are no toy.”

Taking her hand to her zipper again, she released the fabric, and slid one arm out.

“You could use me like your little fuck toy,” she said boldly.

The sound of Atticus’s glass hitting the slate behind her drowned out Triston’s low moan. She glanced behind her at the brother, who had stumbled hearing her words.

“You are still in time out,” she warned him.

Atticus was leaning forward now, his hands clasped together in front of his frame. The look on his face made her snicker. She took the hem of the dress and brought it all the way up, giving Atticus the full few of her bottom and black G-string. He seemed to have forgotten how to blink.

Triston’s hands had been at his sides, but he reached up to take her wine. He leaned forward, with her nestled on top of him, and set it back on the table. She used the movement to straddle him tighter, and release her other arm. The dress bunched up around her waist.

He ran his hands up her sides, his palms were warm and inviting. They found their way behind her, and effortlessly unlatched the clasps. Her breast bounced with freedom. She took the bra and tossed it at Atticus with a devilish grin.

He caught the garment and squeezed it in his hand, reaching again for his whiskey.

Triston brought his lips to her erect nipple, and ran his tongue in small, slow circles. Biting her playfully and pulling at her sensitive skin. She flipped her hair to the side and caressed her other breast.

“When we agreed to the smut club, I told you if I felt uncomfortable, I could tap out at any time,” she said.

“Yes,” he mumbled between her full mounds.

“There are new rules now,” she continued, “there will be no jealousy. You can play hard with your toy but don’t break it before you give your brother a turn.”

Triston bit her breast, and brought his hands to cup her ass. She could feel his hard erection underneath her, and her insides were calling to him again. He kissed her collar bone, and jaw. Then stared into her eyes.

“Atticus, do you agree with the new rules?” she asked.

“Yes Lilly,” he grunted behind her.

“Good,” she said.

Lillian stood up, causing Triston’s arms to fall back to his sides. She slid the dress down, and his face was covered in wanting. 

Though instead of removing her outfit, she repositioned the bottom, then brought her arms back in the straps covering herself. Both men stared at her in shock. She picked up her purse and retreated swiftly to the other side of the couch. She leaned over and kissed Triston hard on the mouth.

“Lillian, what are you doing?” Atticus asked her, exasperated. His knuckles white from gripping her garment.

She walked over to him, and kissed his lips, his passion was trying to slip into her mouth but she backed away. 

“Clear your schedules this weekend boys, you have a date,” she said as she unlocked the door and stepped toward the elevator. “You didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you?”

She could hear both men call out after her as the elevator door closed.

Just like in the book, they can work for it.