"And then we came here." His lips curved as he looked at her. The smile was wry. She couldn't read the emotion behind it.
"My father never hit me," she said.
"That's not a requirement for us liking you," Zane teased.
"I didn't meanmdash; Shit." When he chuckled, she threw a napkin at him.
Still smiling slightly, he went on. "Everything we have here reminds me my old life is behind me. Every bite of caviar is a bite of freedom."
Rebecca's breastbone pressed in against her heart. "That's a nice way to put it."
Trey reached out to take Zane's hand. Zane returned his hold with a squeeze. Zane had told his story lightly, but she guessed sharing it wasn't that easy.
"I read your brothers' interview," Trey said.
He startled her. "Oh," she said, her hand coming to her chest. Zane was looking at him as if this surprised him as well.
"What you did for your brothers, when you were so young, it can't help but mean something to people who grew up like us."
"I just . . . I didn't want to lose them."
"You protected them." Trey's tone was soft but firm.
"I protected me too. And they helped, even though they were little."
He leaned back and smiled. "I admire you anyway."
He turned his statement into a tease, the same as Zane's ***** about not needing to be hit for them to like her. She felt ridiculously flattered but also uncomfortable. She was no hero.
"Well," she said. She stood and tightened the tie on Zane's robe. The table between them was scattered with plates and crumbs. "Maybe I should clean up."
"We'll take care of it," Zane assured her. "Why don't you warm the bed for when we get back?"
"You're spoiling me," she said, trying to sound as light as them. "Aren't you worried I won't want to go to work tomorrow?"
Trey drew breath as if he meant to speak. Zane stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Just be a guest," he said. "We're happy you're here tonight."
~
"You need to ease up on her," Zane cautioned.
They'd brought the food to the suite on a rolling cart. Because Mrs. Penworth was asleep in her quarters, they were trundling it back with the remains. Just in case they ran into staff, they'd pulled on what Trey teased were their Hugh Hefner robes.
"I need to ease up," he repeated as Zane opened the old elevator's metal gate. "That's not what a woman groaning in ecstasy signifies. Anyway, she went at you hard for the finish. I couldn't have gotten her too sore."
"That's not what I meant." Zane pulled his end of the cart into the car. Closing the gate, Trey got the mechanism going. "She's a total workaholic, way worse than me. She had the wardrobe she did because she doesn't like wearing clothes she can't cook in. I'm not sure she has a shut-off button. She won't welcome being told she can stay home from the restaurant."
"But she can. We're not opening the Lounge to the general public for a week. Unless you have business you can't put off, now is the ideal time for a sex vacation."
The elevator creaked to a stop in the basement. Neither man shifted to get out. "You realize she probably hasn't taken a vacation since her dad walked out," Zane said.
Trey opened his mouth to argue and then shut it. "Really?"
"That's my best guess. Plus, saying the V word sets off warning bells for some chicks. You date a guy you're getting to know. You vacation when it's serious."
A warning bell rang belatedly in his head. Shit. Had Missy assumed he was serious when he'd agreed to join her for the weekend?
Unaware of his mental side trip, Trey frowned stubbornly. "This is serious. And we could do it now. We could spend a whole week playing and seeing if this arrangement can work out. You said yourself you wanted to give it a try."
He had said that. As usual, Trey was a couple steps ahead of him in commitment. Zane couldn't deny the appeal of what his friend seemed to be aiming formdash;at least he didn't think he could. He rubbed the groove between his lower lip and chin. "You're talking long-term here? You want to make Rebecca a regular part of our lives?"
"I do." Although Trey's answer was firm, his hands gripped his end of the cart as if they might break it. Beneath his neck tattoo, a nervous pulse was beating. The enclosed space they stood in made the conversation feel even more intense. "I think you want it too, Zane, even if you're not ready to admit it. You told her things you never tell anyone. You've thought about her as a person and not a bimbette. You're trying to figure her out. Hell, you might have done a better job of it than me."
"Well, I wouldn't lay odds on that." Zane looked into Trey's face as he weighed the situation, aware Trey was watching every expression that flitted through his eyes. "You wouldn't expect me to get over all my hang-ups at once?"
"Cross my heart," Trey promised.
"She does seem to be into both of us."
"She does," Trey agreed.
"And into both of us taking her at once."
"Which we're also into," Trey pointed out with his lips curving. "I honestly believe we'd have a better chance of victory as a team."
Zane smiled at his coaxing tone. Trey was cute when he thought he'd won an argument. "All right," he said. "You and I are now partners in seduction."
That settled, Trey heaved the elevator gate open. After Trey lifted the cart's wheels over the gap, Zane pushed it into the dark corridor. A few lights burned in the kitchen, guiding their progress there.
"If we're partners," Trey said, continuing their joint train of thought, "we need a strategy. I think you're right about Rebecca being likely to resist."
Zane's groin took on weight at his words. A memory rolled across his mind: Trey humping her atop the red Bugatti, his hands on her outstretched wrists, her breasts bouncing merrily. She'd writhed at him cuffing her, just as she'd writhed for Zane when he restrained her with his belt.
"We have to show her the playroom," he blurted.
Trey halted so suddenly Zane almost bumped his legs with the cart. He turned to stare back at him. "Not right away surely?"
"Yes, right away. We knows she's afraid of relaxing, afraid ofmdash;"
"mdash;liking things too much?" Trey suggested.
"Yes. She doesn't know how to let go and enjoy. We need to . . . provide the illusion of taking that decision out of her hands."
Trey considered this, but Zane was almost certain he'd agree. A tent was forming behind his dark blue robe, large enough that Zane perceived the thin silk shifting. His own robe had been rising already. Seeing Trey throw a boner finished the job swiftly.
"We'd start tomorrow?" his lover asked.
"Early," Zane confirmed huskily.
Trey spotted the developments at Zane's crotch. One of his eyebrows rose, but he wasn't surprised. Neither of their appetites was modest. "Should we, maybe . . ."
"No." The roughness in Zane's voice increased. "At least for a while, I don't think we should get off without her."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Bound
A MOTHERLY woman the men referred to as Mrs. P served a hot breakfast in their suite. Quiet and efficient, she also seemed good-natured.
"Let me know if you need anything you'd rather not ask these two for," she said to Rebecca. "Whatever it is, the staff or I can get it."
The scope of the offer impressed. If Rebecca asked for a spaceship, would one appear on the lawn?
For the moment, breakfast was sufficient. Zane and Trey dug in without conversation, so she guessed they weren't morning folk. That was all right with her. The food was good enough to take up her attention.
"Don't get dressed while we're gone," Trey said sternly when he and Zane excused themselves to shower. "We have business we want to discuss with you."
She'd planned to pull on her clothes and go. It was after ten by then. She wanted to stop at her house, maybe check the Internet for early reports on last night's event at the Lounge. She knew Trey's people were on top of PR, but it couldn't hurt to touch base with her contacts in the media. Though these were reasonable intentions, she didn't pursue them. The way Trey said business made it impossible.
Her curiosity as to whether he and Zane were sharing more than a shower also might have kept her there.
Maybe it would be okay to poke her head in, but they hadn't invited her. So what if she wanted to soap their lovely backsmdash;or watch them soap each other's? Being inordinately intrigued by what they were getting up to was no excuse for invading their privacy.
She'd gotten the robe she'd borrowed a little sweaty by the time they emerged from the walk-in closet that connected to the bathroom. Somewhat to her frustration, she couldn't tell if they'd had sex. Though the color on their cheeks was high, they didn't wear the languor that went with orgasms.
They also weren't wearing the playboy robes they'd left in.
"You dressed," she complained. They wore white T-shirts with no sleeves and sweat shortsmdash;Zane's in gray and Trey's black. They were so fit the simple workout clothes looked ridiculously hot. Either could have graced a spread in their magazine. The Bad Boys get casual! the caption might have said.
Unmoved by her objection, Zane handed her a folded pile of clothes. "These are for you, sweetheart."
Him calling her sweetheart almost caused her to blush. She focused on what he'd given her instead. The small bundle included yoga pants, cotton bikini panties, and a soft strappy shirt with a built-in bramdash;an outfit any woman could have worn for lazing around on her day off. Rebecca peered at them suspiciously.
"These are new," she said. "And my size."
"The clothes you wore last night are wrinkled," Zane not-quite-explained with a smile.
If they'd pressed her to accept a designer dress dipped in diamonds, she'd have had no problem refusing. Suspecting she'd been managed, she retreated huffily to the bathroom to put them on. When she returned, both men gave her onceovers. Their unmistakable approval heated her in places she wished she could control better.
"Nice," Trey praised.
"Very," Zane seconded.
Rebecca put her hands on her hips. "Fine. You've dressed me in formfitting sportswear. Now tell me what your business is."
"Not here," Zane said. "We need to take a walk."
He caught her fingers in his, surprising her. She'd thought Trey was the big hand-holder.
The walk took them to a vintage elevator with a folding gate. Rebecca half expected to be shoved against its wall and screwed . . . and maybe more than half wished for it. When Zane smiled at her knowingly, she snapped her head away. They got out at a sub-level, one she had the impression was under the basement. From there, they strode along a shadowy corridor, stopping at what looked like a bank vault door. Constructed of metal, its hardcore lock required a key and a thumbprint.
Rebecca bit back a tart remark about showing off their stash of gold bars. Just because she was nervous, she didn't have to be snarky.
Trey finished swinging the heavy door open. With a humorous little bow, he waved her ahead of them.
The corridor she'd entered was lined with old brick and arched. Cool and smelling of earth, the passageway bent left, then right, and then opened into a huge round room. A columned arcade circled it, each pair of arched supports dividing off a niche. High above their heads, a crude wooden wheel of a chandelier provided illumination, but not enough to make out the contents of the recesses.
"What is this place?" Rebecca asked, automatically speaking in hushed tones.
"During Prohibition," Trey said, "it was a gin mill and speakeasy. Now it's Zane and my playroom. We're completely private here. No one has the key but us."
A shiver she couldn't suppress ran through her. She realized she wasn't afraid to be alone with them. With the sense that she'd stepped to the edge of a deep canyon, she turned to look at the men. They were watching her closely. "The stories are true then. You throw orgies."
"Maybe not as wild as you're thinking," Trey answered. "We invite trusted friends here. And we all play responsibly."
"Responsibly." Rebecca wet her lips, gaze straying to the nearest shadowed niche. Was that a metal rack inside it? The sort a person could be attached to? She didn't want to think about how hard her pussy was quivering. "Why show this to me?"
"Because we believe you'll enjoy trying out our toys. We know you're thinking of leaving us today. We'd like to present the strongest possible argument that you should stay for a while."
"And you think this is it?" Rebecca didn't have to fake her surprise. "Guys, I promise neither of you needs anything like this to turn me on."
Trey's smile was crooked and gentle. He hid it well, but she sensed she'd touched a nerve. This place was important to him. "It's not about needing this to turn you on. It's about getting past the walls people build around their passions. I think you'll admit you have a few of those."
"Give us one game," Zane said, the consummate bargainer. "If you like it, we play another. We want a whole week with you, but we're prepared to earn it a day at a time."
She couldn't just say yes. That wasn't how bargaining worked. "If I play one of your games, do I get to choose one to play on you?"
If Trey's smile had been gentle, Zane's was devilish. "You have no idea how much Trey would like that."
"How much Trey would."
Zane laughed throatily. "Trey's tastes are flexible. You can play games with him or me, and he'll enjoy both."
And what if I want you to play with each other? She didn't say the thought aloud. She hadn't forgotten Trey's comment about Zane being embarrassed by his "gay" side. Trey was breathing more deeply than he'd been when they first walked in, like he was aroused and working to hide it. When he talked about walls, did he realize he had them? Meeting his eyes gave her the same rocked sensation as the night they met. The floor wasn't solid. She was falling into him.
"Nobody does anything to me if his clothes are on," she said.
"Deal," Zane agreed, and just like that, they seemed to have one.
Trey pulled his T-shirt over his head, then shoved his shorts and briefs down his legs. As he stepped out of them, he had a half-mast erection. From what she could see, the flag was running up the pole posthaste.
"Hey," she said breathlessly. Did they have to rush into this? But maybe they did. Zane was undressing too.
"You wanted us naked," he said. "We're obliging you."
His erection was beefing up just like Trey's.
"You didn't have sex in the shower," she exclaimed without thinking.
Zane tossed his last shoe into the pile of clothes Trey had started. "We made a rule for this week. We don't get off without you."
Boy, she wished that knowledge didn't wind her up so well. She was vulnerable enough to their attraction. Her heart pumped in her throat as Trey stepped closer.
"Don't I need a . . . a safe word?" she asked nervously.
Trey knelt beside her to pull down her yoga pants, a service Rebecca forestalled by grabbing their waistband. Trey tilted his head to look up her body. "Zane and I prefer to let lsquo;no' mean lsquo;no,' but we can give you one if you like."
"I've never done this before. How would I know my preference?"
Smiling, he kissed her hip and tugged the pants free of her fingers. "Trust us then. We'll pay attention to what pleases you."
She guessed she did trust them, because she let Zane peel off her top. She was naked then. They all were. Standing tall as a tree before her, Zane steadied her head between his hands. His hold was more than a reassurance or a caress. The strength of his hands kept her from looking away from him. Her breathing sped up at his control, a reaction she couldn't stop.
"I'm going to give you instructions," he said, his bright blue eyes holding hers. "Unless you tell me you don't want to obey, I'll expect you to follow them. If you want to struggle, feel free. We won't let you hurt yourself. Other than that, your words are all you need to stop this train in its tracks."
"You won't gag me?"
Zane's chuckle was sexy. "Not to be cliché, but we have better uses for a mouth as sweet as yours."
It didn't take an Einstein to figure out that implication. Rebecca's nipples beaded like he'd pinched them.
"Okay," she said, striving to sound steady. "I can go along with that."
Zane stepped back and considered her as if he were an artist and she his clay. Trey remained where he was next to her. Was Zane his boss for this as well?
"Trap her arms against her sides," he said to his friend. "Carry her to the niche behind you. I saw that one catch her eye."
When Trey lifted her as instructed, his stiffened cock pressed against her back. Rebecca squirmed but held her tongue against making noises that might be construed as stop. His task fulfilled, Trey set her down in the recess Zane specified, facing the shadowy apparatus she couldn't make out yet.
Rebecca stayed, her normally independent nature caught in the spell the men were weaving. The flame Trey held revealed two gas sconces on the brick columns to either side of her. He lit them, after which Rebecca sucked in a breath. In the dancing light, she saw what the shadows hid. The recess was about six feet wide and deep. An elaborate rack stood within it, fashioned of dull black metal in a complex arrangement. Bars supported padded rests and rings, some of which were adjustable with gears. Buckled leather restraints provided still more security. A floor length black curtain, also velvet, lined the wall to the rear, concealing who knew what additional instruments.
Rebecca had to appreciate the imagination at work here.
"Kneel on the first set of rests," Zane instructed behind her.
Trey helped her onto them. Their positioning spread her knees, and air tickled her wetness. Liking this a bit too much, she clenched her jaw.
Maybe Trey knew. "These lock," he said. He slammed a curved metal piece around her calf and into an aperture. The noise jolted through her, sounding like a jail door closing. Cream welled from her, but at least she wasn't alone in being affected. As she twisted around to watch him shut the second one, she noticed the tip of Trey's erection was stretched and shiny with arousal. A pulse beat hard in his upright shaft.
It bounced as he came around to her front again. "Left hand," he ordered.
Unable to speak, she gave him her hand. He pulled it gently along a padded rest until her wrist was stuck through a ring. Her right arm was treated to the same procedure.
"Tighten the cuffs," Zane said.
Trey turned a crank and the rings clanked smaller. He didn't stop until the segmented metal fit her wrists perfectly. She was certain there were easier means of securing her, but the noises the mechanism created were fabulously theatrical. A million shivers of excitement swept her skin. The rack was like some crazy steampunk devicemdash;custom made, she was sure. Once the cuffs were snug, Trey strapped her elbows to the padded rest with leather. Nothing pinched, but neither was she able to get away.
The arm bars were extendable. Trey pulled them toward him and locked them down with more clanking. The shift forced her to lean forward. The combination of being slightly off balance and restrained was weirdly arousing.
"Your torso needs supporting," he said gruffly.
For this he supplied a leather harness. He wrapped it around her middle like a corset. Like the historical version of that garment, it lifted but didn't cover her breasts. Unlike it, it attached by a system of straps and rings to hooks on the rack. The harness took the weight of her forward lean, holding her perfectly.
"Test it," Trey said.
She assumed he meant to pull against it so she did. The leather creaked, but nothing broke or snapped. The rack itself didn't budge, no matter how she swung her weight. Its structure must have been sunk into the floor. She guessed Trey liked the look of her moving. His right hand fisted at his sternum.
"Anything hurt?" he asked.
"No," she answered huskily.
His eyes slid down her bound body, over her breasts, down the corset, locking on the now wet spikes of hair at her sex. He let out an aroused sound, one she'd heard from him before, one he was unable to hold in. His cock stood up like a horn, his erection thicker and more brutal than any she'd seen in person. At the thought of pleasuring it in some fashion, goose bumps broke out across her thighs.
"Are you cold?" he asked immediately.
She smiled, waiting for his gaze to rise to her face again. He seemed concerned, and not entirely for her wellbeing. She thought she understood his real question. "This may be the oddest foreplay I've ever had used on me, but I confess it's working. You can stop worrying."
"But if you're coldmdash;"
"If she's cold, we'll warm her," Zane said. His tone was authoritative as he stepped closer behind her. He'd let Trey indulge his fetishmdash;or maybe geniusmdash;for bondage. Now he was taking charge again.
Trey didn't seem to mind.
"Draw the curtain," Zane said softly.
Trey turning to obey gave her an unobstructed view of his hindquarters. That was a lovely show, what with his wedge-shaped back and his muscular rear. She took a moment to shake off her admiration and notice what he'd uncovered.
The curtain had concealed a mirror as tall as him, framed in ornately carved dark wood. With round and startled eyes, Rebecca stared at her trussed-up reflection. Her hair was mussed, her mouth stretched into an O. The redness of her nipples above the harness was pornographic, but this wasn't all that was. In the blue-tinged gaslight, moisture glistened on her inner thighs. Her clit was so swollen it peeped out. Blood rushed into her cheeks with arousal and embarrassment.
"Good Lord," was all she could say.
Zane moved in while she gaped. His reflection was nearly as flushed as hers. "See how beautiful you are?" he murmured in her ear. "How enticing?"
He stood between the shin rests that spread her thighs. He was close enough that filling his lungs with air caused his chest to brush her back, close enough that head of his erection bumped the top of her ass. He reached through the various bars and straps to stroke the pebbled skin around her right nipple. The feathery touch drew more hot fluid from her.
Trey's intake of breath was harsh as he spotted this. Forcing his gaze upward, he looked at Zane instead of her. "Is the height all right?"
"Perfect," Zane said. "I can slide my cock right into her from here."
A shiver crossed Trey's shoulders. Did he want Zane to slide his cock into him? "I'll shift the mirror," he said, his voice gone thick. "I don't want to block Rebecca's view when she's going down on me."
"Good," Zane said. "I'll want to watch that too."
The mirror hung on a wheeled track. Trey pushed it to a new position, gauged the angles, and then returned to her. He was breathing harder, a thin sheen of sweat gleaming on his bronzed skin.
"Here are the rules," he said, not quite evenly. "You make me come, and then Zane lets you. As long as I hold back, he doesn't bring you off. Obviously, you can only use your mouth."
Was it rude to point out this could be short game, given how wound up Trey was?
"My mouth can't reach you from here," she said instead.
Trey climbed onto the frame with her.
There were places to put his feet she hadn't noticed before, and also a subway style strap for one hand to hang onto. Once he'd gripped it, Trey's cock was level with her mouth. This close, his erection filled her field of vision, rock hard and juddering. All she saw of his tattoo was the dragon's tail.
Trey cupped the side of her head with his free hand. "I can pull out if you push me too close to the edge. Because you're bound, you won't be able to stop me. As you might have guessed, I'll need the advantage."
His self-deprecating tone caused her to crane to see his face. Did he think she judged him for liking this? How could she, when her body had been creaming since her first sight of the contraption? She'd told him this bondage worked on her. Hadn't her words gotten through?
Words didn't always, of course. Sometimes convincing someone required action.
Behind her, Zane ran his hands across her shoulders and down her arms, across the leather that secured her elbows to the metal cuffs on her wrists. He caressed both her and what held her captive.
"I think we ought to start," he said.
She trembled, knowing the men wouldn't stop unless she told them to. Maybe she ought to tell them. Maybe this was too much for an uptight control freak like her . . .
She forgot every doubt the second Zane's prick nudged into her pussy.
Her tension gave way like wax melting. His cock completed her bondage, its solid length going in the key that dissolved her fears. The reaction was primitive. Irrational. Some big male taking her didn't make her safe from anything. At the moment, logic had no power over her. Zane was stretching her limits, clearly worked up like Trey. When he moaned his pleasure for the penetration, the sound rang through her soul.
Oh yes, she thought. This was what people meant by surrender.
"You like that?" Trey rasped.
Until Zane answered, she wasn't certain whom Trey was talking to.
"She's hot around me," he said. "Tight. Wet. You should try her mouth and see if it's as nice."
"I will," Trey said. "After I do this."
With his hand still cupping her face, he swung his groin forward. His erection settled against her cheek, extending from her jaw to her temple in a hot line. His skin was velvet, the throbbing hardness within it reminding her how alive this part of him was. As if his cock were another hand, he caressed her face with it: one side, the other, sighing as she turned her head to rub it. Pulses shook within her lips as his hardness brushed them, but her mouth was relaxed. Trey liked the feel of it. He dragged his cock up and down its fullness, tugging at the seam with his flare. It was a tease that made her shiver and him impatient. His hold grew infinitesimally harder against her jaw.
"Take me," he ordered hoarsely. "Open those sexy lips for me and suck."
She didn't want to resist. She opened and his cock pushed in. He didn't try to overwhelm her, but he wasn't tentative. God, he was thick. Her mouth stretched around him, watering, adjusting. Her tongue wanted to taste and rub all of him, but settled for the inches it could reach on the strut underneath his glans.
She looked sideways, seeking him in the mirror, only to have his gaze meet hers there. Like her, he wanted to see the whole picture: her corseted and strapped to the rack, hanging from the straps of leather with Zane's cock buried deep inside her. His prick held her prisoner, a spike she didn't have the means to escape. Above her, his long muscled arms gripped the rack for leverage. His abs were taut, her bottom soft and tilted to give him access to her sex. Every part of Zane was bigger than she was, causing her to seem extra feminine. The strange thing was, she felt extra powerful. Sexier. Maybe irresistible. Her forward lean caused her breasts to dangle X-ratedly.
Trey took in every bit of thismdash;lips parting, breath hastening, totally turned on by what he saw. The journey of his eyes complete, he returned his gaze to where his erection breached her mouth. There it stopped like he was frozen. This visual might have been crudest, but she knew they both liked it. Trey's huge hard-on pulsed in the mirror and on her tongue.
"Fuck," he breathed. "Rebecca."
He sounded awed, as if she were doing him a favor rather than giving in to her own desires. She knew what she wanted then: to show him how much she accepted him, to prove it with tenderness and care. She crooned to him, the snug circle of her lips drawing back along the careful distance he'd pushed in. When she pulled free, she kissed his trembling tip.
She felt she loved him. Maybe the feeling would fade, but it existed in that moment.
"Come in again," she said huskily. "Fuck my mouth nice and slow."
Trey wasn't likely to do it rough. Not to a woman anyway. Never mind his dominant streak. If she knew him at all, he'd err on the side of caution.
She wasn't mistaken. He moaned softly and pushed back in. As if it were a signal, Zane started moving his cock inside her too. Her pussy clenched around his hardness, and that drew a groan from him. The sound was deeper than Trey's. Zane seemed more in control than his lover but not by much. Caught between them, sensing them straining to rein in their bodies' natural urges, she realized something new.
She didn't have to be responsible for herself.
If the men wanted to stop her from coming, that was on them. Her only job was to drive them as crazy as she wanted and enjoy herself doing it. She was free. They were bound by the rules they'd set. Giddiness welled in her. She gripped the end of the arm bars, using their stability to increase her control of her own movements.
When Zane thrust back into her the next time, she set the angle. He grunted, so she knew the pressure hit him in a good place. Small though it was, Zane's reaction provided too much of a charge to Trey. He pushed less steadily past her lips, then yanked out and panted.
Mouth temporarily unoccupied, Rebecca turned her head to speak to Zane. "Better bend closer if you want to watch him go. He's already having to take a break."
Zane laughed and took her advice. He'd been holding onto the rack, but now he crooked his arms up her front and gripped her shoulders. His head was next to and just above hers, making it easier to talk.
"Don't count Trey out," he said, thrusting in a fraction harder than before. "My CFO has hidden reserves."
"You could help me," she suggested. "Let him feel you panting while I suck him."
Zane thought this was funny too.
"Fuck," Trey said, less amused. Apparently deciding his break was over, he prodded her lips again.
She didn't stint. She took him in as deeply as she was ablemdash;licking, pulling, twisting her head to move the soft suction of her cheeks and tongue around him. Whatever inhibitions she had, she threw to the wind. She moaned with pleasure as she sucked him, the same as she did for Zane when he drove into her pussy. He was careful not push her over, and she let them know how wild that made her. She didn't care that she was loud, or that she writhed like a thing possessed. The men liked watching what they did to hermdash;and what she did to them.
"You should . . . pull out again," Zane told Trey, his words broken by his thrusts. "We're supposed to make her wait. I can . . . tell you're about to go."
Trey groaned and dragged his cock out of her, but didn't retreat far enough. The next time Zane jolted her forward her lips caught the head again. Trey lost it then. He shoved between her tongue and palate like he meant it, like he could barely stop himself from plunging down her throat.
"God," he moaned. His body tensed, leather creaking as his hand tightened on the strap it held. She caught sight of him in the mirror with his head flung back ecstatically. "It feels too good. She's . . . licking me . . . so . . . good."
He began ejaculating, and she sucked him more fiercely. Before it occurred to her that this might hurt him, he made a sound so helplessly carnal, she knew she'd accidentally done the perfect thing. The edge of pain triggered him. Anticipating the effect this might have, Zane slapped his hand around the base of Trey's cock, so he couldn't slam too far and gag her. Naturally, Zane's grip excited Trey even more. He cried out and his come flooded her, his whole body arching to get closer. Though Zane didn't , he seemed driven by the same instinct. He shoved his length all the way up inside her, holding tight and shaking.
Rebecca was trapped between them, and she loved it. They were both straining to get deeper, maybe straining toward each other. It might be a strange thing to get off on, but she couldn't deny she did. The three of them seemed a unit, as if they all took each other.
Trey convulsed with one final shot and sighed, bringing her awareness to him in particular. Beginning to go soft, he eased himself from her clinging lips. Then she did mind being bound. She wanted to touch him as he stepped down onto the floor. She could tell his knees were shaky.
On the bright side, when he tipped her head up, she was able to look directly into his eyes. She licked her lips free of the last taste of him, an action he watched fascinatedly.
"You liked that," he said.
It wasn't a question. Rebecca smiled, the sensation that she might love him rising in her again. She wasn't frightened by it. She couldn't be in the unusual state she was in. She hadn't come, but she would. She wasn't free, but she was. She'd trusted him more than she had anyone in her life, and it was turning out all right. A hint of these thoughts must have shown in her expression. Trey's dark brows furrowed above his nose. His perplexity amused her.
"The rules of this game entitle me to come now," she said.
The corners of Trey's mouth turned up. "They do. Would you like me to help Zane finish you?"
Zane's cock jerked inside her. An imp prodded Rebecca to share the idea that flashed to her. "Do you think he'd mind if you lick my clit while he thrusts? I realize he'd feel you down there. Perhaps you'd even lick him by mistake." Her tone was intentionally coy, maybe more so than Zane could appreciate.
"Fuck," he swore behind her. His body wasn't objecting. His arms tightened around her, his cock gone steely hard in her.
Trey's eyes flicked to Zane's face and back to her, his mouth pursed with the amusement.
"I believe he'd survive the ordeal," he said.
~
Whatever doubts Zane harbored in his mind, his body was on board with Rebecca's plan.
"I have to unfasten these," he said, reaching forward to unlock and unbuckle Rebecca's arms. "She'll be at the wrong angle otherwise."
Maybe she would and maybe she wouldn't. He only knew he wanted her closer. Before she had a chance to rub her wrists, he pulled her up so that her weight rested on her knees and not the waist harness. His prick fucking loved the change in position. The pressure of her body on his underside was stronger.
He gritted his teeth against letting that push him over. If he was going to do this, he was damn well going to enjoy it for more than two seconds.
"Do her if you're going to," he said impatiently to Trey.
Trey lifted a brow at him. Submission was something he played at and not his true nature. Zane realized how possessively he was hugging Rebecca, both arms wrapped around her to hold himself deep and snug in her.
Trey kicked a convenient cushion into place under her. "Your wish is my command," he said.
Rebecca shiveredmdash;for Trey, he thought. Though it was childish, he jerked his prick deeper into her. Resentment made him hot, or maybe how hot he was made him resentful. Trey knelt on the cushion and looked up at Rebecca.
The shiver ran through her again, but this time she chafed Zane's enfolding arms.
"You're beautiful," Trey said. "Both of you. Especially right here."
He touched them with his fingertips where they joined. A shock of pleasure streaked up Zane's cock, much too strong for sanity.
Trey must have seen the reaction. He smiled subtly and leaned forward.
He didn't pretend to be avoiding Zane. His tongue dragged up the strip of shaft that bulged outside Rebecca before continuing up her folds to her clit. Zane made a noise, then she did, and then Trey swiped them both again. The joint tongue job made him crazy. His cock twitched like a mad thing, which Rebecca must have felt. He hated that he couldn't hide his reaction to Trey licking him, but part of him loved it too.
He gasped as Trey cupped his balls and pressed upward. The outside pressure added to the inner was stellar.
Trey did something to Rebecca too, because she moaned and squirmed.
"I'm going to finish her," Trey warned. "Thrust if you're going to."
Oh Zane was going to. He drew back, pulled in a breath, then drove strongly into her. Rebecca cried out with pleasure.
She groaned when Trey made good on his promise and sucked her clitoris.
Zane snarled. Her pussy was immediately wetter, and softer, and when he thrust again she thrust back at him just as hard.
"Yes," she said. "Please."
Her short fingernails pricked his arms.
"Hold her hips still," Trey growled.
Zane steadied them and went at her full throttle, pumping through that sweet wet tightness as if it could save his life. He couldn't stop. His nerves screamed for release, his instincts for conquest. Rebecca let out little cries that told them how close she was. Trey wasn't teasing and neither was Zane. Together, they drove her harder, higher . . .
Her sheath sucked at him and quivered with orgasm.
She pulled his from him. Timing it perfectly, Trey's fingers contracted on his sac. The top of his head came off as ecstasy rushed from himmdash;so hot, so strong, he couldn't hold back a bellow. Rebecca's head was arched back over his shoulder. He'd cupped her breast as he came, and now her heart pounded in his palm, her hardened nipple pulsing. She lifted her hand to cover his.
He couldn't hold back his contented sigh any more than he had his shout.
"Zane," she said, nuzzling him on the jaw.
He looked down. Trey's cheek rested on her pubis, his dark hair mingling with hers. Rebecca's second hand petted him.
Tears rose into his eyes, but he wasn't sure what fueled them. Not jealousy. Maybe protectiveness. Did Rebecca understand how strongly Trey could love? Would she be careful not to lead him on if she couldn't return his feelings? Trey was the romantic. Rebecca seemed more like Zane. Could he trust her to be like him in looking out for Trey? Trey wasn't a child or anything like that. He simply didn't shield his heart as well as most people.
Confused by his own reactions, Zane cleared his throat. "Ready to get off this ride?" he asked Rebecca.
Her lips curved. "For now," she said.
~
Rebecca had never liked massages. The idea of putting herself in someone else's hands so they could relax her didn't sit right with her. If she couldn't relax by herself, she wasn't sure she wanted to.
"Stop wriggling," Trey scolded, giving her bare bottom cheeks a swat. "You'd think this was the torture rack.
She lay face down on a professional style table in another of the playroom's niches. Pillar candles lit this one, and soft pink rose petals strewed the floor. Both men were smoothing warm scented oil over her. She knew she ought to be enjoying it. Most likely, a normal woman would.
"I'm sorry," she said, flinching when Trey touched her foot. "Getting massages gives me performance anxiety. The masseurs all feel obliged to tell me how tense I am."
Trey snorted as Zane pressed his oiled hands more firmly into her back. He stood at her head, bending over her. When his stroke reached her butt, he drew up it again. "We're not tying you down for this, sweetheart."
"I'm not asking you to. But, um, maybe I could massage one of you instead?"
"No," the men said in unison.
"You gave yourself marks from twisting in the restraints. We want to rub them away."
This reasoning came from Zane. She knew they'd have massaged her regardless, or why the rose petals? They'd planned to do this to her. She heaved a suffering sigh.
"Oh you poor thing," Trey mocked, making smooth passes around her calves. "We feel so sorry for you."
Because Rebecca's face was hidden in the table's hole, she let herself smile a bit. "You could talk to memdash;you know, for distraction."
"Oh brother," Trey said at her overly innocent manner.
"You practically abducted me. The least you could do is answer a few questions."
"What questions?" Trey asked.
Rebecca hadn't actually planned that far. She curled her toes as she considered. "Have you always played games like this with each other?"
"No," Zane said. "And we don't always play them now. They're like an extra spicy meal. You wouldn't want to eat it every night."
"And when you play with other people, do you play with women or men or both?"
Zane's hands hesitated in moving down her spine.
"We invite both," Trey said. "But Zane and I only play with women and only separately."
This suggested their trusted friends didn't know they were a couple. That was a level of secret keeping worthy of her.
"That's all you've got?" Trey said when she paused. "Those are all the answers you want from us?"
"Now you're inviting trouble," Zane chided.
Maybe he was. Rebecca wriggled up on her elbows and looked at Trey. "Can I ask you something personal?"
His face tightened. She thought she knew what thought had crossed it. He assumed she wanted to ask why he liked tying people up.
"It's about your dad," she said, which maybe wasn't any better.
"Okay," he said cautiously.
"Zane said your dad beat you for different reasons than his."
"And you want to know what they were."
"You don't have to tell me," she assured him.
Trey's hands had stilled on her legs. He stood to one side of the table, working on her lower half. When his gaze met hers, it was steady but guarded.
"My dad's father abused him sexually. I never met him, and my dad didn't follow in his footsteps, but he was very weird about anything to do with sex. I wasn't supposed to date or jack off or watch certain TV shows. If I gave any indication I wasn't a eunuch, he got really uptight. In his way, I think he was trying to insure I never did to anyone what was done to him."
"He tried to teach you sex was dirty. He tried to beat it into you."
"Yes." Trey seemed relieved she understood. He smiled unexpectedly. The expression was so compassionate it awed her. He wasn't angry with his fathermdash;not like she would have been.
"I don't know why," he said, "but I never believed him. I always thought sex was good. I guess I'm lucky that was the case."
Zane reached to squeeze his arm. He didn't speak, but the depth of what he felt for Trey was clear. Trey smiled at his friend and her.
"Lie down," he said. "We're not done with you."
When she returned to her prone position, her body forgot to tense against them. For once, the thoughts she was busy thinking didn't get in the way of her relaxing.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dare
REBECCA loosening up changed the rest of the day. Feeling proud of herself, she skinny-dipped with the men in their indoor pool, not even squeaking when the chauffeur walked in to ask if they'd need the car later. Aside from his initial startled look, the young man hadn't eyed her, so that was all right. Zane handled it well. He'd kept his temper as he told Owens to wait for a response to his knock next time. She doubted the man would forget. After their swim, they fed the ducks in the estate's lagoon, then enjoyed a quickie back in the bedroom suite. The sex wasn't as intense as their time in the playroom, but Rebecca liked it because both men were laughing and playful. Around four, she left a message for the twins that she was away from home.
She didn't say the V word. That would have alarmed them.
At four thirty, Zane and Trey checked in with their office. That was more than her restraint could take. She begged the use of a computer in their library. Scattered around the elegant book-lined room, Zane and Trey had small writing desks for guests, each with an internet-ready workstation. Palms gone sweaty, she pulled a rolling leather chair up to one.
Typing in the link to Gordon Hewitt's Boston Eats blog tightened every nerve she had.
You don't have to read his review, she told herself, finger hovering over the ENTER key. She knew Hewitt's experience might have been colored by having Neil Montana at his table. Moreover, Hewitt was a single set of taste buds in a world of them. People usually, mostly, almost always liked her food. The Lounge's opening had some hiccups, but overall Monday's service had been solid.
"Oh God," she moaned and clicked onto the site.
"Do Bad Boys Do It Better?" asked the anxiety-inducing headline.
"Shit," she said and forced herself to read on.
Before she'd finished the first paragraph she was grinning. Bad Boys did it awesome, apparently. Hewitt mentioned the problem with the lobstermdash;but only in conjunction with it being fixed quickly. Her servers were praised for their knowledge and aplomb. Her clam chowder was declared sublime, her Boston beans on toast less aesthetic but still tasty. The words "creative" and "playful" were thrown around more than once. Trey earned kudos for an atmosphere as warm and glowing as fine whiskey.
Hewitt saved his most fulsome praise for the end.
"It is the dessert, however, the simple, satisfying genius of toothsome apple tart topped by handcrafted cinnamon ice cream, that deserves to become this establishment's signature creation. The blend of flavors and textures fill one with an actual sense of love. Chef Eilert cooks with both heart and skill, making for an experience that this sometimes-jaded reviewer confesses to being eager to repeat. A Highly Recommended for The Bad Boys Lounge from me."
"Oh my God," Rebecca breathed, both hands pressed tight against her mouth. Gordon Hewitt, Boston's most persnickety and respected food critic, highly recommended her. Almost unnoticed, a tear of relief spilled from her right eye.
She had to email Raoul, though he'd probably seen the blog already. Still, her head chef would be excited. This triumph was as much his as hers. She wondered if the booking service was getting many reservations for next week. Trey's people needed to highlight Hewitt's rating on the Lounge's website, maybe pull out a few good quotes.
Adrenaline flooded her, her body wanting to do everything at once. Stop, she thought. Take a breath and calm down. When she did, she knew who she most wanted to share her excitement with. She also knew the partiality meant something.
~
Zane and Trey had a private office down the hall from their bedroom suite. When they had guests, this allowed them to get work done without disturbing their company. Because they'd decided to play hooky with Rebecca on short notice, there was work to see to. As efficiently as he could, Zane checked in on a few situations he couldn't ignore. Though the office had two desks, and he'd left the door open, Trey made his calls from the sitting room.
Zane had just wrapped things up when Trey came in.
"You done too?" Zane asked, stretching back satisfyingly in his chair.
Normally, this would make Trey admire his musclesmdash;a reaction Zane probably took for granted. This afternoon, Trey wasn't biting. He sat on the corner of Zane's desk, folded his arms, and rubbed his lower lip with one finger.
"I just got off the phone with Elaine," he said.
"Oh?" Zane prompted, unsure what emotion he was facing.
"She took a message. From Constance Sharp's grown son and daughter. They're under the impression their mother is in Boston and want to know if I've seen her. Evidently, they're worried. Elaine seemed to think you know something about that."
"Uh," Zane said. He recognized Trey's mood now: it was controlled anger. "Your aunt kind of broke into our offices Friday night. I got her out before she did any damage."
"You got her out."
"I had security escort her back to her hotel. I gave the guards strict instructions not to let her back in the building. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I went on that weekend with Missy, and Rebecca's big do was when I came back. Then we convinced her to join us here. I didn't want to throw a damper over our nice time."
Trey's rubbing of his lower lip turned into a pinch. "So she's here in Boston."
"I guess so. Her kids wouldn't be calling if she'd gone home. I couldn't force her to leave the city. I talked to Evan. He doesn't think we have grounds for a court order."
"You thought her showing up was important enough to consult a lawyer, but not to inform me?"
"I'm sorry. I don't like seeing you upset about this."
"Fuck." Trey got up to pace, both hands shoveling through his dark hair. He really wasn't himself when it came to his aunt, which tended to knock Zane equally off kilter.
"Look," he said, hoping Trey wouldn't jump down his throat for what he was about to say. "It's totally your call, and you know I'll back your play, but are you sure avoiding her is the best solution?"
"There's no point seeing her!" Trey exclaimed. "The only thing that will satisfy her is denying my father was abused. I can't give her thatmdash;even if she's just a crazy old lady who's afraid of her own guilt. The truth is the truth. My father paid for it. I paid for it. And maybe she could have done something to stop the abuse. She was eight years older than my dad. I wasn't there. I don't know what the fuck happened in that house."
Zane came around the desk to sit on its other corner. He touched Trey's arm lightly. "You don't really blame her."
"I don't know whether I do or not. Kids don't always speak up, even when they could. You and I both know that."
"We do know that," Zane agreed, keeping his hand where it was. Trey was the least judgmental person he knew. Zane didn't want to see that change.
"Fine." Trey looked away and scowled at the wall. "I made your point for you. But even if I went along with her, even if I said, lsquo;Yes, this lie you're telling yourself is true. Your father didn't abuse mine, and my dad never claimed differently to me,' do you think once would be enough? On some level, my aunt knows what happened. She'd need me to keep shoring up the lie. I'd never be done with it. Fuck," he finished and covered his face.
Zane moved his hand to Trey's shoulder, which was trembling. "Trey," he said. "Sweetheart."
Trey choked out a sound that let Zane know he was crying.
Zane immediately pulled him against him. "Sh," he said against Trey's hair. Trey clung to him as he rubbed his back. "I'd offer to beat up your aunt, if it weren't for that little old lady thing."
Trey laughed raggedly, forehead rolling against Zane's shoulder. "God, I love you."
Zane held him tighter and closed his eyes. When he opened them, heartbeats later, Rebecca was in the open door.
~
Rebecca shouldn't have stood there listening as long as she did. Now that she'd been discovered, the polite thing would be to excuse herself. If a person walked in on a grown man crying, and his best friend was comforting him, it wasn't right to intrude on that. She especially shouldn't intrude considering the tenderness with which Zane was holding him. This was third wheel territory, without question.
The only person who might claim differently was Trey.
She looked at Zane. His eyes weren't telling her to come or go. He'd stiffened, probably with embarrassment. Then again, despite her catching him being less than macho, he wasn't letting Trey go. The caution in his expression suggested he was waiting to see what she'd do. Was she having a fling with themmdash;which meant she ought to stay out of thismdash;or did she actually, maybe accept Trey's idea that they were destined to be together? Was she willing to be serious about them both?
Decide, she thought.
Not sure she had, but unable to do nothing, she walked in without speaking and put her hand on Trey's back.
Startled, he turned and wiped his face. "Shit. Sorry."
She shook her head. "You're not doing anything you need to be sorry for."
"You heard?"
"Yes." She dried a streak he'd missed on his cheek. "Sometimes you can't lie even to be nice. It would be too big a self betrayal."
Trey's wet eyes were the green of grass. "I just want her to go away."
"Who wouldn't?" she said, understanding he thought this was wrong of him. She glanced at Zane. The men were sitting side by side now, with Zane's arm braced on the desk behind Trey's back. "So, um, maybe it's not my business, but have you talked to the kids? Are they reasonable people? Could they help control their mom?"
"I don't know." This time Trey wiped his face wearily. "They're strangers to me. I hadn't met my dad's relatives before he killed himself."
"He killed himself?" She blurted out the question. Fortunately, Trey didn't flinch.
"Yeah," he said. "My mom did too when I was younger. My dad did it the same way, in a running car in the locked garage. Neither of them were happy people."
Rebecca was at a loss for words. She considered how kind Trey was, how deeply he embraced life and love. What a waste that his parents didn't have the capacity to appreciate that. But he must fear their sadness was in him. No one could come from that background and not wonder. She stroked his cheek, the skin beneath his stubble hot from his emotions.
"You know how to be happy," was all she could think to say.
He smiled, moisture glittering in his eyes again. He took her hand to kiss its palm. His lips were warm and soft.
"I can talk to your aunt's kids," Zane said.
Trey's head jerked to him. "That's not your responsibility."
A muscle bunched in Zane's jaw. "It's good sense. You send the coolest head into a negotiation."
"It's not a negotiation."
"Maybe it is. We don't know what their deal is. Either way, I'm the best person for the job."
"Zanemdash;"
Zane crossed his arms. "I'm not negotiating with you."
"We'll talk about it later," Trey said.
Rebecca rolled her lips together to hide a smile. Given Zane's stubbornness, she doubted that discussion would occur.
"I have good news," she said, deciding the subject was ready to be changed. "The Lounge got a great review from Gordon Hewitt."
She handed Trey the printout of his blog.
"lsquo;Highly Recommended,'" he quoted, eyebrows up and reaction predictably pleased for her.
As he continued to read the review, exclaiming the best bits aloud, Zane mouthed thank you silently to her.
~
Zane knew Trey was more rattled than he'd let on. He took off in hismdash;yesmdash;pretty red Bugatti and still hadn't returned by evening. Zane could tell his absence troubled Rebecca. She joined him in the library while he power-watched the news on the multi-screen wall display. Aside from sending a few emails, she mostly wandered up and down.
He wondered if this meant she felt more comfortable being alone with Trey than him. She wasn't relaxed like she'd been this morning after their game. She felt back on her old standby, offering to whip up a quick dinner. Reminding her she was a guest didn't dissuade her.
"I'd love to play in your kitchen," she said earnestly. "You have great equipment."
"Maybe some other time." Wanting to give her his full attention, he clicked off the television and lounged back in his big leather chair. "Mrs. Penworth rules that roost. If you were cooking, I'd want to give her advance notice."
"Oh," she said, her face falling comically.
"You wouldn't want Trey to miss out on your food," he added. "We can't be sure when he'll come back."
"But you like eating," she pointed out hopefully.
God, she amused him: their delectable, neurotic little elf with her short blonde hair and her big gray eyes. She resembled a sprite even more in the workout clothes she'd pulled on again. He didn't know how to admit he had an entire wardrobe of clothes for her stashed in their walk-in closetmdash;ordered through Sybil Spaulding and then hidden in the back. The discovery had raised Trey's eyebrows that morning.
Perhaps Rebecca hadn't cornered the market on eccentric behavior. Perhaps, in his way, Zane had been dreaming about her as hard as Trey.
"C'mere," he said, patting his thigh for her to sit on.
She lowered herself with her back as stiff as a board. Zane snorted, squeezed her, and she relaxed a few inches.
"Sorry," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Not a lot of lap sitting in my past."
"No trips to Santa?"
"I took the twins."
Of course she did. He smoothed a spiky lock from her brow. Hadn't her parents treated her like a kid when they were around?
"My mom must have taken me," she said as if she'd read his mind. "Or sat me on her lap. She was affectionate. I guess I don't remember that part of my life as well as . . . what came after. Just as well, I expect. I'd have missed it, and there was no getting it back." She frowned, squaring her shoulders even as he tugged her closer. "Will Trey be all right?"
Zane supposed she thought she wasn't allowed to feel sorry for herself.
"He'll be all right," he said, hoping this was true.
"He doesn't usually get upset like that, does he?"
"No."
She squirmed around to face him more directly. "He feels guilty for not wanting to see his aunt. He forgives other people's flaws, but he thinks he's supposed to be perfect."
Zane laughed softly.
"What?" she asked, surprised by the response.
"I don't know if I believe in soul mates, but I suspect there's a reason he recognized you as a kindred spirit all those years ago."
Rebecca worried her lower lip between her teeth. She didn't deny she was a perfectionist. "Do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Do you recognize me as a kindred spirit?"
"Maybe." He couldn't look away from her sweet vulnerable eyes. "I definitely feel something for you I haven't for other women. You might be like me in some ways. I don't know you well enough to be sure. Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," she said, bracing for it.
Her reaction made him want to laugh again. "Is it easier for you to be alone with Trey than me?"
"No," she said without hesitation. "I know it might not seem the case, because I'm kind of uptight, but it's easier for me to be alone with either of you than any men in the world. Well, except for my brothers and maybe my head chef, but that's different."
"I'd hope so."
She smiled, her gaze falling to his mouth. Her fingers rose to stroke its curved edges. A tremor slid down his spine at her touch, a mini-quake that rolled out his cock and set it stirring. "Will anyone walk in on us?" she asked.
He recalled Owens interrupting them in the pool, a transgression that had bothered him more than he'd let on at the time. His and Trey's rules were clear. The man should have known better.
That, however, wasn't worth wasting brain space on now.
"No," he said, angling his head in preparation to kiss her. "No one will walk in. We can do what we like."
"I like this," she whispered and sealed his mouth with hers.
The sex the kiss sparked was quick and hard, both of them getting naked in record time. Zane began by taking her on the chesterfield, but decided it was too soft. Yanking the throw off the sofa's back, he shifted her to the floor. He didn't want her getting rug burns but, oh, he liked fucking her on a hard surface. She was strong for a small woman, and she flung herself into lovemakingmdash;each time more than the last, it seemed.
"Oh God," he said, feeling his rise but unable to slow down. He had one hand on her breast and the other braced on the floor to push up his torso. Watching pleasure and desire trade places in her expression was an incredible turn-on.
"Me too," she gasped. Her heels dug into the floor, hips slapping forcefully up to his. Her hands gripped him below the waist, urging him to pump harder. "I'm close too. God, yes, grind into me at the end." She groaned as he obeyed. "I love that. I lovemdash;"
She came and it triggered him powerfully, her contractions like a fist yanking the delicious feelings out. He made a strangled sound as he let go, pressing even deeper into her. She cried out in a way that said that felt good. A second later, another set of inner flutters tightened wonderfully on his cock.
Humming with enjoyment, he dropped onto both elbows. Her nipples trembled with her post-orgasmic heartbeats, tickling where they brushed his chest.
"Nice," she said between pants for air, hands rubbing his back as she smiled up at him.
"There's a reason the missionary position is a classic."
He stroked her damp hair from her brow. Just looking at her made him happy, knowing he'd put that dreamy, slightly smug laziness in her face. Her roving fingers slid around to his front, circling his pectorals. Zane didn't think he ever wanted to pull out of her.
"What would you say to planning something for Trey?" she asked. "Something he thinks of as a classic . . . if it isn't rude to suggest that now."
Zane's cock stopped softening inside her.
"It isn't rude," he said, additional gravel in his voice. "Since we're all interested in each other."
"So what's a classic for Trey? What does he especially enjoy when it comes to sex?"
"A lot of things." He hesitated. "Would you like to go back to the playroom?"
"Would you?" Her eyes were lambent, her pussy suddenly a little wetter, a little tighter around him.
"He likes having sex there," Zane said. "He likes the Gothic atmosphere and the elaborate toys. He likes being hurt a bit. I think part of him believes he shouldn't like it, but that just gives the kink more power over him."
"And you like that," she said, her gaze locked on him.
"I love that," Zane admitted.
~
Trey drove down country roads for hours, trying to get his head on straight. When he returned, Zane and Rebecca were sitting up in bed, seeming to have waited up for him.
"You look exhausted," Rebecca said.
He was exhaustedmdash;and grateful they didn't press him to talk. He crawled up between them, laid his head on Rebecca's leg and passed out. His last conscious awareness was Zane rubbing his shoulders while Rebecca stroked his hair.
He felt better when he woke, but in his absence something had altered between the pair. They looked at each other more, both when the other knew and when he or she didn't. Twice Trey caught them having conversations they cut off when he walked in. He chose not to ask what they'd been saying. They were entitled to interests they shared alone. For them to work as a threesome, they'd probably need them. The sense of exclusion only bugged him because he hadn't thought his way through it. He was certain Zane had felt similarly a time or two.
When the pair disappeared in the afternoon without explanation, his rationale stopped working. They popped up again as he pretended to relax with a magazine on the back terrace.
"There you are," Rebecca said. She was bright-eyed and smiling. Zane looked pleased with himself as well. Whatever they'd been up to, they'd enjoyed it.
"Here I am," he agreed, turning toward them on the Adirondack chair.
He must have done a decent job of hiding his irritation, because Rebecca grinned.
"Well," she said, arms slapping her sides as she exchanged yet another happy glance with Zane. "I guess I'm off to do the thing. See you in a bit."
Trey waited until she'd walked off to explode.
"She's off to lsquo;do the thing!' Why are you doing things without me?"
Zane placed a hand on his chair back and bent to kiss him. The kiss was tonguey and very nice. To Trey's annoyance, it did smooth out his temper. Zane drew back just as Trey was getting into it. He took consolation in Zane's smoldering eyes revealing he'd been affected too.
"The thing she's doing is for you," Zane explained. "She asked me to help her with a surprise."
"Really?" Guilt pricked Trey belatedly. "She doesn't have to do that. This week is about seducing her into a relationship."
Zane shook his head, amused. "You two are a pair." He held out his hand. "Come see what we did. I predict seducing you is a step on the road to seducing her. She's not the sort to want everyone focused on her all the time."
When he put it that way . . . Trey grabbed Zane's hand and rose, pleased when his friend kept it afterwards. "Is it a good surprise?" he asked, throwing him a sideways glance.
"Of course it is. I helped her pull it together."
"Not short on confidence, are you?"
"Rarely," Zane agreed.
Realizing they were headed toward the playroom put a skip into Trey's pulse. "Was this your idea?" he asked as Zane worked the elevator.
"My suggestion. Rebecca brought her own ideas into the mix."
"What ideas?"
Zane grinned. "You'll see."
He paused at the bank vault door, turning to rest both hands on Trey's shoulders. Though his lips were curved, Trey sensed his friend was about to be serious.
"This game is for all of us," Zane said. "If we all have fun, this whatever-it-is will have a better chance of lasting."
"I want it to last."
"I know." Zane squeezed his shoulders. "I think . . . so do I."
Trey's heart really started thumping then. Knowing Zane, if he admitted that much, chances were he felt more. Zane unlocked the door with his personal key and thumbprint. He was grinning again, anticipating what lay ahead.
"God," Trey said with a laugh. "I'm already hard and you haven't done anything."
Zane wagged his brows at the tent in Trey's trousers and swung the door open.
They walked side by side along the twist in the hall. Imagination running riot, Trey held his breath and stepped into the central room. His skin tingled in reaction to the tableau he found.
In the center of the room, lit by a huge movie-style spotlight, was an old iron bedstead he'd never seen before. It wasn't a fine antique. Any secondhand store in New England might carry a handful. The narrowmdash;and newmdash;mattress was dressed in crisp white sheets and a hand-stitched quilt so deeply scarlet it glowed. The pillows were fluffed, and a small weathered nightstand added hominess beside the head rail.
Less homey but certainly provocative were the four lengths of chain that hung from the ceiling through the wagon wheel chandelier. They ended in iron shackles, the sole component of the display with which Trey was familiar.
The contrasting images of safety and danger caused his cock to throb. Ripples of excitement joined the tingles on his skin. The whole arrangement was a stage set, awaiting only actors to walk on. I'm one of the actors, Trey thought. Zanemdash;or perhaps Rebeccamdash;understood his love of theater better than he'd realized.
"How did you pull this together?" he asked once his voice recovered.
"We rush ordered the bed last night on the Internet. It arrived in pieces and we assembled it down here. You should have seen Owens' face when I told him Rebecca's help was all I needed. Our driver seems to think billionaires and women are equally helpless."
"He's wrong there," Rebecca said, emerging from the shadows of a niche. "I can lift hundred-pound tuna."
She knew how to make an entrance. She wasn't wearing a stitch: not makeup and not clothes. She was no vamp as she came toward them. Her walk was just a walk, not shy but maybe self-conscious. Her body was naturally beautifulmdash;slim, strong, the faint cooking scars on her arms picked up by the strong spotlight. Her small rounded breasts jiggled like maracas, better to him than any centerfold's.
She stopped on the nearer side of the bed. The frame was tall. She rested her butt back against the mattress. His breath caught as he noticed her pubic hair was waxed. A honey brown strip replaced what had been a triangle.
"Do you like it?" she asked, noting where his gaze had gone.
He nodded, his throat choked with arousal.
"Would you undress so I can see for myself?"
He wasn't averse to making a show of himself. Aware that both his lovers were watching, Trey removed his clothes. Rebecca smiled when his erection came free of them. He stood, letting her enjoy her eyeful. If he was going to be chained like a slavemdash;and he sincerely hoped he wasmdash;he might as well get into character.
Pleased by his behavior, Rebecca clambered onto the bed. She patted the red coverlet. "Join me up here. Zane showed me how to lock you up."
If he'd ever heard a phrase more delightful, he didn't remember it. Fighting a last unsureness, he shot a look at Zane. How much had he told her about his preferences? She could have guessed Trey's fondness for bondage from what he'd done to her.
"Go on," Zane said, waving him forward. "This game can't start until you're secured."
It had started for him. His motor was revved and his knees shaky. As he swung up and faced her, his cock was very erect. Its shaft was hard and aching, impatient for pleasure. With one finger Rebecca flicked its tip. The subtle but sharp sensation sent a deep thrill through him.
Maybe Zane had told her everything.
"Pretty," she said. "But we'll see to it later."
She attached the shackles at his wrists and ankles. She was slightly awkward, the task new to hermdash;which only aroused him more. This wasn't some practiced scene from a cookie-cutter script. She'd be involved as this unfolded.
He tried to wrest control of his breathing, but it was difficult. The chains the shackles were attached to stretched from him to a hook on the domed ceiling. Though they allowed a good range of movement, their weight and rattle reminded him he was bound.
"Sit back on your heels," she said.
Her voice was different, not authoritative but husky with arousal. That was fine. Strictly speaking, Trey didn't need to be mastered; he was happy to volunteer. Rebecca turned on her hands and knees to open the bedside table. He didn't think she was consciously trying to display herself, but the position did. He clenched his hands, wanting to lick his way up her slit and bite that sweet little ass. Her newly groomed folds were rosy, the glistening of her sex forcing him to swallow back a groan.
She rummaged through the drawer and huffed out a curse. "I can't find anything in here. I'm pulling out the whole thing."
Trey heard Zane snort as she yanked it free and set it on the coverlet between them. He caught glimpses of objects that made him shiver.
"Sorry," she said, lifting her gaze to Trey's. "I guess I should be smoother about this."
"No, no," he demurred. "I find your inexperience charming."
He was too breathless for her to doubt the words. Her attention fell to his erection, which was pointing skyward and throbbing violently.
Grinning, she extricated a quirt from the jumble in the drawer. With a slowness designed to torment him, she drew the braided leather across her palm. "Zane tells me this is for after you're warmed up. We'll set it aside for now."
She laid the lash neatly on the bed. In his reluctance to drag his eyes away, he missed her making her next selection. She held a wooden paddle, seven inches square with a high gloss finish. The handle was wrapped in rubber to prevent it from slipping in a sweaty hand. Having been on its receiving end, Trey knew it dealt out a smack. "Zane says this is good to start with. I've decided to let him use it. His arm is stronger and, well, he knows what he's doing."
That explained, she handed Zane the paddle. He'd taken off his shirt, but was dressed otherwise. Trey guessed he was enjoying Rebecca's first performance. A considerable bulge distorted his zipper. He stretched to warm up his arms and loosen his shoulder joints. The shifting of his muscles had Trey swallowing. Sometimes he forgot just how powerfully built Zane was.
"Yes, he's something," Rebecca agreed when he turned back to her. "Makes me wonder where I find the nerve to let him have at me."
"You enjoy it," Trey burst out. "You love all that strength and size overwhelming you."
"That's true. I do." She looked so directly into his eyes that for a second he felt like he was falling. "You're big enough to overpower me. If Zane decides you deserve it, maybe he'll let you."
A stab of longing shot through his cock. "If Zane decides . . ."
She tipped her head to the side. "Don't you like him being in charge? He thought I'd make a nice reward for good behavior."
"What's to keep me from just taking you? These chains are long enough for that."
A flush crept across her cheeks, her eyes suddenly brighter. "He'd stop you."
She didn't sound sure, and Trey like that immensely. When he responded, his tone was darker than hers had been.
"Maybe," he said, "and maybe I'd shove my cock into your pussy before he could rescue you."
Any dominant but Zane would have smacked him for his defiance, but he seemed curious to hear her answer too. Her respiration had sped up, her breasts starting to tremble.
"You'd have to be careful if you took me," she said, surprisingly steadily. "You're very excited, and when you come, the game is over. I think we both know you don't want that happening soon."
She knew she had him. She didn't wait for his response, but pushed sharply at his chest. He'd been leaning into her space, and this made him back off. He sat on his heels, satisfied she'd show the spine he wanted. Satisfied with him, she pulled a pair of nipple clamps from the drawer.
"Do you want these?" she asked.
"Yes," he said, his earnestness not put on.
The clamps were new, chosen by her perhaps. Their business ends were rubber-coated to prevent them cutting into his skin. Rebecca attached them to his nipples. Zane must have showed her how to use them. She knew to squeeze in his areola to give them enough flesh to grip. That task accomplished, she turned the wing nuts that tightened them.
"More," Zane said from behind him. "Don't stop until our prisoner gasps."
She gave each screw two more twists and he did, unable to restrain the intake of airmdash;or the momentary shutting of his eyes. The pain was perfect: enough to make his nerves jump but not enough to discourage his arousal. Wetness leaked from his rigid penis, tempting him to make good on his threat to simply take Rebecca. He knew he wouldn't. Waiting would make this better for all of them.
The thought of marauding was in his head all the same. When he opened his eyes, the things that were in them caused Rebecca to scoot back cautiously toward the pillows. He liked that, probably more than he ought to. She set the drawer of goodies back onto the nightstand. Looking nervous but excited, she nodded at Zane that she was ready.
Zane wasn't ready, and Trey thought he knew why. Rebecca sat with her knees pressed together almost primly. She dried her palms on her smooth pale thighs.
"Tell her to expose herself," Trey said hoarsely. "I want to see her pussy."
Startled, Rebecca jerked and looked past him to Zane.
"Our prisoner deserves encouragement," he conceded, "if he's to get through his ordeal. Spread your knees as far apart as they'll go."
Blushing furiously, she spread them.
"Now that's pretty," Trey said, observing her wet and engorged state.
"No one asked your opinion," Zane snapped, ramping up the role play. "Grab the chains higher up. Go to your knees and stay there."
As soon as Trey obeyed, the paddle landed. The sting sang through his buttocks, stirring the pleasure he never could manage to suppressmdash;no matter how twisted that made him. A sound broke from him, low and grateful. Zane hit him again and twice on the other cheek. Trey moaned helplessly when he stopped. Zane was strong and knew what he could take. Trey's ass was hot and pulsing.
"Kiss his cock," Zane ordered Rebecca, his voice harsh with arousal. "Lick the tip very gently until I tell you he's had enough."
Rebecca bent forward. Trey tensed as she approached, chains rattling from his grip on them. This was almost too exciting. He and Zane never played together in front of an audience, much less a woman they both wanted. For that matter, Trey always took the dominant part with guests. He was naked here, and on uncharted ground. His responses were all amped up. He held his breath as the pointed tip of her tongue made contact with his glans and licked.
It felt incredible, much more intense than a light touch should.
"Shit," he said, unable to stay silent.
Zane didn't miss the reaction, though it wasn't Trey he cautioned.
"Careful," he said to Rebecca. "Don't use your lips. Just lick him around the head."
She was very serious, like she truly had to follow his instructions. Her earnestness got to Trey more than any roleplaying could. Positively tormenting him, she licked himmdash;circles and swipes and soft little flicks across that sensitive pulsing flesh. Beads of pre-cum welled from his slit. She gathered them until he trembled, until his veins began to stand out. He couldn't hold on much longer. He wanted to give in too badly. As if he knew, Zane finally said stop.
Without being told, Rebecca retreated to the bed's head rail. Her eyes were wide, her breathing nearly as broken up as Trey's.
"Prisoner," Zane said, his manner all authority. "You're going to take ten strikes, and you'll count them aloud for me."
Trey counted. Each stiff blow was hard. At first they were welcome, because they helped him back off the edge, but soon they excited him as well. For whatever reason, he was wired to respond that way. His ass was on fire within a minute, his inner muscles twitching with their desire to be fucked. Zane seemed unlikely to satisfy that craving in front of Rebeccamdash;a fact that only made Trey want it more. He wanted to fuck and be fucked simultaneously. The instant he acknowledged the desire he knew he was stuck with it. This was his obsession, the yearning no amount of wooden paddles could beat from him. He wanted Zane and Rebecca at the same time.
"Ten," he rasped with all the frustration he had in him.
Zane ceased swinging. Sensation throbbed through Trey's whole body.
"Do you want your reward?" Zane asked sternly.
"Yes, sir," Trey answered, a response Zane only drew from him sometimes.
"lsquo;Yes, sir,'" he repeated with the faintest wisp of a sneer. "That's polite, prisoner. I'd double your reward, except I know you prefer suffering."
"He'll need protection," Rebecca said softly. "Would you do that for me?"
She tossed Zane a condom, and he caught it. There was a little pause. "For you," he said, huskiness in the words. "I'd do anything."
He walked up the side of the bed to roll the rubber on. With absolute fascination, Rebecca watched his hands on Trey's cock. Zane didn't fumble under her regard. He was too accustomed to handling Trey. Cranked up by the whole situation, Trey's balls jerked closer to his body.
"Will that do?" Zane asked when the task was done.
Rebecca's eyes flicked from Trey to him. Did she realize she could order Zane to touch him more? He'd shown her more deference than any previous play partner. She pressed one finger thoughtfully to her cheek. Her next words flashed through Trey like a rocket trail.
"You could have caressed him more," she observed, "around the balls or shaft, but I admit he looks well prepared."
"If I'd excited him more, he might not last through his reward."
"True," she said.
"What's my reward?" Trey dared to ask.
"You took ten strokes from me," Zane said. "You can have ten strokes inside her. If you survive them without coming, I'll use the quirt on you."
Trey groaned, the reaction as unavoidable as his hard breathing. Under normal circumstances, ten strokes inside her would be a breeze. Under these, they might in truth finish him.
"Grab the head rail," Zane said. "Only your cock can touch her while you do this."
Rebecca moved down the mattress while he moved up. She'd bent her knees, but Zane pulled the leg nearest to him down. "Keep this flat. You don't want to spoil my view.
Rebecca's lips parted for a quick breath. Trey concluded they hadn't pre-planned this part, and it excited her.
"I'll aim your cock for you," Zane told him.
It wasn't all Trey wanted, but it was good. Zane's hot fingers placed his head at her creaming gate.
"There," he said. "You may push now, prisoner."
Trey pushed . . . and let out a helpless whimper as his broad crown went in. Her body gave for him easily: soft, wet, clinging to his throbbing cock all over. When he was fully seated, he looked at her.
"Please don't move," he begged in an undertone.
"I'll do my best," she promised breathily.
He took his ten strokes as slowly as he could, savoring them, gritting his teeth in places, but adoring that he could make her moan with him. She had a hard time keeping her right leg flat. Her knee wanted to come up. On the third stroke, she stretched up to grip the head rail, needing something to hang onto to keep herself from squirming. Her breasts lifted on her ribcage, her nipples tight with arousal. When Trey saw that, every cell in his body wanted to go at her full speed, to satisfy the desire her squirms signified. If this had been any other night, he'd have pumped at her and pumped at her until they both screamed with es. Ignoring the urge, he pulled out carefully at ten.
Zane had been watching closely. They heard him breathing beside the bed.
As Trey's butt settled on his shackled ankles and he laid his hands flat atop his thighs, he couldn't have been more aware that he was chained and cuffed.
Rebecca released the rails and went up on her elbows. Her eyes went to the chains but didn't stay. At the sight of Trey's erection, she wet her lips. Her attention redirected his. He felt the swollen organ sticking up like a pole.
"Your skin is so dark," she murmured, her voice smoky. "The tip of your penis is almost red."
He couldn't look. He could barely stand to look at her. Her skin was rosy all over, her every motion sensual.
"I guess you'll be wanting this," she said.
She found the quirt among the covers and handed it to Zane. Zane took it, drawing the lash along his palm like she had earlier. In him, the gesture was thoughtful and not teasing.
"I have a proposition for the prisoner," he said, as if he wasn't sure of it.
"Whatmdash;" Trey's throat was rusty so he cleared it. "What are you proposing?"
"I couldmdash;" Zane looked down, and Trey's pulse galloped at his hesitation. His next words came out lower. "I could whip you while you're inside her. I'd like to watch you try to hold off."
Trey wanted to bargain for more, wanted Zane fucking him as his reward if he succeeded. Zane was generally more concerned with pleasing Trey than himself when they played these games. For him to make a request was unusual. Trey couldn't open his mouth to ask for his desire. When you knew a friend was uncomfortable, you didn't purposefully push him farther than he wanted to go.
"You could have her after," Zane said. "With the chains still on and her under you. Your alluring captor, helpless to get away. Assuming that appeals to her, of course."
"No need to worry about me," Rebecca said with a breathless laugh. "I seem to like everything you do."
"Ten lashes?" Trey asked, as if this were the crucial negotiating point.
"Ten lashes," Zane confirmed.
~
Rebecca hadn't known she'd get so caught up in this. Her arms trembled as she grabbed two of the chains above Trey's head. The links were large enough to work her fingers through. Up on his shins again, Trey supported her bottom in his shackled hands. The cuffs were lined to prevent injury, but like the chain, they were heavy. Their hard presence under her was welcome. She had to squeeze Trey's sides with her thighsmdash;without blocking him to the whip. The difference in their heights meant her knees didn't rest on the mattress.
Trey shifted her until his extraordinarily erect penis parted her labia.
"Ready?" he asked, his gaze unwavering.
"If you are."
She guessed he was. Slowly, he lowered her weight onto him. She moaned with pleasure as his length filled her. Ten strokes hadn't been enough for her.
Trey gave a little grunt when she settled as far as she could go. Her body swung slightly from her hold on the chains.
A sense of wonder overtook her. "Are you really my prisoner?"
Trey's smile was soft. "I am, Rebecca. Now and forever."
She bit her lip, liking his promise more than could be smart. With a shiver-inducing growl, Trey leaned forward and nipped her mouth.
A whistle split the air, followed by a sharp *****. Trey jerked, his cock jolted deeper into her. Zane had given him his first lash.
"No kissing your mistress yet," he said.
Startled, Trey began to turn his head.
"Don't look at me," Zane ordered, a second lash finding Trey's backside. "You keep your eyes on her. Don't close them either. Your reactions are for her to enjoy."
She would have felt guilty for enjoying them if Trey hadn't so clearly liked the harsh treatment. A low noise broke in his chest, his cock throbbing inside her. It throbbed harder when Zane struck him a third time.
Sweat broke out on Trey's face. His fingers tightened on her butt, causing the edges of the shackles to dig into her. The metal wasn't as cold as it had started out. His heat was warming it.
"No thrusting," Zane demanded, laying four and five across his ass.
Rebecca felt the air displace for these strokes, though the leather hadn't once touched her thighs. Zane had practice at this, all right.
"I'm not thrusting, sir," Trey protested, his pelvis jammed into her with all his strength.
"Are you calling me a liar?" Zane cupped Trey's presumably burning cheeks. "I say I saw you move. I say these muscles clenched."
"Just to get deeper, sir."
Zane leaned toward them, his lips an inch away from Trey's ear. "You like being inside your mistress, prisoner? You like all that heat and snugness around you?"
"Yes . . . sir," Trey managed to pant out.
He jumped suddenly. Rebecca suspected Zane had just pinched his rear.
"You have five more lashes to go, and I'm not sure you're worthy. I'm not sure you can last long enough to serve your mistress as she deserves." Zane's arm moved, his palm circling their slave's butt. "She seems to think your balls have been neglected. Perhaps I'll see to them now."
Trey sucked in air as Zane's hand found them. Whatever he was doing felt good to Trey.
"Please," he moaned, straining and squirming inside her.
"Please more?" Zane mocked, doing whatever it was again. "Or please stop before I make you come?"
Unable to answer, Trey bit his lip hard enough to turn it white.
Zane released him. "Your unworthy ass has had enough. You'll take the next five across your back."
He returned to the foot rail, drawing the short lash along his hand. Rebecca could see him now without turning, but he wasn't focused on her. The bulge at his crotch was huge, lines of sweat rolling through the golden hair on his bare chest. His big taut body was beautiful, his expression utterly determined. She was afraid and excited at the same time.
As if Trey knew Zane was readying himself, he clamped her bottom tighter and rested his brow on hers. Zane filled his lungs with air.
Sound burst from both men in tandem as the sixth lash fell.
"Unh," Trey grunted for the seventh, hips twisting desperately against her.
Rebecca's nipples turned to stone for the eighth.
"God," Trey gasped as her sex melted around him.
"You don't go until I say," Zane snarled. "You don't fuck her until I say the word."
"Yes . . . sir," Trey agreed.
He gave Trey nine, and Trey's head snapped back in reaction. She knew most of that reaction was pleasure. His cock had swollen even more inside her. Trey forced his gaze to hers again. His eyes were blazing, tiny tremors making his skin twitch. They were so close she could have counted his eyelashes as easily as his heartbeats. What he saw in her eyes, she didn't know. She felt as intimately connected to him as a person could be. How much he wanted what was happening seemed profound.
Zane brought the quirt down for the tenth time.
"Not yet," he barked when Trey began to lift her up his cock to stroke.
"I want her," Trey said.
"You'll wait," Zane answered, his voice unrecognizable. "You'll fucking wait for me."
Rebecca and Trey's eyes had a second to widen. Then Zane was climbing onto the narrow bed behind Trey. A catch popped and his zipper whined downward. His hot hands covered Rebecca's where they still clenched the chains.
"Let go," he ordered her like Doom itself.
Rebecca couldn't disobey him. She was mastered. She let go reflexively.
He pushed Trey forward and she tumbled onto her back with the shackled man on top of her. The four lengths of chain were slack enough to allow this, though the metal clashed crazily. Trey was still inside her, but not moving. Maybe he wouldn't until Zane told him to. Maybe he was mastered too. Zane stretched over them both to dig in the supply drawer.
"Jesus," Trey breathed as Zane's hand emerged with a container of KY.
Zane cursed as he fumbled with the top. They heard a squirt and a slap as he rubbed the slippery stuff on his cock. Lubed all the way up and down, he kicked Trey's knees wider. Then he moved into position behind him. Zane's face was a picture she wouldn't soon forget: flushed, tense, as if he had to do this or die.
Rebecca's sheath tightened on Trey without her willing it.
"Fuck," Trey gasped, pelvis twisting at how good the contraction felt. "Please don't do that. I'm about tomdash;"
And then Zane shoved into him.
Trey's head went back the same as it had for the ninth lash, his mouth stretched open with shocked bliss. Zane pulled back and heaved again. Pushed farther by the thrust, Trey's cock seemed to knock her womb.
"Now," Zane said, guttural and urgent. "Now you can fuck Rebecca."
Trey cried out, using his muscle power to shove back toward Zane. "Not so hard," he panted. "Between the two of us, we'll hurt her."
Zane growled in frustration but not protest.
The last thing she expected happened.
"Follow my lead," Trey said, apparently still in charge of himself. "I can feel how she's responding."
The men took a couple thrusts to coordinate but then they went like a well-oiled machinemdash;or as well oiled as cocks so close to exploding would let them be.
She was glad they were being careful. Their combined strength could have bruised her. As it was, their combined energymdash;their huffs and groans and sweaty bunched musclesmdash;drove her excitement to heights she hadn't known it could reach. She wasn't able to hold back her responses. Moaning with pleasure, she gripped Trey's side and Zane's arm and prayed the little iron bed would survive the beating it was taking.
Trey made a noise as Zane thumped something good inside him.
"Fuck," Trey said, shoulders hunched, head dropping to her shoulder. "Unh. Yes. Keep fucking me right there."
Zane clamped his fingers around Trey's hip to continue pummeling him at the same angle. His eyes were screwed shut, and a vein stood out at his temple. Trey found a sweet spot in her and blotted out the image.
Her spine arched off the bed, despite the men's weight on her. Trey grunted at the strength of her contractions on his cock. She couldn't stop them. She needed to work against his thickness like she needed to gasp for breath. Just when she thought the pleasure couldn't get more intense, someone's thumb compressed her clit and rubbed.
She keened, fingernails scoring skin.
The men sped up at her cry, maybe too excited not to, maybe greedy to join her. The effect of their acceleration was inevitable. Zane hissed, big body locking as he lost it and shot his into Trey. Trey's chest arched back from her. His expression was ecstatic. He was almost there, straining to go over even as he tried to hang on. With the last of her brainpower, she remembered a trick Zane had shared with her, one he said Trey especially got off on. She slid her hands up his heaving ribs . . .
And yanked off both nipple clamps.
Trey cried out at the sudden pain, cock jamming deep into her to spill.
"Christ," he gasped. His prick throbbed hard, shooting everything he had with abandon.
Neither man collapsed, but they probably wanted to. Thanks to the domed room's acoustics, it sounded like a dozen people were panting inside it.
"Whew," Rebecca said once she had sufficient breath. "I guess that screw we had left over wasn't important."
"What screw?" Trey asked hoarsely. A drop of sweat plopped from him onto her belly.
"From putting the bed together. Zane and I had one left over when we were done."
Trey chuckled, then sucked a breath as Zane pulled out of him without warning.
"Sorry," he said, staggering off the bed with one hand on the foot rail to support him.
In less of a hurry, Trey withdrew from her with a groan. He sat up in the clear spot between her legs. She didn't know where the men found the strength to move. To give himself more room, Trey pulled her right calf across his lap. He stroked it and her foot as he watched Zane zip up.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Of course I am," Zane said. "That was incredible."
He wasn't telling the whole truth. Though he was smiling, the creases around his eyes seemed strained. Rebecca guessed he hadn't meant to take Trey while Trey took her. He'd been swept up in the overwhelming heat of the momentmdash;and now that heat was over.
She had no doubt Trey saw this as clearly as she did.
Discovering she could sit up after all, she laid her cheek on Trey's shoulder. "Thank you," she said to both of them.
"Thank you," Trey corrected. "That was a great surprise."
Rebecca rubbed his chest, suspecting he could use the comfort. For a while there, he'd had everything he wanted.
~
You're not going to run, Zane ordered himself. You're not going to be surly. You don't want to hurt Trey that way.
He rescued his shirt from the playroom floor but didn't put it on. God, he'd come hard. His cock was limp from itmdash;and from going at Trey like a jackhammer. He'd loved knowing Trey was inside Rebecca, loved that each thrust into Trey's ass pushed his friend's cock harder into her. Rebecca couldn't have missed what fucking Trey did to him, how excited he got, how he couldn't have stopped what he was doing for anything. She'd gotten off on it. He shouldn't be embarrassed.
Zane needed to purge his bastard father's pronouncements on "real men" from his brain. So what if he wanted to lay his lips on Trey's that second? So what if he loved touching him as much as he loved touching Rebecca?
Zane was a real man. If he'd been completely gay, that would have been the case. His father was an asshole. After all these years, Zane shouldn't still be fighting this battle.
Dressed now, Rebecca came to him and stroked his arm. He looked at her, and she kissed his shoulder. "Don't regret what you did," she murmured.
He stroked her hair. His hand was big against her delicate cheekbone, different than when he cupped Trey's face. He started to say he had no regrets but decided the moment deserved more honesty.
"I'm trying not to," he said.
Rebecca smiled and stretched up to kiss him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Last Chance
THE rest of the week flew by faster than Rebecca thought possible. Each day felt more relaxed than the last, until she actually began to worry she'd get back into work mode. They made love, they played, they had lazy conversations over Mrs. Penworth's straightforward but tasty food. On Saturday, they took the yacht out, where the men finally relented and let her cook for them.
Afterwards, the night was cool enough that they snuggled in one shared blanket out on the Bad Girl's deck. The captain had anchored in the bay, beyond the reach of the city lights. Thousands of stars danced on the wavering mirror of calm water. The universe was big, and the three of them were small. That they'd come together was a miracle.
"This is the best," she sighed against Zane's chest, happily tucked naked between the men on an island of lounge cushions. "I'm going to remember this forever."
Trey rubbed his cheek on her shoulder. He was behind her with his arm draped across her waist. His hand rested on Zane's belly, fingers playing with his line of hair. "This doesn't have to end."
"I'm going back to work on Monday," she warned them. "And so are you two tycoons."
"Right. But we aren't going to disappear into a puff of smoke. You can see us again."
"We want you to see us again," Zane put in.
They sounded truthful. Rebecca wanted to believe them, but she questioned how long the inclination to keep in touch would last. This week had been intensemdash;like erotic summer camp or the final day of high school. Emotions ran high in those situations. People were convinced they'd made friends for life. Then they went back to their normal lives, and the feelings faded. She took comfort in the fact that she'd see Trey at the Lounge now and thenmdash;at least until he got sidetracked by his next project.
"This isn't casual for us," Trey said as if he could read her thoughts. "We're not capable of loving and leaving you."
She wriggled around to face him, chest aching with the knowledge that she'd never known a man this sweet. "Kiss me when you say that," she teased, hoping to keep tears at bay.
Trey kissed her, and then Zane did, and then the stars had something new to shine down on.
She stole an hour Sunday morning to meet Raoul in Quincy Market. The young driver, Owens, chauffeured her downtown and dropped her at an open-air cafe. She and her head chef had a last few t's to cross before their official start of business, a task they were sweetening with coffee and biscotti.
Zane had dug up another outfit for her from wherever he was getting them. This one paired black jeans and a wraparound shirt printed with colorful Italian tourist scenes. A couple of the scenes were restaurants, and Rebecca hadn't been able to resist, despite the neckline baring more cleavage than she was used to. She supposed the style suited her, because Raoul's eyebrows rose.
"Something agrees with you," he observed slyly once they were done with their hugs. "Maybe to do with the fancy limo that dropped you off?"
She had to answer. Conceivably, her activities could affect their jobs. "Trey Hayworth and I hooked up," she confessed, conveying as much of the truth as she thought germane.
To her surprise, Raoul wasn't horrified. He leaned back in the small cafe chair and smiled. "I thought something like that might happen. I never saw that man look at you like he didn't want to eat you up."
"You're not upset? It is sleeping with the boss. What ifmdash;"
"mdash;the sky falls tomorrow?" her associate joked. "Life is a banquet, chica. Believe it or not, there's more on the buffet than work."
Speechless, Rebecca could only blink at him, which amused Raoul. "Enjoy yourself," he said. "Whatever happens, you and I will land on our feet."
She hadn't known he thought of them that way. He made them sound unbeatable, like a team nothing in the world could knock down. So much faith was amazing.
"You know I love you, right?" she said impulsively. "I might not say it, but I do."
Raoul reached across the table to pat her hand. "I know. I only wonder if you're aware how much everyone loves you."
~
Zane hadn't forgotten his intention to talk to Trey's . . . cousins he supposed they were. He'd obtained the son's number from Elaine and called him the next day. The area code was in Connecticut, the son businesslike and stiff. Just as capable of being formal, Zane explained that he was Trey's business partner and would be handling the matter for the time being.
"Your mother trespassed in our offices," he said, not inclined to mince words. "The last I saw her, our security guards were escorting her back to her hotel. She's since checked out, and I don't know her current whereabouts. If it would set your mind at ease, I can ask a private detective to track her down. Naturally, you can hire one yourself, if you prefer."
Zane's friend-slash-PI was already working on locating Constance Sharp, but Benjamin Sharp didn't need to know that. Zane figured the son's answer would tell him something about what he was dealing with. Somewhat to his surprise, the son said he'd be grateful for whatever Zane's PI could find out. He hung up soon after, leaving Zane hardly more enlightened than before. He didn't know what to make of the brother and sister coming to Boston a few days later to speak face to face. Zane's detective had looked into their backgrounds but discovered no red flags: no arrest records, no money troubles, nothing to indicate this was a scheme. To all appearances, they were simply worried about their mother.
He arranged the meet for Sunday morning in the BBC Imperial Hotel lobby. Neither sibling objected to the discussion being on Zane's home turf.
He told Trey he had a breakfast appointment he couldn't reschedule. He wasn't sure Trey believed him, but since Rebecca was out as well he didn't do more than sigh.
"It isn't Monday yet," Trey reminded him.
This was true, but Zane wasn't convinced they'd make any more progress toward a committed relationship. Rebecca seemed to care about them. She trusted them when it came to sex. She admitted she was more relaxed than she'd ever been, and Trey and Zane could see they were good for her. Those accomplishments notwithstanding, every time they brought up the future, she became evasive.
Is it me? he wondered as he parked the Mercedes in his slot at the hotel's garage. Was Rebecca hesitating because he wasn't a hundred percent at ease with their threesome? Didn't she realize the distance he'd come? Surely he wasn't expected to get over all his uptightness in a week. He loved how the three of them were together. He wanted it to continue. That had to be obvious.
He grimaced and took the stairs to the lobby level, hoping to smooth out his nervous energy. Second-guessing himself was counterproductive, as was splitting his focus. For Trey's sake, he needed to be on his game.
Though not huge, the Imperial's lobby displayed the same attention to detail and quality as all TBBC's businesses. The flowers were fresh, the dark marble floors gleaming. The furnishings were upscale but comfortable. Zane strode across a gorgeous antique carpet to the main sitting area. As he did, a man and a woman rose from an upholstered couch.
They appeared to be in their fifties and were well dressed but not showy. Before she was widowed, Constance Sharp had married the founder of a small chain of convenience stores. The son and daughter ran the business now. Their understated self-presentation suggested they wished to be taken for children of older money than they were. In his experience, 7-Eleven owners didn't go for strings of pearls and expensive beige twin sets.
"Mr. Alexander?" said the son. "I'm Benjamin Sharp, and this is my sister, Antonia. Thank you for seeing us. We're sorry to shove in on you this way."
An apology at the get-go was interesting. So was the deference Benjamin Sharp was showing a younger man. Zane nodded at him and his sister.
"I've reserved a conference room for us to talk in," he said. "Why don't you follow me?"
"Your hotel is very nice," the sister said nervously behind him.
More deference, he thought. And maybe a hint of fawning. He thanked her and held the door for them.
The conference room was a miniature of the lobby, down to the fresh-cut flowers on the side table. The siblings sat on the sofa he indicated, while he sank into an armchair. He leaned back, and they leaned forward on the seat cushions, their body language that of people hoping to please.
"You must think we're very forward," Antonia said, smoothing her skirt over tight-pressed knees. "We wanted to make sure you knew we had no idea Mother planned anything like this."
"You knew something," Zane said calmly. "Or you wouldn't have thought to call Trey Hayworth after your mother disappeared."
"Oh. Well. That wasmdash;" Flustered, Antonia touched her professionally waved short hair. "He's her latest little fixation. Mother's always been a bit . . . unpredictable."
"She's always been a nut," her brother put in gruffly. "We've got her in one of those retirement communities. You know, where old folks live in their own houses, but get assistance if they need it. I'm not convinced it's enough oversight."
"Well, Mother is independent," Antonia defended.
Benjamin's snort said he didn't consider that a good thing. He leaned farther forward, forearms resting on the knees of his conservative suit trousers. "Her doctor insists she doesn't have Alzheimer's. She hasn't wandered off and forgotten who she is. Can I ask what your detective found?"
"We'll reimburse you for his fees, of course," his sister put in.
Seeming to understand this wasn't necessary, Benjamin rubbed the furrow between his brows. For just a second, Zane saw Trey's bone structure in his face.
"She hasn't used her credit card since she checked out of the hotel," Zane answered. "Or withdrawn money from her bank. Unless she has fake ID, she hasn't bought a plane, train, or bus ticket. She also hasn't rented a car. Does she have friends in the area she could be staying with? A former schoolmate maybe?"
Benjamin heaved a sigh. "I'm not sure the old bat ever made a friend in her life. The marvel is she convinced our father to marry her."
Antonia smacked his leg, but didn't contradict him. Zane experienced an unexpected pity for them. Their childhood couldn't have been much easier than Trey'smdash;and no wonder they playacted at coming from a different background than they did.
"If you truly fear for your mother's safety," he said, "you should go to the police."
"Oh no." Antonia wagged her head back and forth. "We couldn't. Mother would throw a fit."
Having met Constance, Zane imagined that would be daunting. "I'd like to ask you both something," he said, making up his mind as he spoke. "About your mother's father."
"You mean the saint?" Benjamin responded sardonically. "According to Mother, no man was ever as good as him. Or smarter. Or more deserving of honors the world was forever denying him."
"Did you know him?"
Benjamin shook his head. "He died before we were born. We have some older cousins who knew him. They claim he could make their skin crawl just by laying eyes on them." He stopped, drew breath, and started again. "Those things our mother is so desperate to have your business partner deny? I wager they damn well happened. I don't know exactly what our grandfather did to our mom, but she sure as hell is screwed up."
It seemed a relief for him to say it out loud. Zane wondered if he had before.
"You're not going to sue her, are you?" Antonia broke in pleadingly. "That would make such a mess."
He understood the reason for their visit then. They didn't want a scandal to ***** the civilized patina they'd laid across their lives. "It's not in my immediate plans," he said.
He got up, and the siblings did as well. He shook Benjamin's hand. "I'll keep you informed if the PI turns up news."
"Thank you," the son acknowledged. "We'll be in town a few days."
His sister began to interrupt, but Benjamin shushed her with a hard look. He, at least, understood when shutting your mouth was the best strategy.
~
The meeting weighed on Zane's thoughts for the rest of the afternoonmdash;how one man's sins affected so many. He wondered if he should tell Trey he'd met his cousins. Would Trey want to know them? Did they have enough in common beyond the blood tie? He knew he didn't have the right to shield Trey from making his own decisions but couldn't seem to stop himself. He wished he'd gotten a better bead on the Sharps, good or bad.
Rebecca returned from her appointment distracted too. Zane expected this was due to turning her mind to work. Monday was tomorrow. She'd be back at the Lounge early.
She didn't even try to talk her way into Mrs. P's kitchen to cook dinner.
Trey attempted to de-mope the mood by dragging them to the theater in the basement to watch a movie. Zane was aware of cars blowing up and the hero saving the world. Other than that, the plot slipped by him unnoticed.
"Maybe we should turn in," Rebecca said after Trey brought the lights back up. "We all have work tomorrow."
When Zane agreed, Trey muttered they were pitiful.
Back upstairs, Rebecca called dibs on the suite's bathroom. She'd become a fan of its multiple pulsating showerheads. Zane sincerely hoped that wouldn't be what she missed most about her time with them.
He glowered as he undressed. Standing with him in the roomy custom closet, Trey smacked Zane's diaphragm with the back of his hand. As intended, the sting caught his attention.
"Cut it out," Trey said.
"I'm annoyed that she's going," Zane replied.
"Going. Not gone. She's right behind that door with a dozen steamy sprays shooting over her hot body."
Zane was stripped to his boxer briefs, the stretch of which gave his cock room to twitch. "She called dibs. She wants the shower to herself."
"And you can't think of anything that would change her mind."
He could think of a lot of things, one in particular. Maybe Trey knew which, because he put his hand on Zane's shoulder. His eyes held a touch of sadness Zane didn't like. "Don't you want to end this week memorably?"
He did, maybe more than Trey knew. He ached to keep Rebecca, to add her to the wonderful portion of his life he'd been lucky to build with Trey. What did his hangups matter compared to that? Didn't he owe it to Trey and himself to make this last-chance pitch as well as he could?
He stroked Trey's forearm to his elbow, ruffling the silky hairs and causing him to shiver. Watching Trey's pupils darken lifted his prick some more.
"Finish undressing," Zane said throatily. "You're going to help me convince Rebecca she'd enjoy company."
~
Aside from the pool and the library andmdash;as of tonightmdash;the gilded mini-movie theater, Trey and Zane's bathroom was her favorite place in the house. Okay, the underground playroom was cool as well, plus the kitchen, from the peek she'd had at it, but the giant bath was definitely up there in her top ten.
Bigger than her bedroom at home, the bath had a glittering crystal fringe chandelier, pale green silk wallpaper, and an array of plumbing more elaborate than two American men should know how to use. Rebecca was so in love with the shower's zillion body sprays that she hadn't yet tried the freestanding, reheating soaker tub.
If she'd had this bathroom in her house, she might never get muscle knots.
She half-hummed, half-sang a Pink song as she soaped herself. She pushed aside the knowledge that this might be her last time here. She'd remember it. She'd remember everything.
Glass divided the shower space from the rest of the room, and she had her back to it. Given how many sprays she had on and the roar of the water, it was no wonder the men's entrance was drowned out.
She jumped and squeaked as two warm hands settled on her shoulders from behind.
"You're a rock star?" Trey teased her for her song choice, his lips right beside her ear. "Does that make me and Zane your groupies?"
She turned to face him. The men had stepped into the white marble enclosure, towering and naked. Rebecca became a different sort of wet when faced with their male beauty.
"Wow," she said, taking in their taut muscles and tall erections. "If you're my groupies, I really rate."
Trey's smile was beautiful. "Zane and I wondered if you could stand company."
"No," Zane corrected, drawing Trey's head around. "Not company. Not yet."
"Not company?" Trey repeated.
Rebecca's heart skipped a beat as Zane dragged a fingertip down the centerline of Trey's water-beaded chest. Maybe Trey's heart skipped too. He sucked in a gasp loud enough to hear.
"I think she'd prefer a show." Zane's attention followed his finger across Trey's navel. "The show she secretly wanted to see that first morning when you and I shared the shower in here."
Zane didn't touch Trey's erection, but it jumped anyway. "A show with just you and me?"
"Exactly." Zane looked into Trey's eyes. The mist was clinging to Trey's lashes, the sparkle making him seem dreamy. "You and me making love to each other in front of her. She can watch as closely as she wants without being distracted."
Trey's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "You sure?"
"I'm sure." Zane shifted his gaze to her. "That's something you want, isn't it?"
She'd been holding her breath without realizing. "Yes," she said on an outward gust of air.
Zane smiled, his blue eyes simultaneously hot and affectionate. "I'd kiss you," he said, "but I'm saving that for later."
He kissed Trey instead, holding his face, and then his biceps, and then Trey broke and plastered the two of them front to front in a full embrace. The move shocked through Rebecca as if it had been done to her. This was how they'd kiss if they were alonemdash;hungry and hot and hard. In the center of the spray, the men sucked each other's tongues, their chiseled jaws and cheeks working. Trey was moaning long and low. Zane moved his hips against his lover's, rubbing their thick erections side by side.
"Shit," Trey gasped, yanking his head back for air. His hands clamped Zane's buttocks to increase the pressure.
"Feel something you like, buddy?" Zane teased him.
He undulated his pelvis and Trey groaned. Something about the sound was so uninhibited, so personal that Rebecca took a step back. She wouldn't have thought Zane was paying attention, but his left hand snapped out to catch her wrist.
"No," he said, his face streaming with water, his lips reddened from kissing. "Stay close. You can . . . you can touch us if you want. We're just not touching you right now."
She heard the unsureness in his voice. Despite setting this in motion, he wasn't completely confident about baring this side of him to her. "You're okay with that," she not-quite-asked.
"I want it," he said roughly. "Like you wouldn't believe. If you put your hands on me while I'm fucking him, I'm going to be so excited I might explode."
Her heart pounded in her throat at his intensity. For a moment, she couldn't speak.
"Would you like that?" he asked, actually worried by her pause.
"Oh yes," she assured him with a ragged laugh. "Like you wouldn't believe."
"Me too," Trey piped up, laughing like she was. "You have no idea the daydreams I've had that started just like that."
The space between the marble walls was filling up with steam. Even so, she and Trey witnessed the hot flush that darkened Zane's cheekbones.
Growling softly with longing, he bent to kiss Trey's neck. His hands moved over Trey's naked body, self-consciously at first and then getting into it. Trey touched him back, writhing as Zane stroked him. Zane wasn't afraid to manhandle him, pinching his nipples and butt, giving his balls a tighter squeeze than Rebecca would have dared to use.
Given Trey's fondness for a hint of pain, this cranked him to a very excited state. Zane's kisses shifted to his sharp little nipples, turning to love bites there. The marks he left on Trey's chest were red. Rebecca suspected they'd linger.
Unable to help herself, she touched one. Trey whimpered his oh-that-hurts-so-good sound. Taking this as a signal, Zane began to go to his knees.
"No," Trey panted, grabbing his shoulders to stop him. "I'm too close. You'll push me over. Let me suck you instead."
He dropped before Zane could stop him, water spray bouncing off his broad shoulders as he drove his wonderfully expressive lips down Zane's cock.
Zane couldn't hide how much he liked that. He forked his fingers into Trey's hair and made a garbled sound. His neck fell back and his eyes closed with bliss. His hips pushed at Trey even as he tried to control his arousal by deepening his breathing. Trey took his thickened shaft eagerly. Maybe because he had a cock himself and knew its mysteries, neither hesitation nor embarrassment marked the treatment he gave to Zane's. He wasn't deep throating him, but he had to be coming close. His hands gripped Zane's hipbones, perhaps to prevent him from accidentally forcing the issue.
The slurping noise of his lips and tongue caused her sex to tighten.
"God," Zane gasped, every muscle in his abdomen gone rigid. "That feels so good. I'm going to fuck your mouth too far."
Trey pulled free with a pop. "Hold his base," he said to her. "Squeeze your fingers around him as tight as you can."
The order startled her, but she complied. Zane's cock was incredibly hard, not only pointing upward but also arching slightly back toward him. He moaned when her hand gripped him, and louder when Trey swallowed him down again. Rebecca shuddered as Trey's lips bumped her fingers.
Zane had said they wouldn't touch her, but he couldn't resist wrapping his arm around her waist to hitch her close to him. His side was hot, his muscles bunched with tension. She guessed the squeeze she had on his base wasn't tight enough. Cursing, Zane released his guiding hold on Trey's head. He grabbed his own testicles instead, tugging his sac to keep himself from coming.
"Ahh," he sighed as the urge relaxed. He rolled his hips into Trey's mouth more smoothly. "God, Trey, that feels soo good."
She saw Trey grin around his cock. She imagined Zane felt his lips curving.
"Fucker," Zane responded, very locker-room jocular. "Jesus, you're good at that."
His trick of tugging down his balls won him a few extra minutes of oral enjoyment. He didn't let go of her as he neared his limit, but his arm began to tighten spasmodically.
"Okay," he finally said. "Enough."
Trey was already pulling off him. He came to his feet with an assist from the marble wall. Inspired by what he'd been doing, his erection was as big and upright as Zane'smdash;though shaped differently at the head. Zane touched the broad silky surface with the hand that wasn't holding her. The skin of Trey's glans appeared to grow redder behind the swipe of Zane's thumb.
"God, you're beautiful," Zane breathed as a bead of pre-cum squeezed from Trey's slit. He smoothed the fluid around until Trey shivered. When he looked up at Trey, both their gazes were laser hot.
Trey kissed him, slow and tender and deep. Almost as tall as Zane, he only had to stretch up a bit.
"I love you," he said after he pulled back, his goldy green eyes swimming with emotion. "You've brought more sweetness into my life than anyone could deserve."
A rivulet rolled down Zane's cheek that wasn't shower water.
"Trey," he murmured, caressing the other man's trimmed stubble. His eyes said he loved Trey back, something Trey obviously knew.
Seeming amused that he didn't say the words, Trey broke into a brilliant grin. "Better bend over, baby. This rocket is ready to launch, and I'm thinking you'd like it firing up your ass."
Zane's jaw fell with surprise. Trey didn't give him a chance to make an objection.
"Oh no, boyfriend," he said, wagging his finger from side to side. "You took me in front of her already. It's my turn to show off."
"Your turn tomdash; I wasn'tmdash; I didn'tmdash;"
"Doesn't matter why you did it," Trey said. "Fair is fair. Plus, you know I'll make you like it."
His fingers trailed down Zane's front, over his pectorals, around his navel, gathering up Zane's cock and stroking. He handled his friend's equipment with firmness and confidence, a confidence that was justified. Zane's face twisted with pleasure, the expression deepening as Trey squeezed and rubbed his glans. Over the course of the week, Rebecca noticed he liked playing with Zane's foreskin. He used his palm as well as his fingers, which earned him a sharp gasp from his victim. Satisfied he'd made his point, Trey let go with a smirk.
"Fine," Zane surrendered. "But you're not making me scream this time."
"We'll see," Trey said, pausing to wink at her.
This time? Rebecca thought, her insides liquid and pulsing. Trey had made Zane scream before?
"Why don't I, uh, grab supplies from the cabinet?" she said hoarsely.
Trey beamed at her like she was the cleverest woman ever.
By the time she returned, Zane faced the shower's longest wall, the one with the bench she used for leg shaving. He'd grabbed a pair of vertical metal handles that were anchored into the marble, maybe five feet off the floor. She'd wondered if the holds were there for sex, as Zane's action seemed to confirm. He was bent forward, butt out and back twisting sensually as Trey massaged it and licked his spine. The view of Zane's long clenching legs was pretty spectacular.
Trey was laughing at Zane's curses. "She's coming back," she heard him assure Zane over the water. "Don't be so impatient."
"Then don't tease me."
"I have to." Trey nuzzled his tailbone. "Making you crazy is too much fun."
Rebecca was a little sorry to interrupt. "Here," she said, holding out the lube.
The laughter in Trey's eyes settled into warmth as he accepted it. "Thank you."
She bit her lip, incapable of saying more. Smiling, Trey squeezed the stuff down Zane's *****. When the stream reached the spot he wanted, he pushed it gently in with both thumbs. Zane's knuckles whitened on the handholds.
"His nerves like this," Trey said in a quiet voice. He moved his thumbs slowly in and out, essentially fucking him with them. "He has a lot right around his entrance. In the right context, the stimulation is very sexual."
This context seemed to qualify. "Christ," Zane said, unable to resist arching his rear closer.
Trey fulfilled the wordless request with more stroking, seeming to enjoy massaging him. Only when Zane whimpered did he pull away. He washed his hands in the shower, then held out his palm to her. Rebecca supplied a condom, thrilling to the sight of him rolling it down his big erection.
He didn't look at her again. Letting her play voyeur, he reached up and wrapped his right hand beneath Zane's on the wall handle. He settled the other on his hip, presumably to steady him.
"Ready?" he asked his friend.
"For God's sake, get on with it," Zane snapped.
Trey grinned, taking this as praise and not insult. Since the bench was handy, he swung one bare foot onto it. This put their respective parts at the perfect level. With a casualness that stopped her breath, Trey prodded Zane's anus with his cock, adjusted, and then pressed smoothly in.
"Fu-u-ck," Zane moaned, pleasure stretching out the word.
"See how good . . . waiting makes this?" Trey said.
Zane groaned and twisted his ass around Trey's intrusion. "Do it," he ordered. "Fuck me now, or I'll squeeze it off."
Trey laughed and began to swing.
She didn't think they forgot she was there, but after a point they lost their self-consciousness. Maybe pleasure simply overwhelmed them, and they had to give in to it. She loved watching both their faces. Trey's shoulder-length hair was wet and twisted behind his neck, Zane's too short to obscure his expression. After a bit of Trey rolling in and out, Zane shifted one of his grips from the wall handle onto Trey's buff arm. Trey got more serious then, which Zane seemed to appreciate. Relying on groans and broken words, he pleaded with him to go faster.
The evidence of the men's strength enthralled her. No matter what they were doing, they were definitely male.
"Yes," Zane said once Trey had achieved a certain pace. "There. Deeper."
Trey grunted and gave him a hammer strike.
"Fuck," Zane gasped, his head lashing.
The last thrust seemed to have struck its desired target, but this wasn't enough for Trey. He kneed Zane's legs wider with his own. This seemed to restrict Zane's ability to react. He was at the mercy of how deep and fast his friend chose to go. His powerful body struggled, though it also seemed to love the trap. The sounds he made were raw, the jerking of his cock frantic. Trey released Zane's hipbone to grab his balls, cupping them snug against his body. Though the men's main anchor was Trey's single handhold on the wall, Trey went at Zane so fast he could have been a machine.
"Fuck," Zane said again, eyes squeezed, face strained. "Fuck, fuck."
"Rub him off," Trey panted through his wild thrusting. "Grab his penis now."
Zane's cock was red with excitement, thick, strutted, like a horn pointing up from his abdomen. Trey's thrusts were shaking it, but she grabbed it around the middle, wanking her fist as hard and fast toward the crest as she'd seen men do in porn films.
Timing it perfectly, Trey added an extra oomph to his upward drives.
Zane's mouth stretched wide a second before he let out a roaring shout.
His cock convulsed in her hand. Semen shot into the shower's spray, jet after jet, like he was coming for twenty men. He made a noise like this hurt. She would have stopped rubbing, but he slapped his hand around hers, milking his ejaculation to the last drop. He didn't stop even after he started softening.
She guessed it hadn't hurt. She guessed it had felt really good.
Zane's breath wavered out on a sighing moan, his body bending forward again.
"Wow," he said. "That was . . ." He swallowed and had to stop speaking.
Trey let out a little laugh. "I believe the phrase you're searching for is lsquo;hell to the fuckin' yeah.'"
He pulled out and dropped to the bench, his knees giving out temporarily.
He was nearly as hard as when he'd started. Weariness rather than an orgasm caused him to flag. Watching his prick stick up even as his head dropped with exhaustion clenched her pussy on itself. She knew exactly how she wanted to work off the excitement the men had inspired in her.
"Phew," he said. "You up for finishing this with me?"
Her eyes jerked away from his groin. Trey was looking straight at her. He laughed at her expression. "Yes, I'm talking to you. You're the one I saved this for."
"Really?"
"Absolutely. How many times does a man like me get to live out his hottest daydreams?" As many times as he wanted if the person he was asking was Rebecca. She didn't know how to say this, and he held out his hand to Zane. "A little help here, please?"
Zane helped him to his feet and also to tidy up. Zane's own hands shook with tiredness, but Trey liked his assistance. He squirmed as Zane re-dressed his erection. She suspected Zane was smoothing the latex a little better than it needed. When he stroked one finger around Trey's balls, the caress was plainly gratuitous.
"That's more help than I need!" Trey objected with a grin.
Zane grinned back. "You two put me out of commission. I want to make sure you're up for doing both our parts with her."
"Well, now I'm too up for it," Trey said, his mood just as playful. He turned to her. "I hoped you're primed, sweetheart. This isn't likely to be my finest hour."
Rebecca padded to him to twine her arms behind his neck. His hot green eyes were the only eyes in the world right then. She'd never forget their twinkle; never stop being grateful for having these memories. Seeing the emotions her gaze held sped up his breathing.
"Your finest two minutes ought to do it," she predicted.
He took her at her word. His hands hoisted her bottom, his delicious mouth dropping to conquer hers. That was better than awesome. He had no idea how she'd hungered for his tongue.
"Mm," he moaned at the ease with which his hardness slid into her. "Mm, Rebecca, you are ready."
She couldn't blush; she was too busy tightening her calves to pull her sheath down him. God, she needed this, needed his heated thickness stretching her sexual aches.
Maybe he sensed that. With another moan, he took two strides and flattened her into a wall.
She gasped with pleasure at how deep this drove his cock.
Trey's body trembled against and inside hers. "I held back for this," he whispered. "Zane was sweet as hell, and I wanted to go with him, but I held back to do this with you."
He made her quivermdash;with his words, with his rock-hard body, with his breath-stealing willingness to share his soul. Rebecca's body clamped around him, but he didn't press in farther. Instead, he drew back, sucked air, and thrust in even more emphatically.
Rebecca's nerves all moaned: oh my God. Possibly his did too. They groaned together, her nails digging into his gorgeous shoulders as he clenched her bottom. Neither of them could speak. Trey growled and gripped her tighter, his sea-bright eyes an inch from hers.
Now, said his lips as his erection throbbed inside her.
He didn't stop again. He pulled back for ten strong strokesmdash;all long, all hard, all intense beyond measuring. She knew Zane was watching; she heard his quickened breathing nearby but couldn't look at him. His presence wound her up all the same. The sensations inside her pussy approached pain as her body reached for its peak. At the eleventh stroke, she came with a cry so loud it echoed around the room.
Trey groaned back and poured his pleasure out. He came not only because of her but Zane. The storm of longing stirred up by taking Zane was now buffeting her.
When he stopped shoving into her and quaking, all of them were done in.
"I need a bed," she moaned, squished between Trey and the silk-papered wall, which he was using to hold them up. "If you put me down, I promise I'll try to walk."
"You're nice and warm," Trey mumbled in complaint. "I don't want to move."
Zane added his two cents by swatting Trey's bare ass.
"Nope," Trey retorted. "Can't get a rise out of me with those tricks right now."
"Haha," Zane said. "Let Rebecca down, and I'll help you both into the bedroom."
With a few more grumbles, Trey let her go. He could walk, it turned outmdash;better than her anyway. Zane was left to bring up the rear. He flipped off the bathroom lights and began to shut the door.
~
Zane's mind wasn't on what he was doing. Thoughts of what he'd just experienced filled his head. He'd enjoyed it start to finish, and he remained okay with it now. He wanted to do it againmdash;though maybe not until after he'd taken Rebecca on his own. Watching Trey have her was inspiring. Zane got ideas for things he wanted to do to her.
With a few of those ideas occupying his attention, it was only after he swatted down the light switch that he realized Rebecca had left the supply cabinet open. The thing was a reproduction of old-style pharmacy storage. Constructed in zinc, it included glassed-in shelves for stuff like towels, and drawers for the sort of items Rebecca had brought him and Trey. Unfamiliar with where they put things, she'd pulled all the drawers open. Too interested in not missing their show, she hadn't shut them again.
The cabinet was close to the door. Zane didn't bother turning the light back on before he stepped to it. If he had, he might not have noticed the tiny red eye blinking at the back of the middle drawer's clutter.
Fuck, he thought, his chest going icy hot.
"Trey," he said, low and sharp.
Trey padded back to his side. "What is that?"
Zane slapped the overhead light on and dug out a small black box he knew he hadn't put in there. "Surveillance equipment." Feeling sick, he turned the thing over in his palm. "Wi-Fi. Sound activated. Probably a powerful battery in here. This is expensive gear."
Trey cursed. He shot a quick look over his shoulder, but Rebecca wasn't in hearing range. "Where's the lens?"
Zane's stomach clenched. "If I wanted to catch something salacious, I'd aim it where it could see the shower."
Trey immediately strode to the enclosure. Now that he knew to look, he found it in less than a minute: a thumbnail sized wireless fisheye adhered to the top of one marble wall with waterproof adhesive. Zane had been facing it while Trey fucked him. It would have seen everything.
Hands shaking, he pried open the box he'd found. As he did, the power light winked off.
Trey returned to his side to peer at its innards. "There's no storage chip in there."
"No," Zane agreed tightly. "It's sending the signal from the lens somewhere else, probably through the house network."
"It wasn't Rebecca," Trey said defensively.
"Fuck's sake," Zane snapped, still speaking in a low tone. "I know that. Rebecca wouldn't do this in a million years." He set the opened box on a stack of towels, not wanting to touch it. "It had to have been someone on the staff. Getting access is too difficult for strangers."
"They've all been with us for years."
"All except one," Zane corrected. "The one employee we didn't vet as closely as the others because he's related to Mrs. Pmdash;the staff member we trust the most."
"Owens," Trey said, hard and flat.
Zane opened his mouth to agree when Rebecca spoke from the door. He didn't know how long she'd been there, but her pallor said she'd added up the pieces she'd overheard.
"I think I know why. I just remembered where I've seen him before."
Zane and Trey responded at the same time. "You've seen him before?"
"Last Monday. At our VIP sneak peek for the Lounge. He, uh, helped that supermodel you said wasn't your girlfriend out of her limo. I wasn't paying him much attention. I assumed he was her driver."
Zane recalled the uncomfortable weekend he'd spent with her. "That wasn't Missy's limo, it was ours. I wanted to get shut of her, so I took a taxi from the airport. I told Owens to drop her wherever she liked. He knew who she was. He seemed a little star struck. I thought it was funny."
"Not so funny now," Trey said. "Missy would have been in the mood for blood, you having just dumped her. I guess your ex-not-girlfriend and our strapping young driver found mutual interests."
"That is not good," Zane said.
"That is very not good," Trey emphasized. He lifted his hands at Zane's look. "Sorry. I know you kind of liked her, but that glorified swimsuit hanger is poison. The first time I met her, I knew she was hoping to stash her eggs in your basket."
Zane hadn't known Trey disliked her. He'd been aware Missy had ambitions. He simply hadn't thought they were his problem. He'd been wrong about that. People like her didn't set up secret surveillance just to watch it themselves. People like her had E! News on speed dial so reporters could "accidentally" catch her on dates. God, he'd been stupid. Owens had probably been spying for her when he walked in on them in the pool, maybe hoping to tell his new famous girlfriend what they'd been up to. And that business with him and Rebecca supposedly needing help assembling the bed . . . Owens had wanted an excuse to get into their secure playroom. Probably Zane ought to be grateful he'd only managed to plant a sex-cam here.
He shook his head to rid it of those thoughts. Every minute they delayed was one too many. "We need to get to Owens before he sends Missy this footage."
Trey threw him a pair of pants and grabbed one for himself. "I say we need to beat Owens to a pulp, but I'll settle for shutting down his snooping."
~
Rebecca wanted to come with them, but Zane backed up Trey's opinion that she should stay in the house.
"I don't want you any more involved than you are. Don't make us waste time arguing. We need to confront Owens now."
"We won't do anything stupid," Trey promised, which he suspected was her main concern.
The chauffeur lived in the apartment above the ivy-veiled garage. If luck was with them, he hadn't been watching the feed come in and didn't know what he had. That hope died the moment they saw him behind his lit-up windows. He was hurrying from his dresser to his bed, carrying clothing to a suitcase.
"Shit," Zane said. "He's packing. He must have heard us find his equipment."
They bounded up the outside stairs with Zane in the lead. Trey's best friend didn't bother knocking. He lowered his former quarterback's shoulder and busted in the door.
The apartment was one big room. Owens spun around to them.
"Stay where you are!" he demanded in a quavering voice.
He had a dark object in his hand. He was pointing a gun at them. Trey's heart had a second to trip over itself before Zane roared and rushed Owen.
The driver was a big kid, but he had no chance against Zane's determination and athletic skill. The mere fact that 6 foot 4 worth of solid muscle was barreling toward him rendered him too scared to shoot. He froze, and Zane hit him, the heels of his palms targeting his lungs. The blow threw him back. Zane's momentum carried both of them onto the bed, on top of the suitcase. There, they struggled for about ten seconds for control of Owens' shooting hand, which Zane held wrenched above his head. Losing patience, Zane did something to his wrist. Owens cried out, and the gun clattered to the floor.
Not required for the wrestling match, Trey kicked it farther away. The weapon looked a lot smaller now that it wasn't aimed at them.
"You can't . . . kill me!" Owens panted, cradling his possibly broken wrist. "Even you'd go to jail!"
Zane sat on top of him, hands trapping his upper arms, subduing him with his greater weight. "What is your damage? We hired you as a favor."
"A favor to my fucking aunt," Owens spat, trying to wriggle free. "You and she think you're such hot shit. The famous bad boys. Ooh, how awesome to work for you! Everyone's supposed to kiss your stupid billionaire asses. The truth is you're nothing but a pair of jumped-up homos trying to pretend you like girls."
Zane growled, the sound more irritated than enraged. Owens flinched anyway.
"You hit me again, I'll sue," he blustered. "You already broke my wrist."
"You had a fucking gun in your hand!" Zane shook his head at the kid's stupidity. Trey knew then that Zane wouldn't hurt him. Owens wasn't an equal enough opponent, and Zane's history didn't allow him to play bully. That was too bad. Trey wouldn't have minded seeing the kid with at least one more broken body part. Since Zane was setting the standard, Trey stepped to the side of the bed and looked down at him.
"Where's the footage you took?"
"Somewhere you'll never find it," Owens sneered.
If never meant five seconds, his claim was true. The little shit's gaze cut left, where a laptop sat on a coffee table. Trey strode to it. Owens' email program was open. Trey's spirits sank when he saw the last message sent. They weren't going to catch a break tonight.
"He emailed a video file to a [email#160;protected] /* */"
"Anybody else?" Zane asked.
"Not that I can see on first glance."
"Shut it off," Zane said. "We'll go through the hard drive after we deal with this idiot."
"Hey!" Owens objected. "That's my property."
Zane gave him a look, swung off him, and retrieved the gun from the floor. Once he'd checked the safety, he tucked it into the back waistband of his trousers. Owens had just enough sense not to protest that.
"You have five minutes to finish packing," Zane said. "Since you seem a little slow, I'll explain that you're fired, and you shouldn't use me as a reference. You violated the nondisclosure agreement you signed when we hired you, and for that you can be sued."
"You wouldn't dare," Owens huffed. "I'll turn you and your ass-licking butt-buddy into laughing stocks."
Zane seemed to take this coolly, but a vein ticked at his temple. "Considering your new best friend is sure to do that anyway, that's hardly an effective threat."
Owens sat up, about to spout off again. Zane stopped him with narrowed eyes. "I don't give in to blackmail, boy. Not from you and not from her."
"She has lawyers too," Owens retorted.
"I'm sure she does, but if you think she'll pay them to work for anyone but herself, you're stupider than you look. She has what she wants from you. You'll be lucky if she returns your calls."
"She cares about me! She said I'm the best lover she ever had."
Zane simply smiled at him. Jumped-up homo or not, Trey expected that title belonged to him. "Are you planning to pack? You've got maybe three minutes left."
Owens packed, hefted his suitcase, then stomped like a surly teenager down the outside stairs. He owned a scooter, which he putted down the long drive. Thanks to his broken wrist, the machine wobbled at intervals. Trey joined Zane at the window to watch.
"Much as I hate to admit it, you did the right thing not beating him up. He's still Mrs. P's nephew."
Zane grimaced, his frustration showing now that Owens was gone. "Missy will give him his comeuppance. What do you want to bet he'll dial her the minute he's off the grounds?"
"Are you going to call her?"
"And say what? She'd enjoy it too much if I beg, and I refuse to pay her off. Money isn't what she's after anyway. This is about revenge." He covered his face. "When that film goes public, the media will have a field day."
"We have friends in the media. Maybe they'd agree to keep a lid on this."
"It won't matter. Missy can post the file on fucking YouTube or a hundred of her fan's blogs. Our lawyers might get it taken down, but not before it's seenmdash;and copiedmdash;who knows how many times."
Zane's arm muscles were hard with tension when Trey rubbed them. Zane wasn't in the mood for sympathy.
"It's my own damn fault," he said bitterly. "I'm the one who hid what he was and gave them something to expose."
"Everyone has a right to keep their private life private."
Zane snorted. "Not me. And not you, apparently. I'm sorry, Trey. You saw what Missy was. I should have known better."
"I wouldn't have predicted she'd do this. Anyway, maybe we should worry about Rebecca. She's in that footage too."
Trey's reminder hardened Zane's face. "Damn it. She doesn't deserve this." He looked toward the house and sighed. "We should go back. Warn her what happened."
"We can't let her go home tomorrow," Trey said.
"No," Zane agreed. "Whatever it takes, we protect her until this blows over."
Unlike Owens, they went quietly down the garage stairs.
"So," Trey said, because he truly couldn't leave it alone. "Were you trying to give me a heart attack by running toward a guy with a gun?"
"He wouldn't have hit me," Zane said. "He was too scared to aim. Besides, sometimes the best defensemdash;"
"mdash;is a good offense. I remember."
They'd stopped on the walk at the bottom of the steps. Zane squeezed Trey's trapezius exactly the way he used to on the football field in high school, when they'd had to hide what they were to each other. The potentially lethal danger they'd just faced had shaken Trey. At the squeezemdash;and the remindermdash;emotion sheened his eyes.
Zane saw this and touched his face. "No way could I let that pipsqueak shoot you."
"Good to know," he said roughly.
Zane pulled Trey to him, holding him hard and tight. This would have been the time to say I love you . . . if he'd been anyone but him. Trey usually didn't mind not hearing it, but right then wasn't usual. Rather than complain, Trey hugged him back. Zane had taken a risk tonight. To expose the other side of his nature to Rebecca, and then have this happen, must have seemed like the universe reaching down to smack him. Trey himself wasn't looking forward to total strangers passing judgment on what should have been private acts. Bad enough that Owens and that bitch had seen.
He rubbed Zane's back and let go of him.
"Rebecca will be wondering what happened," he said.
To his relief, his voice was steady.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Fallout
REBECCA'S relief when the men returned safe and unbloodied was dizzying. She jumped up from the bed and hugged them in turn.
"God," Zane said, bending to squeeze her. "I'm so sorry you're getting dragged into this."
"It's done," she responded, stroking his golden hair. His face was pressed to her neck. She looked over his head to Trey. "I take it you didn't kill Owens."
"Broken wrist," Trey said. "Confiscated laptop. Fired and gone from the house. I'm afraid he sent the file already. To Mystique, like you guessed."
Rebecca had concluded that from Zane's apology. She reminded herself she was good in a crisis. This wasn't going to break her. She pushed back gently from Zane's embrace. "I was thinking while I was waiting here. If you can't convince that woman not to use the footagemdash;"
"I doubt we can," Zane warned.
"Then maybe you should prepare a statement. Come out as bi voluntarily. As if you're not ashamed, but you wanted to keep it private. That'll take at least half the wind out of the gossips' sails."
Zane sat on the edge of the mattress to think while Trey very carefully refrained from commenting. Zane might not like this, but he was too smart not to follow her reasoning. "I'd have to act fast," he said. "I doubt Missy will wait to deploy this bomb."
"We could call Evan," Trey said. "He's handled damage control before. You could record something quick tonight. mdash;Evan is a friend of ours who's a lawyer," he added for her benefit.
"All right," Zane said, his face determined. "I'll call him now."
He'd only half risen when Rebecca heard her cell phone's ringtone. She got up to get it, pretty sure someone calling her at this hour wasn't a good thing. When she answered, her brother Charlie was on the line. She returned to the bed.
"Are you all right?" she asked, big sister worry kicking in. "Did something bad happen?"
"Not to me," he said in a funny voice. "Maybe this is a misunderstanding, but someone saw a sex-tape online of you and Zane Alexander and that other guy from TBBC in a shower. He sent me and Pete a copy. I didn't watch, and I guess there was steam blocking some of it, but Pete said he thought it was really you."
"Crap." Her free hand rose to her brow. This certainly settled the question of whether Mystique was serious.
"Rebecca?" Charlie asked when she didn't say it was a mistake. His voice had jumped half an octave. He always was the sensitive one.
"Okay," she said, forced to bite the bullet. "The tape is really me, and it's really Zane Alexander and Trey Hayworth. We were filmed without our knowledge."
Trey lowered himself to her other side, both men's presence bolstering her. Your brother? Trey mouthed, and she nodded.
"Let me talk to him," Zane said, easing the phone from her.
Rebecca would have stopped him, but he moved away too fast. He took the cell to the arch that opened into the sitting room. From the sound of his side of the conversation, he was accepting a chewing out from both twins.
She supposed they were kicking themselves for tricking her into meeting Zane at the photo shoot.
"Let him handle it," Trey said, giving the back of her neck a squeeze. "They're your brothers. They love you. They can't curse at you the way they can at him."
"This isn't Zane's fault," Rebecca protested.
"They'll think it is. They'll think he should have protected you better."
Maybe Zane thought so as well. He didn't appear ticked off after he hung up. "I told them to come here," he said. "In case the media track them down."
Rebecca covered her mouth. Was the scandal going to be that big? Trey put his arm around her shoulders, which was comforting and not at the same time.
"Your brother Pete told me something interesting," Zane said. "The footage was posted anonymously. Missy seems not to want to admit she's the source."
"That is interesting," Trey agreed.
Rebecca didn't see why it mattered. Either way, the shit was going to hit their fan.
The boys were still angry when they arrived. They didn't goggle over the mansion the way they would have otherwise.
"We're here for you," Pete said to her. "Because the three of us stick together. We don't care about hiding from the press."
His fierceness took her aback, along with the fact that Charlie echoed it.
"Who you sleep with is your business. That stupid model should be sent to Siberia. In her bikini." Charlie's arms were crossed. He was glaring somewhat illogically at Trey, who'd joined her to greet the boys in the luxurious front hall. Zane was in the library with the tall dark lawyer, working out the fine points of his statement.
"We're very sorry," Trey said to Charlie. "We didn't take care of your sister like we should have."
"You didn't take care of her at all!"
"Charlie," Rebecca scolded. "That's not fair. They took . . . they took very good care of me before this happened."
"They dazzled you with their money. We thought Zane was a nice guy, but he and his buddy here just wanted you for their plaything."
"They didn't," Pete broke in unexpectedly. Charlie gaped at his brother. "They didn't. I watched that tape andmdash;okay, I totally didn't need to see my sister doing thatmdash;but I could tell they cared about her. Anybody with eyes could. Sure, some people are going to be outraged, but some will just be jealous. Love is love, Charlie. It's not always tidy."
Rebecca didn't know whether she or Charlie was more flummoxed. Charlie's mouth worked a moment before he glowered at Trey again. "You love her?"
"I do," Trey said, the ghost of a smile playing around his lips.
"And Zane?"
"I've seen indications he feels the same."
Rebecca's heart beat faster for each statement. She turned wide eyes to Trey, who smiled angelically at her. She wanted to say she loved him too, but her mouth felt stuck. God, was she as bad at this as Zane?
If she was, Trey let her off the hook as easily as he did his friend.
"Why don't you boys pick a guest room or two?" he suggested. "Then, since I doubt any of us will sleep, maybe we can convince Rebecca to whip up a snack."
In spite of everything, she inhaled in involuntary excitement at the thought of having free rein in that big kitchen.
Charlie didn't miss the soundmdash;or what it signified.
"Okay," he said grudgingly to Trey. "Maybe you do know our sister better than you would a plaything."
~
Evan really came through for Zane. Though it was the middle of the night, he'd driven right over . . . with his own camera equipment. He said he often taped clients to prep testimony, to coach them on how to present themselves as honest and forthright.
"Some people sound like they're lying even when they're not," he explained.
Zane guessed that wasn't his problem. Once they'd hammered out what he'd say and practiced a few times, Evan only filmed him twice before he was satisfied.
"You don't want to be too polished," his old friend said. "Then you'd come off as fake."
"Why do I feel like crap?" he asked as Evan packed up his equipment. "I'm facing my demons, spilling my guts to the world. That's supposed to make me feel better."
"Oh, I don't know." Evan smiled faintly. "Maybe because you're the sort of person who doesn't like to be pushed into doing things."
Zane supposed that was it. He rubbed his temple, hips propped on the desk where he'd been filmed. Evan had decided the library would make a respectable backdrop. "When will you send this out?"
"As soon as I get home. Best not to let other people control the spin on this."
"We won't be able to control it either."
"No, but at least you'll look like you're standing up to it. I'm guessing the networks will start airing your response early tomorrow." Evan clapped his hand on Zane's shoulder. "You were fine. Calm. Straightforward. You're not Paris Hilton, so I expect you'll be excruciatingly uncomfortable for a while, but then you'll get over it."
"All this doesn't shock you?" Zane couldn't help asking.
Evan shut his black carrying case with a snap. "I'm a lawyer. It takes more than this to make me blush." He started to go and then stopped. "It might not feel like it right now, but you're lucky. To be loved that much by two people, whoever the hell they are, isn't a privilege everyone can claim."
"Send me your bill," Zane reminded as he turned to go again.
"A huge one," Evan laughingly promised.
The rest of the night was a weird cross between going to the mattresses in a mafia movie and meeting the in-laws. Rebecca wasn't engaged to him or Trey, but having her brothers around made it feel that way. Once the twins relaxed, something they couldn't seem to help doing around their sister, the chips fell off their shoulders. They were the same smart funny kids he'd enjoyed interviewing for Bad Boysmdash;decent kids, with their heads and hearts on straight.
Along with Rebecca, they brought an amazing amount of extra life into his and Trey's house.
Zane woke his corporate head of PR early, giving him a rundown of the situation and telling him to respond to inquiries with No Comment. He hadn't bothered going to his private office to make the call. The five of themmdash;him, Trey, Rebecca and her brothersmdash;were hunkered in the library in front of the wall of screens. News of the sex tape, including portions edited and blurred to pass FCC standards, filtered onto the networks for the early morning news cycle. Crumpled and tired from being up all night, no one spoke as the coverage aired. Charlie hid his face in his arm for the explicit bits, a reaction Zane wished he could imitate.
The tape cut off before Trey took Rebecca against the bathroom wall. Either the lens hadn't covered that angle, or the footage didn't suit the point Missy hoped to make. Zane's statement showed up in most cases on the heels of the tape. Seeing his face pop onto the screen was more surreal than usual. He didn't think he looked calm. To his eyes, he appeared incredibly uptight.
"As some of you will have heard," he said stiffly to Evan's camera. "A tape of myself and two people I care about has been posted onto the internet. The tape was made without our knowledge and released without permission. It's regrettable that we live in a world where people's expectations of privacy can be violated so recklessly. Human nature being what it is, some of you will watch the footage. To those who don't, I thank you in advance. While I've chosen to keep my bisexuality private until now, my personal preference isn't something I'm ashamed of. I believe it's given me a unique perspective on the world, one I hope makes me a fairer businessman and person. The freedom to pursue happiness, each in our own way and irrespective of others' approval, is important to everyone. Thank you for your time and for letting me have my say."
In the after commentary, the newscastersmdash;for now at leastmdash;were treating him and his statement respectfully. Most felt compelled to add that it was fortunate TBBC was a private company and wouldn't have to worry about plummeting share prices. Ditto for their brand being edgy to begin with. One waggish female commentator dubbed the incident Showergate. As mockery went, Zane decided he could live with it.
Once he'd watched a fourth station air its version of the story, Zane shut off all the TVs. He felt as tired as if he'd been up for week.
The picking apart would come later: the jokes on the late night talk shows, the conservative groups frothing at the mouth, the debates over whether bisexuality actually existed. Zane had done what he could for now. That had to be enough.
"That was all right," Pete said judiciously, his words slurred by lack of sleep. "The bit about the pursuit of happiness was sort of patriotic."
Rebecca got up to kiss her brother's cheek. She came to Zane's chair next and curled up in his lap like a cat. She was easy to put his arms around.
"I'm glad I'm someone you care about," she murmured.
"Me too," Trey said, sitting on his chair's other arm.
Surrounded by the people he loved, Zane closed his eyes and let his breath gust out.
~
He let himself enjoy the respite for five minutes. Then he got up to tackle Mrs. P. Trey volunteered to speak to the house manager, but Zane preferred keeping busy right then.
"Stick with Rebecca," he said. "Make sure the boys have anything they need."
Standing close, Trey rubbed Zane's wrist with his thumb. His brows went up when Zane had to fight not to pull away. "Stop thinking about your dad and his macho code. Letting Rebecca see who you are was the right choice. Having that exposed doesn't mean you're being punished. It's just Missy being a nasty cunt."
"I know," Zane said. "In my head, I totally know."
To prove it, he kissed Trey softly on the lipsmdash;though Rebecca's brothers still sprawled sleepily nearby.
Trey pulled back from him and smiled. "Don't let Mrs. P resign."
"I won't," Zane promised, knowing as well as Trey did that she'd try.
His patience wasn't completely up to soothing the guilt-stricken woman. She should have mentioned her nephew was the family troublemaker before suggesting him for a job. Zane was sure she'd convinced herself the position would help Owens straighten up, and no doubt her sister had put pressure on her to put in a word for him. People lied to themselves all the time about relatives.
Though Zane didn't ask, she swore she hadn't gossiped to her nephew about her bosses' relationship. She probably hadn't had to. Once Owens was on the staff and around them everyday, he'd have sniffed it out by himself. A single glance exchanged in the car could have given them away. Lately, Zane hadn't kept up his guard as carefully.
"Trey and I didn't have to take your recommendation," he pointed out to Mrs. P and himself. "Ultimately, the buck stops with the bosses."
It took ten more minutes, but he convinced her she wouldn't improve matters by quitting. That was one load off his mind. Mrs. Penworth ran their house really efficiently.
He detoured to the terrace afterwards. He needed a few deep breaths and to remind himself that the sun had come up regardless. The birds were singing, the squirrels still scampering on the lawn. An unexpected peace settled over him. The truth was out, and the world hadn't ended. He had Trey, and Rebecca hadn't left. It was hard to imagine, considering all that remained to face, but maybe they'd come out of this stronger.
He'd set his cell to vibrate, and it buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw the caller's ID was blocked. This was his private number. He hoped to hell the press hadn't got hold of it.
He drew one more clear breath and answered it.
"There you are," purred Missy's most seductive voice. "I'm so glad I caught you."
Zane's heart thumped so hard she should have heard it on her end. "What do you want?" he asked tightly.
"Just to congratulate you. Coming out like that was clever. I'd almost think you didn't mind."
Zane gripped the phone and tried to project calm. "Missy, what I did to you doesn't warrant this reaction."
"Doesn't it? You wasted my time, Zane, when all along you were in love with your CFO. I can have any man I want. I won't be humiliated by some bastard billionaire using me as his beard. Does your new whore know that's all she is to you? Does she realize you and your precious Trey count the minutes until you can be alone? Will she tell her friends she's certain you'll be popping the question any day?"
Was that what Missy had told people?
"Look," he said, "I'm sorry you misunderstood my intentions, thoughmdash;franklymdash;I can't fathom how you could. You knew you weren't the only woman I was seeing."
"Oh, no, no, no," she said, her voice crisp and hard with anger. "You don't get to turn this around on me. I'm the victim, and you are going to paymdash;you and your precious gay boyfriend."
"Missymdash;"
"Turn on Boston AM," she advised, naming a local daytime talk show. "You've gotmdash;ohmdash;about ten minutes until it starts. We'll call this lsquo;Revenge, part deux.'"
She ended the call, leaving him to curse at no one. He glanced up the rear of the mansion to the quiet third-floor windows where he and Trey had shared so many nights. Rebecca joining them had felt naturalmdash;inevitable, even. She fit them both, and they fit her. He saw that now, as clearly as the sun beaming down on him. What he didn't see was why people like Missy needed to twist their happiness into a different shape. Couldn't they ignore it and go be happy themselves?
Because he guessed they couldn't, he went inside to find the others.
They weren't in the library. He found them in the twins' guest room, standing in a loose cluster in front of the wall TV.
"My friend Caroline called," Charlie said as he came in. "She said Boston AM was promo-ing an interview with Mystique."
He'd barely finished speaking when the smartly dressed female host of the show appeared onscreen. Frieda Finch, a forty-something auburn-haired woman, was as birdlike as her name. To the swells of show's theme music, she introduced her guest as the world famous swimsuit model, Mystique. Missy sat in the opposite chair, seeming to like the description. She'd dropped her recent Marilyn Monroe kick and was looking more Kim Novak in a primly buttoned but very curve-hugging light gray suit.
Finch leaned toward her sympathetically. "Mystique, you and billionaire Zane Alexander have been viewed as an item for a few years. What's your take on these recent shocking developments?"
"First of all, Frieda," Missy said, establishing their rapport and her own composure, "other people built more on that relationship than I did. You know how it is when someone's famous. Everyone they blink at must be their boyfriend. I'd say Zane and I dated casually. On the other hand, I don't deny that today I'm feeling a bit misled."
Treys snorted as Missy smoothed her snug skirt primly, not coincidentally drawing attention to her legs.
"So you don't believe Zane Alexander's claim that he's bisexual? Don't you think the tape supports that?"
"Well, I'm no expert on these things, but some might say if he really did like women, he'd have tried harder to hold onto me." Missy attempted to look modest, but wasn't selling that.
Whatever Finch believed, she maintained her poker face. "You must feel like you dodged a bullet. If Zane Alexander had pursued you harder, that could have been you in that tape."
This question was a bit sharper than Missy expected. She drew herself straighter and pursed her mouth. "I assure you, the . . . sort of activities in that recording aren't what I go in for. I have more self-esteem than that. My concern is that other vulnerable women don't get taken in by Zane or Trey Hayworth. Behind that rich bad boy glamour, the truth is unsavory."
"You're saying Trey Hayworth, CFO of TBBC, is also to blame for this?"
Missy turned her million-dollar fake-lashed eyes toward the camera, her expression oozing sincerity.
"Fuck," Zane muttered even before she spoke.
"I'm saying Trey Hayworth has his own shameful secrets. I'm saying neither of TBBC's chief officers can be trusted."
The camera cut back to Finch, who announced they had an exclusive pre-taped interview with a close relative of TBBC's CFO.
"No," Trey said, startled into it. Zane grasped his arm in support, but couldn't stop Trey's crazy aunt from appearing on the screen. Constance Sharp was better dressed than he'd last seen hermdash;her make up professionally applied, her silver hair freshly coiffed. Despite the buff and polish, the crazy glitter in her eyes was impossible to disguise. She was posed in a high-backed chair in what looked like a nice hotel room.
"I'm not surprised by anything Trey Hayworth does," she huffed. "He ignores his family, and spreads horrid lies about my father. My father was ten times the man those limp wrists are, but my brother was just as bad as Trey. He lied too, and hit people with his toys. It's no wonder my nephew turned out the way he did."
"And there you have it," Frieda Finch concluded, her face in the frame again. "Does Trey Hayworth have a reason to be estranged from his family? Is he the victim of ill treatment or the boy who cried wolf? More mystery and scandal surrounding two of Boston's best known businessmen."
"Oh come on," Pete burst out as the station went to commercial. "This is bogus. Anyone can see that old lady is off the rails. Just like anyone can see Mystique set this whole thing up when she couldn't bag her man. She's lashing out like a jilted cheerleader in high school. It's so obvious it's sad."
"It'll only be obvious to people who want to see it that way." Trey spoke quietly, but his face had gone white with stress. Even more than Missy, Finch had put her finger on his personal angst button. Zane moved his hand from Trey's arm to his shoulder, which caused Trey to shift his gaze to him.
"I guess we know where my aunt disappeared to," he said. "Missy was hiding her."
Missy must have tracked Constance down after seeing her break into TBBC's headquarters. He gave her points for paying attention, but God what a mess this was. He supposed it helped that Trey's aunt wasn't reading from the same revenge playbook as the modelmdash;though that didn't spare Trey of course.
Aware of this, Rebecca wrapped her arms around Trey's chest from behind.
"I'm okay," he said. "Missy only wins if I let this upset me."
That he had let it upset him was apparent to everyone.
"Someone needs to school that bitch," Charlie said.
"You leave it alone," Zane advised, though he shared the sentiment. He leveled a stare at Pete too. "Both of you. This is for me and Trey to handle."
"Sure," Charlie said.
"Sure," Pete agreed.
"Oh God," Rebecca moaned, no doubt on account of knowing her siblings well.
Zane wanted to smile but worried it might encourage them.
~
Trey didn't know how long he'd have stood there, stupid and dumbstruck, if Rebecca and Zane hadn't led him to the empty guest room across the hall. The windows there overlooked the front lawn and the long tree-lined drive. Everything outside was peaceful: just another gracious country estate in rural New England.
Ignoring the allure of the air conditioning, he yanked up the window sash. Real air swept in at him, warm and grass-scented. Rebecca and Zane rubbed his back from either side.
"I don't care if people know who I sleep with," he said as steadily as he could. "I just don't want the world to view me as a victim. I want to choose who I share my past with."
He turned to rest his hips on the windowsill. Rebecca and Zane looked worried but not overcome with pity. Maybe they were downplaying their concern, or maybe they gave him credit for not being made of glass. A smile pulled at his lips without warning, prodded by a sense of humor he wouldn't have thought he'd recover this quickly.
"The swimsuit hanger might have done us a favor," he observed.
"Might she?" Zane responded, his mouth curving.
"Piling on the revelations as thick as she did means people won't know what to poke at firstmdash;or who to feel sorry for." Trey took Zane's hand and then Rebecca's, enjoying the easy way their holds twined with his. He made a decision within himself. "I'm not going to worry about us. We're going to be fine."
Rebecca looked down at his hand. Hers was small but strong, her cook's fingers battered but wonderful. When she lifted her gaze, she was smiling.
"I love you," she said. "Can I be you when I grow up?"
He laughed, his chest suddenly warmer. She'd said the words almost as a joke. Her hint of shyness let him know they were anything but.
"I love you too," he said. "I love you both."
Rebecca's eyes twinkled with mischief. "The swimsuit hanger would totally hate you saying that."
"Yes, she would," Trey agreed. "Guess I know how I'm getting my revenge."
~
Realizing Trey was okay worked on the others like a sleeping pill. The trio trooped upstairs to bed together. Rebecca dimly heard Zane making one final callmdash;to his PI friend, she thoughtmdash;and then she passed out.
She woke, hours later, with a tall slumbering man on either side of her. The sun outside the windows seemed late afternoon-ish. Her cell phone was ringing.
Zane was nearest to the sound. He cursed, fumbled around the table where she'd left it, and handed it to her.
"Yes?" she said, her voice mostly sandpaper.
"Well, hey there, chef," said Raoul. "I guess this means you aren't coming to work today."
Heedless of the body parts the men had slung over her, Rebecca bolted up in shock. "Oh my God."
Evidently not angry, Raoul laughed at her.
"Oh my God," she repeated. "I forgot to go to work. And I forgot to call you. Raoul, I am so sorry!"
"It's okay, chica. I've got the restaurant under control."
"But I forgot!" Rebecca never forgot work. Never, ever. Even on the rare occasions when she was sick, she called in periodically.
"I saw the news," Raoul said in a gentler tone. "I know you must have been distracted."
"Shit," Rebecca said for a whole host of reasons. Did Raoul hate her? She'd told him she'd slept with Trey, but that hardly covered the situation. "Is the staff okay?"
"The staff is fine. Some are surprised, but quite a few are impressed. Line cooks are notorious belt notchers, after all. You should prepare yourself for some teasingmdash;you know, when you stop lazing around all day."
"Oh God."
Zane and Trey were looking at her now, but she couldn't look at them.
"I ever tell you about my threesome?" Raoul went on. "I was a hot young fry cook. Abs of steel and a knife so fast I could chop ten onions at the same time. This cute pastry chef took a liking to me. Her special friend was a very bendy yoga instructormdash;"
"I'm stopping you right there," Rebecca warned, recognizing a tall tale when she heard one. "You tell me anymore, I'll repeat it to your wife."
"I tell her this story all the time. You have no idea how sick of it she is."
"Damn it," she said, in spite of her amusement. "I wanted to be there for our first normal night."
"Well, it's not going to be normal here for a bit, not until the wagging tongues settle down. Let me handle things for now. You know you can trust me to do right by your food."
She did know that. "You're the awesomest head chef ever," she admitted.
"Don't you forget it. Fortunately, none of this is bad for business. We were booked solid for two weeks after our VIP shindig. Now I hear it's two months. Someone told me Wilde's is so empty crickets are chirping there."
"Maybe I should get into trouble more often."
"Maybe you should."
Rebecca was smiling when she ended the call.
"You forgot work," Trey said, one slashing brow lifted. "Being here really has changed you."
Rebecca snuggled back between the men. "You want credit for that, eh?"
"He can have half," Zane said. "The other fifty percent is mine."
~
Rebecca drifted off between them, burrowed cutely into Zane's chest. Higher up on the pillow, Trey looked across her mussed blonde head at Zane. The sun shone in Zane's face and he squinted, butmdash;like Treymdash;he wasn't ready to go back to sleep. His right hand rested on Rebecca's hip, his upper leg slung across both of hers so that his bare foot touched Trey's. A pleasant low-grade arousal collected in Trey's groinmdash;another reaction he hadn't expected to feel so soon. He was glad for it, glad for everything in a way. He put his hand above Zane's on Rebecca's waist.
"You okay?" he asked his lover.
"Yes," Zane said. "You?"
"Yes." He stroked his pinkie finger along Zane's index, delighted by the darkening of Zane's baby blues. "You want to tell me what that call to your PI friend was about?"
Zane turned sheepish. "I had Elaine route your cousins' calls to me. I met them at the Imperial the other morning."
Trey's exasperation was softened by fondness. "I figured you'd do something along those lines. And?"
"And as far as I could tell, all they wanted was to get control of their mother. I gather she's been a lifelong embarrassment. Now that we know Missy had her, Mike should be able to locate her and put the family in touch again."
"Leaving her with Missy might be a good revenge. Considering their respective personalities, they can't have enjoyed each other's company."
"I thought of that. The problem is, Missy is sure to hand your aunt off to some flunky."
Trey bent his arm and resettled his cheek on it. "Weathering this salvo has one drawback. Missy may up the ante if we don't give her the reaction she's hoping for."
Zane sighed. "I thought about that too. We'll figure some way to shut her down."
He stretched his left arm across the pillow to play with Trey's loose hair. The simple sweetness of the gesture melted his heart.
"I love you," Trey murmured, the words coming out with almost no fear at all.
"Me too," Zane returned. "I'm glad we're all in this together."
Trey's grin was as much for the effortlessness of Zane's answer as for him avoidingmdash;yet againmdash;his three most dreaded words in the world.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Operation Blue Velvet
ZANE led Rebecca, whose heart was beating like a cornered rabbit, to the back of their huge closet.
"We need to be seen," he said, "as a threesome, as openly and boldly as possible."
He opened a double-door wardrobe with swirling exotic wood. Rebecca expectedmdash;or maybe hopedmdash;to see suits for the men inside. Instead, a rainbow of expensive women's dresses hung on the rack.
