Page 7 of Double Down & Dirty

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“Abby, can you come in here, please?”

“Yes, sir.” Abigail grabbed the pad and pen she used to jot down notes so she wouldn’t forget anything and hurried into Remi’s office. Instead of sitting behind his desk, the man was perched on his leather couch ... in the exact same spot she’d been in the day before, masturbating. Trying to push the memory from her mind, her cheeks turned pink as she stood before him. “What do you need, sir?”

Remi sat back and spread his arms over the back of the couch. One leg came up and he rested the ankle on the opposite knee. God, he was gorgeous. No matter what he wore, he could grace the cover of a magazine and have women drooling over him. Today, he was wearing brown loafers, khaki pants, and a tucked in, long-sleeved, white Henley with the top two buttons undone. A smattering of fine chest hair teased her through the V. He’d gotten a haircut sometime between when she’d seen him yesterday and this morning. And something else about him was different. There was a bruise on his left jawline, barely noticeable under the coarse stubble. He hadn’t shaved this morning—maybe to hide the discoloration? What happened? “There’s been some changes in our schedules over the next few days you need to be aware of.”

The door behind her closing caught her attention, and glancing over her shoulder, she found Gray had entered the room. He strode over and sat in a wingback chair catty-corner to the couch. “Good morning, Abby.” His deep, sexy voice rumbled through her, and she felt it all the way to her toes.

“G-Good morning, s-sir.” Damn, why couldn’t she stop stuttering around these two men? Gray was dressed just as casually as his brother, but his black jeans were topped off with a sky blue polo with the BDR logo on it. He’d also gotten a haircut, but that wasn’t so unusual since the two had the music awards to go to this weekend in Vegas. She also didn’t miss his swollen and split lower lip. Had they been in an accident? No—as their personal secretary, she’d have been fending off calls from the paparazzi if that had happened. A fight? Again, the press would have been all over that if there’d been a hint the Mann brothers had been in a bar brawl somewhere—not that it had ever happened before, to her knowledge. So, what the hell had happened?

As he got comfortable in the chair, Gray raised a disapproving eyebrow at her. “Abby, I’ve asked you repeatedly to call me by my first name here at the office, when clients aren’t around, and so has Remi. What do we need to do to remind you of that, hmm? A spanking, perhaps?” His right hand subtly twitched where it lay on the arm of the chair, as if that was exactly what he wanted to do.

Her eyes grew the size of saucers and her mouth fell open. Holy shit! Was he fucking kidding? No ... nope ... he definitely was not kidding. Not with that hard, commanding look on his face. Had she missed a memo that the office was going to be in an alternate universe today—where her fantasies could come true? That was the only explanation she could think of for his questions. “Um ... n-no, s-sir, I mean, Gray. I-I’m sorry, it’s just ... um ... a hard habit t-to break, sir—Gray!”

Silence permeated the room, broken only by the ticking of the clock in the bookcase, and the walls seemed to close in as the two men stared at her. Abigail couldn’t help squirming where she stood, looking back and forth between them in confusion and arousal. Finally, her gaze settled on Remi. “Um ... sir ... I mean, Remi, you s-said something about ...” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “... about a few schedule changes?”

A lazy grin spread across his handsome face, bringing out his adorable dimples. Abigail suddenly felt like she was in a lion’s den, and she was the beast’s next meal. Remi gently patted the couch next to him. “Please sit, and we’ll go over everything.”

Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest as she took one then two tentative steps toward the couch. Pivoting, she slowly lowered herself to the soft leather, her back ramrod straight, doing her best to not appear obvious in her attempt to sit as far away from Remi as possible. She put a shaking pen tip to the top page of her pad. “O-okay. I’m ready.”

“Are you, now?”

Her gaze shot to Gray. Those three innocent words had sounded as if they’d been saturated in sex and sin. She felt a flush of wetness coat her panties and clenched her thighs together. “Y-yes, s—Gray.”

A near duplicate of his brother’s smile appeared. “Very good, Abby. You’re finally learning. I should threaten to spank you more often.” Without pause, and ignoring the stunned look on her face, he continued in his normal, business voice. “As Remi stated, plans have changed. I spoke to Katherine Hopkins and told her you’d be contacting her next week to reschedule today’s luncheon.” Abigail began writing, using the shorthand she’d learned long ago. “The next thing you need to do is arrange for someone to fill in for you for the rest of today and all of Monday. As soon as we’re done with this little meeting, you’ll have two hours to go home and pack, then Byron will pick you up to take you to the airport. You’ll be going to Vegas with us.”

The pen flew out of Abigail’s hand into Remi’s lap. He glanced down, and the amusement in his eyes was evident as he picked up the pen and handed it back to her. “Problem, little one?”

“Uh ... Vegas? W-Why am I going to Vegas?” It wasn’t that she’d never travelled with them for business before—Liz had too—just never for an entire weekend for an awards ceremony.

“Because we have a seat between us that needs to be filled at the awards, and we’d like you to be the one filling it.” After finding out Aurora had been cheating on them, it was no wonder they didn’t want her near them at the United Country Music Awards. But that didn’t explain why they wanted Abigail to fill the spot. There were plenty of women who’d love to be sandwiched between the two gorgeous men and hob-knobbing it with celebrities, to boot. “Do you have a gown to wear?”

She knew Gray and Remi would be wearing their custom-fit, designer tuxedos to the event, and to her dismay, there was nothing in her closet that came close to being red-carpet worthy. Her clothes were more like drab, gray-carpet worthy. “Um ... no, I don’t. Why don’t you take someone else? I’m s-sure there are plenty of woman who’d love to attend it with you.” She inwardly cursed the wave of jealousy that came over her at the thought of them taking another woman to the ceremony.

Remi reached over and took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. Electric warmth shot through her, pushing aside the green-eyed monster. His voice dropped until it was as smooth as the fine whiskey she knew he favored. “Because we don’t want to take anyone else. Don’t worry about something to wear. I’m sure you’ll be able to find something in one of the many shops in Vegas. Our treat.”

Mesmerized by the small circular motions his thumb was making on her skin, she almost missed what he’d said. “I-I can’t ask you to buy me a dress to wear. Seriously, you should ask someone else to go with you.”

Gray stood and approached her. Before she realized his intent, he bent down and put one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, then lifted. She squeaked at suddenly being airborne and dropped her pad and pen to grab his shoulders, but he ignored her response as he took her place on the couch and settled her on his lap. Abigail froze in his arms. He cupped her chin and turned her head until she was looking into his eyes. “Little one, I don’t think you understand. You will be going to Vegas with us, and you will let us buy you a dress worthy of your beauty, and you will be attending the award ceremony on our arms. End of story.”

* * *

After the privatejet leveled off at cruising altitude, Remi stood and walked back to the small kitchen. Usually they had a flight attendant onboard, but this time the twins wanted privacy, so with a quick phone call this morning, they’d arranged for lunch to be left for them. No one else was on the plane except for the pilot and co-pilot.

Gray studied her, sitting in one of the plush, luxury chairs, with the seatbelt still across her lap. Her nervousness was apparent, but at least she’d followed his order that she change into comfortable, casual clothes for the flight. No longer in one of her prim and proper business suits, she now wore a black, pleated, wool skirt, which came to her knees, over black leggings, a light-weight, short-sleeved, pink sweater that hugged her enticing curves, and cute ankle boots. Her golden brown hair was down from the severe bun she normally wore to work, and he decided then and there he was banning her from wearing it up in the office. He wanted to be able to wrap the long strands around his arm any time he wanted to. Hopefully, by the time they got home from Vegas on Monday afternoon, they’d have a contract in place, giving him and Remi the right to touch her any way they wanted, when they wanted. And she’d no longer be allowed to wear leggings under her skirts, unless it was for warmth. Hell, she wouldn’t be allowed to wear anything under her skirts. He liked quick and easy access. How they’d both written off her natural submissiveness as innocence was beyond him, but now as he eyed her, he saw the sex kitten she hid just under the surface, where she probably hoped no one would notice.

Standing, he closed the distance between them and reached down to unclick her seatbelt. When he noticed she was wide-eyed and holding her breath at his near and looming proximity, he caressed her soft cheek with the back of his fingers. “Relax, little one. You’re safe with us.”

She gulped. “I-I know that, s—Gray.”

A chuckle escaped him along with a smile. She really was trying to break her habit and that pleased him more than he’d expected. At least when they started to play with her, it would be second nature for her to call them Sir.

Her jaw dropped when he went to his knees in front of her and picked up her right foot, removing her boot. He winked at her as he dug his thumbs into her arch. “It’s a long flight, so you might as well be comfortable. Lean back and close your eyes. Let us take care of you.” When she hesitated, he lowered his voice to his commanding Dom tone. “That wasn’t a request, Abby. Close your eyes and relax.”

“Um ... okay.”

While her eyelids fell, the rest of her remained rigid. He’d keep massaging her feet until she finally relaxed if it took him the entire flight. Remi returned from the back with a tray of assorted food which he placed on a table next to the couch. He grinned at the sight of Gray on his knees, but didn’t say a word as he walked to the back again and brought out an open bottle of Riesling and three wine glasses. When they clinked in his hand, Abigail’s eyes flew open. Letting go of her foot, Gray stood and retrieved the small carry-on duffel he’d brought with him. It was one of his toy bags. Opening the zipper, he quickly located the item he wanted and closed the bag again. He didn’t want Abigail to see what else was in there until she was ready.

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