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 bra—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 pu**y 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 ‘no’ mean ‘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.”