Page 12 of Double Down & Dirty

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Worried, Remi paced the living room. If she turned them down, he’d be devastated. Gray would be, too. Abby was her ... the woman they’d been searching for all their lives. He’d known it deep down in his soul the moment he’d kissed her. Any doubts he may have had up to that point had faded away. Sweet Abby Turner was theirs. Now they just had to convince her of that fact.

She was nervous, scared, unsure, and experiencing every other negative feeling that could have her running from them. At least she hadn’t done just that after reading the BDSM website for about forty-five minutes. She’d stood, and when Gray had asked if she had any questions for them, her response had been, “Do you mind if I do some thinking for a little bit? While I get ready for dinner?” Unfortunately, she hadn’t looked directly at them, and her cheeks had been a deep pink, so they had no idea what she’d been thinking.

Now, she was still upstairs in the suite’s master bedroom—the one with the super king-sized bed. Gray and he had taken the second bedroom with two queen-sized beds, and he hoped like hell before Monday, they’d all be in the king with Abby sleeping between them.

“Stop pacing.”

Remi rolled his eyes at his brother, but continued moving back and forth. “I pace when I’ve got something on my mind—you know this. What if this blows up in our faces? You were right—we could lose her as both our woman and our secretary.”

Taking a seat on the couch, Gray adjusted the open collar of his pale, green dress shirt, which he’d paired with black chinos. “We just have to take it slowly. Everything will be fine.”

Remi wished he was as confident about this as his twin. “Are we going to tell her about the video?”

“At some point, I think we should—honesty being the best policy and all that. But definitely not until she’s signed a contract.”

“A contract that’s not worth a hill of beans if she decides to walk.”

Gray sighed. “Chill, Remi. One thing at a time, all right? Let’s get through tonight’s question and answer period, and get her more comfortable being close to us.”

The sound of the master bedroom door shutting had them both looking up to see Abby coming down the stairs. And holy fucking hell, she was a walking hard-on. Her golden brown hair had been blown out and framed her face in soft waves. Understated makeup made her eyes and lips pop. As she followed the circular staircase down, they were able to see more and more of her. She was wearing a vintage-style dress, circa the 1950s, and it was one of the sexiest things Remi had ever seen. The black, three-quarter-length-sleeved dress had a sweetheart neckline with a narrow piece of black and white, floral trim over her breasts. The same pattern appeared under a slit in the pleated skirt, which fell just below her knees. But it was the cut of the dress that blew him away. It narrowed at her waist and accentuated her womanly curves, giving her a rockin’, hour-glass figure. Yup, definitely a walking hard-on. He tried to subtly adjust himself in the tan dress pants he wore with a button-down, black shirt.

As she reached the first floor, Remi’s eyes dropped to her feet. Fuck me! She’d finished the dress off with sheer, black stockings and red, chunky-heeled shoes which also had a retro style to them. In one hand, she held a red, clutch purse. She paused, eyeing them with uncertainty.

He could see her nervousness was back and wanted to expel it as quickly as possible. “Little one, you look gorgeous. Absolutely stunning, and I, for one, can’t wait to show you off to the world. But that also means I’ll have to push aside my jealousy of any other man looking at you. With the exception of Gray, of course.” The pink he loved to see tinged her cheeks. “Turn all the way around so we can get the whole effect.”

She took a half step forward and slowly spun on the ball of her foot. Remi’s mouth watered when he saw the sexy seams down the back of the stockings, and planned on finding out later if they were thigh-highs like he suspected. Damn, a woman in thigh-highs was close to number one on his list of the sexiest things in the world.

Gray hadn’t said a word yet, and Remi glanced at him. There was unadulterated lust in his brother’s eyes as he stood and walked over to Abby. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “I can’t remember the last time I was stunned into silence. Sweetheart, you are exquisite.”

Her blush deepened. “Th-thank you.”

Sweeping his hand toward the open elevator door waiting for them, Remi said, “Shall we? Because if we don’t leave now, I’m going to forget I’m a gentleman and ravage our lovely date.”

“I agree,” Gray responded. Not letting go of her hand, he led her toward the elevator. Remi followed, his gaze pinned to those sensual seams he couldn’t get enough of. The hem of Abby’s dress swished from side to side with every step. After all three of them boarded, Gray flipped the hold switch and the doors slid shut.

The brothers stood on either side of Abby. Gray still held her hand, and Remi put his palm at her lower back, using his thumb to caress her. She was a little stiff, still not used to their closeness. As the elevator zoomed to the private lobby, he tried to put her at ease. “Have you ever been to a casino, Abby?”

She nodded. “Yes. My dads like to go every once in a while to the Seminole Hard Rock Casino for a show and some blackjack. I’ve gone a few times with them, although I’m not a big gambler. I prefer the penny slot machines.”

“Have you ever tried craps? I have a feeling you’ll be my lucky charm at the table. Maybe we’ll test my theory later.”

The doors opened, and they headed for the exit where their chauffeured vehicle waited for them. The twins didn’t usually use a limo when they were in Vegas. A cab or luxury town car would do, unless they were going to an event like the award show on Sunday. However, they wanted to give Abby the five-star treatment—not to impress her, but because she deserved it. They’d give her the moon if they could.

A uniformed attendant saw them approaching and held the door open for them. Once they were through, a smartly-dressed chauffeur opened the rear door to the black, stretch limo, with a slight bow of his head. “Good evening, sirs, miss. My name is Edward. I understand you’re dining at Joel Robuchon’s, followed by a trip to Fremont Street, then back to the MGM Grand for a 9:00 show. Have there been any changes to that?”

“No,” Remi answered as Gray ducked into the limo first then held his hand out to assist Abby in next to him. “That covers it. After the show, we’ll play it by ear.”

“Excellent. I’m at your service as long as you need me tonight.”

The perks of being a mover and shaker in the entertainment industry were damn good. Climbing in after Abby, Remi settled in as Edward closed the door. He hit a button on a nearby panel that closed the partition between them and the driver. Moments later, the limo pulled away from the curb and out into the evening traffic. Remi’s eyes went to Abby’s now exposed knees as her dress had ridden up a little. He couldn’t resist hooking his finger under the hem and sliding it up a little further.

Abby seemed to panic and slapped her hand down on her thigh, stopping the dress’s upward momentum. Her eyes went wide. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

His gaze softened. “Yes, you did. And I’m the one who should apologize, little one. My curiosity got the best of me. I’m dying to know if you’re wearing thigh-highs.”

“Why w-would you want to know that?”

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