Page 5 of Double Down & Dirty

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Gray’s chauffeur, Byron Glover, pulled up to the main entrance of the building that housed the headquarters of BDR. Before the man could get out of the driver’s seat, his boss opened the rear passenger door and climbed out. Gray preferred to do some things for himself, instead of being catered to, with a few exceptions. If he was in a limo going to a big event, he’d let the chauffeur do the grand revealing of who was in the back of the stretch for the paparazzi and fans. And while he drove himself to and from work, it was easier to let Byron drive him to meetings around the city or to the airport rather than having to deal with finding a parking spot most days.

Over the roof of the car, he nodded at the retired police officer who’d taken the job of driving Gray around instead of driving his wife nuts being home with nothing to do. “Thanks, Byron. The rest of the day is yours—my other two meetings are just up the Riverwalk. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sir. Miss Turner has me scheduled to pick you up at 11:00 for your luncheon in St. Petersburg. I’ll see you then.”

Striding toward the front entrance of the forty-two story building, Gray thanked the doorman who held the glass door open for him. Black Diamond Records occupied floors 15 through 24, with the executive offices being on the 21st. He hadn’t planned on returning to the office until after four this afternoon, but his luncheon with one of their newer artists and the Englishman’s manager had to be rescheduled for another day. The singer had received a phone call about his mother being rushed to the hospital in London for chest pains, and had hightailed it to the airport to fly home. Gray would have Abby send a flower arrangement or something to the hospital. She always seemed to know exactly what was appropriate for any given occasion. Gray had fielded several calls over the past few months with people telling him a lot of thought must have gone into whatever was sent.

Gray was now unexpectedly free until his next meeting which was scheduled at 1:30. Glancing at his watch as he stepped onto the elevator, he decided against calling Remi. His brother had a full day scheduled too, and he’d catch up with him later. With several new or established artists releasing albums soon, a huge fundraiser BDR backed every January for wounded veterans, and a nationwide singing competition they were sponsoring in February, the twins would be busy for the next several weeks. Add onto that list two red carpet events, one in Vegas and the other in New York, and Gray was looking forward to next week’s celebration at The Covenant. At least there, he didn’t have anyone pitching him artists who couldn’t sing, or investments they wanted him to make, or favors they needed. At the club, he could be himself ... Master Grayson. The only requests he got there were from the submissives asking to scene with him and Remi. All they wanted from the brothers was their dominance and some orgasms, nothing more.

After letting several people exit the elevator, he boarded with two men and one woman, all of whom got off on different floors before he reached the 21st floor. He’d check in with Abby and then ask her to have the restaurant on the top floor send down something for his lunch. Liz must have given her a list of Gray and Remi’s food preferences because whenever either woman had ordered lunch for them, there was never anything that they didn’t care for in the takeout bag. While Liz had been a fantastic personal secretary, Abby was something more. Gray looked forward to seeing her every day—she brightened up the office with just a smile even though her nervousness around her bosses was evident. He took pleasure in checking in with her from the road or other cities just to hear her voice. Damn, he had to get over this lovesick puppy routine when it came to her. Abby was, and always would be, off limits.

Stepping off the elevator, he walked through the large reception area of BDR. The walls were covered with poster-sized photos of their most successful clients and their gold records. Who knew that two brothers who couldn’t sing a note on-key or play a single musical instrument would develop the eyes and ears to recognize some of the most talented entertainers on the planet? It had all started back in college when Remi’s roommate was in a rock band popular enough to need a manager. While Painted Toenails had never made it past being a favorite bar band for colleges throughout Florida and Georgia, the Mann brothers had discovered other talent they helped get all the way to national and international radio. They’d produced their first Top-40 album before the age of twenty-five, and a year later the talented Morehead sisters, Keisha, Natasha, and Felisha, who performed as Trinity, won a Grammy for Best New Artist or Group.

The young, female receptionist was on the phone, but gave Gray a brilliant smile as he passed her desk. It was something he’d grown used to in his late teens and early twenties. Women of all ages found the Mann brothers attractive and flirted with them whenever possible. While the twins had both gone through awkward, gangly stages their first two years of high school, all that had changed when they shot up to over six feet tall the summer before their junior year. Working as lifeguards at the local, public pool, they’d developed tans and muscle tone, carving out physiques they’d been jealous over on other teenage boys the year before. Acne disappeared, Remi’s braces came off, and suddenly, they had girls calling the house at all hours, driving their parents nuts.

Striding down the hall, Gray chuckled to himself. Who would have thought back then the two skinny tweens they’d been would’ve ended up being listed in People magazine’s Sexiest Men of the Year edition a few months ago? Certainly not him. He wasn’t egotistical, but he had to admit, his and Remi’s good looks had opened more doors for them than expected, giving them the opportunity to grow their business into a booming success.

The outer door to his and Remi’s offices was locked. Through the glass, he saw Abby wasn’t at her desk and figured she must have gone out to lunch. But, then again, there was a partially-eaten sandwich and a bottle of Diet Coke sitting on her desk. Hmm. Maybe she’s in the ladies’ room or something.

Gray pulled his passkey from his pocket and unlocked and opened the door before letting it close softly behind him again. Both office doors were shut and, unlike the outer one, there were no windows to see into the rooms. Heading for his own office, he skirted Abby’s desk and stopped short when he heard her voice coming faintly from Remi’s office. While it was definitely her, the tone of her voice sounded different, unlike anything he’d heard from her before. It sounded husky and breathless, not the timid, stuttering he often found endearing.

His eyes narrowed as he stepped toward the closed door of his brother’s office.

“Oh, yes. Fuck me! Fuck me harder! Oh, yes! Yes! Please, faster!”

What the goddamn fuck? Gray saw red as fury raced through his body. Remi’s fucking Abby? After we’d agreed she was off limits! The son of a fucking bitch, I’m going to kill him!

Gray reached for the doorknob, intent on breaking up the fuck fest, but he froze. As furious as he was, he couldn’t embarrass Abby, and the last thing he’d do was make her the subject of nasty gossip throughout BDR. And the way he felt right now, throwing Remi out the window from the 21st floor was a very good possibility. It would also be impossible to hope no one would notice.

“Oh, God, yes! I love that! More, please! Your cock is beautiful. It feels amazing.”

His fists and jaw clenched as he turned on his heel and stormed out of the office, shutting the door behind him before heading toward the elevators. He didn’t want to hear Abby as the orgasm hit her when he couldn’t watch her come apart in ecstasy. As for Remi, Gray would deal with him when the bastard got home later.

* * *

Climbingfrom his Porsche Cayenne Turbo S, Remi grabbed his briefcase and strode toward the front door. It’d been a long day and he was looking forward to a soak in the hot tub and then some sleep. Tomorrow, he and Gray were taking their private jet to Las Vegas for the weekend for the United Country Music Awards being held at Mandalay Bay Resort and Casino. Several of their country music artists were up for big awards and it appeared it would be a great night for BDR.

He’d packed last night, so he was set to head to the private airport they used tomorrow afternoon. Abby had made their morning agendas light, but there was one luncheon meeting they had scheduled for 11:30 with local socialite Katherine Vaughn-Hopkins. The woman was on countless committees for one charity or another, and her new project was a free music school for underprivileged children. Of course, her first phone call to solicit funds and get planning input had been to her best friend’s twin sons who’d never been able to turn the older woman down.

Their “aunt” Katherine and mother had become good friends in their twenties when Melinda Mann had been the daytime nurse for the other woman’s ailing mother. Katherine’s family had come from old money, and instead of putting their matriarch in a nursing facility, they’d brought the medical care to her in the home she loved. While the elderly woman’s body had been failing, her mind had still been sharp as a tack and Melinda had gotten to know her very well as she cared for her for over a year, with Katherine visiting every day. Remi’s mom said she cried just as hard as Mrs. Vaughn’s children when she’d finally passed in her sleep one night. The two younger women remained steadfast friends over the years, despite the difference in their social statuses. In fact, Aunt Katherine had been the one who’d backed the twins financially when they were first getting BDR off the ground. It was why they could never say no to any favor she called them about.

Opening the door, Remi walked in and never had a chance to evade the fist that came flying, hitting him square in the face. His lower jaw felt like it had exploded into a million pieces as he stumbled back out the door and onto his ass. As he quickly got to his feet again, the only other thing besides the pain that registered in his mind was his assailant was Grayson, and he was beyond pissed about something. “What the fuck, Gray?”

“You son of a fucking bitch!”

This time, Remi saw the punch coming and was able to duck then tackle his brother back into the house, landing hard on the granite tile in the foyer. They both barely missed cracking their heads on a heavy, round, wooden table with a huge silk flower arrangement on it, courtesy of an interior decorator. It’d been a long time since the two had come to blows over something, but it did happen once in a while—however, usually Remi knew in advance why they were punching the shit out of each other.

Even though Gray was an inch taller and fifteen pounds heavier than him, they were still evenly matched. Fists, elbows, and knees made contact as they rolled across the floor. Grunts and curses filled the air. Remi managed to get the upper hand, but not for long as Gray used his leg to throw his brother off him.

“You couldn’t leave her alone, could you?” Gray spat. “You had to go and fuck her!”

Breathing heavily, they both rolled to their feet and stood, and Remi ducked another punch. “What the fuck are you talking about? I haven’t fucked anyone since Aurora! And you were fucking with me!”

“Bullshit! You were fucking Abby in your office this afternoon!”

Remi dodged another fist, grabbed the banister to the stairs, and swung himself up a few steps, out of this brother’s reach. “Gray!” His twin froze at the deep, commanding tone Remi used while sceneing with a sub. Their angry gazes met, and he lowered the volume of his voice. His open hands were up and out to the sides in a “calm the fuck down” gesture. “I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about. I left the office at 10:00 and never went back. Didn’t you check my schedule? I was in Orlando all day and just got back. I didn’t even stop at the office on my way here. Now, what the hell are you talking about? What makes you think I was fucking Abby?”

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