The Billionaire Bad Boys Club (22 page)

“There’s someone else,” she said.

This was one straw too many for Zane. “Saying there’s someone else suggests we have the sort of relationship where I could cheat on you.”

He said this gently, not betraying his temper. Maybe he should have lost it. Missy gasped as if he’d struck her.

“I’m not giving up,” she said, graceful hand to her graceful throat. “I believe we have something even if you don’t.”

“You’re kidding yourself, honey. You and I were never more than a bit of fun.”

He said this gently too, but it sank in deeper. Missy tossed her head and glared out the window. He hoped he’d gotten his point across. Missy did have a habit of believing what suited her.

They touched down around six thirty that evening. Zane handed Missy off to Owens to drive in the limo to the hotel where she was staying. Not as experienced as some TBBC employees, Owens jaw dropped at the sight of his glamorous passenger. Zane concluded his presence wouldn’t be missed. He took a cab instead, thereby avoiding last-ditch debates about what he and Missy had. The taxi dropped him at the home of a friend, a lawyer he’d met at Harvard. Fortunately, Evan was free to see him. Unfortunately, he didn’t think they had grounds for a restraining order against Trey’s aunt, or that such an action would necessarily stay out of the media.

“You and Trey are public figures,” Evan warned. “When you go to court, people wonder why.”

Zane had a bit more sympathy for Missy as he left. He wanted to deny what he’d been told in plain English. To top off that disappointment, between calling another cab and going home to change, he was late to Trey and Rebecca’s big event. When he pulled up on Charles Street in his old Mercedes, groups of guests were coming out. He threw the convertible’s keys to a valet, but doubted the minutes he saved would help. From what he saw, the Lounge’s maiden voyage was over.

He went in anyway. A last few tables in the back were in the process of getting up. Trey stood among them, seeming at ease with what was being said. The guests were in a good mood, so Zane guessed the evening hadn’t been a disaster. Trey laughed, the sound carrying. He looked good in his dark gray suit with the white shirt collar unbuttoned. His hair was tied back so you couldn’t tell it was shoulder length. His sexy stubble showed off the planes of his cheek and jaw.

All grown up
, Zane thought, remembering him in more casual getups. Affection expanded in him so fiercely the sensation was uncomfortable. He knew he was walking a slippery slope with Rebecca but couldn’t seem to drag his feet off it. She felt like the antidote to every forgettable woman he’d slept with, like proof he could connect to one with a deeper part of him than his cock. Wasn’t there a way to hold onto Trey and have a shot with her? And how would he know if he never tried?

He didn’t call out to Trey, whose back was to him. Doing nothing to draw attention to himself, he slipped down the hall to the kitchen.

“Where’s Rebecca?” he inquired of a busboy.

Because he’d asked like he had a right to know, the young man pointed to a door marked “Staff Only.”

Inside was a combined break room and overflow storage. Metal shelves stacked with dry goods lined the walls. Zane spied a small coffee station, a large round table, and the door to the staff toilet. In the middle of the floor, on the tweedy brown carpet, he found Rebecca.

She lay on her back with her knees bent up. Her left forearm shielded her eyes. Her right was flung out flat, as if the ground beneath her were unsteady. She wore her precious chef’s whites, the front now dirty from her labors. Zane’s restless emotions settled even as his heart beat harder. God, he was glad to see her.

“Is there a reason you’re lying on the floor?” he asked.

Rebecca twitched but didn’t rise. “My back is trying to seize up. It’s a stress thing. I took a couple ibuprofens. It’ll stop in a minute.”

Weirdly amused, Zane crossed the room to drop down next to her. Rebecca shifted her forearm to look at him. The look in her narrowed eyes was not friendly. “Why aren’t you with your girlfriend?”

“My girlfriend?”

“The one you took clubbing in Paris. The one you thought it was perfectly okay to bring to my opening. The
swimsuit model
.”

The last description he understood. His mind took a moment to sort out the rest. “Mystique was here? I didn’t bring her. I just arrived myself. Anyway, we weren’t in Paris. It was Montreal.”

“Whatever.” Rebecca hid her eyes again. “At least you didn’t tell her you slept with me.”

This seemed as much a complaint as a statement of gratitude. The smile Zane was fighting grew stronger. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m stupid,” she retorted, her sumptuous lips pressed thin. “I know I have no right to be angry.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Zane said, to which she responded with a snort. “She isn’t. She’s a woman I’ve dated on and off for a couple years. This weekend decided me to switch her to ‘off’ for good.”

“If she showed up here, you need to convey your decision more clearly.”

Sensing a grudging reduction in her annoyance, Zane coaxed Rebecca’s arm away from her face. Her hand fit nicely between his. Turning her head without lifting it, she looked at him with her big gray eyes. The vulnerability he saw there touched him. Funnily enough, so did her prickliness.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” he said softly, “even though we only slept together once. Deliberately shoving her in your face would be childish—especially on your big night.”

“It wouldn’t be my business if you did.”

He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “You could make it your business in two seconds.”

“I told you—”

“I know what you told me.” He slid his arm beneath her back, helping her to sit up without straining her muscles. “How did tonight go?”

“Oh,” she said, “we had a couple bumps. The guy who replaced me at my old job showed up with an important food critic. Half a dozen lobster plates went out raw and—evidently—my big tough expediter falls apart over fights with his roommate.”

Zane eased her toward him until her brow rested on his shoulder. With extra gentle fingers, he massaged the back of her neck. Her skin was warm, the short hair at her nape like silk. “What went right?”

“Almost everything else,” she admitted. “My crew pulled it together after they bobbled. I don’t think The Lounge will get panned.”

Zane was willing to bet it would get rave reviews. Smiling, he gave in to temptation and kissed her hair.

“Zane . . .”

“Shh.” He moved his lips to her temple. “I’ve been thinking about doing this for days.”

She pushed back, head lifting, lush mouth opened to protest. Zane kissed it softly and silenced her.

He could have kissed her all night. She melted into him like a dream, pleasured noises breaking in her throat despite her misgivings. He came erect in surges, letting out a groan when she rubbed his chest. Craving a lower hold, he dragged her hand downward to his bulge. She wasn’t shy about exploring, her fingers strong from the work she did. Once he knew they’d keep at it, he slid his hand up to cup her breast. God, he loved squeezing it. Its tip was a hard tight button beneath his palm.

“Rebecca,” he pleaded, “say you’ll give this a chance.”

She sucked in a breath but didn’t get a chance to answer.

“Damn it!” Trey cursed from the door.

~

Rebecca pulled away from Zane so fast her back went into cramp mode. “Shit,” she hissed, trying to ease the spasm by thrusting her arm back there.

Poised in the doorway with his hands braced on either side, Trey looked both angry and hurt. Somewhat to her surprise, Zane was the person he directed his fury to.

“I held back,” he said. “All these years I wanted to pursue her, but I held back for you!”

“What are you talking about?” Zane asked, which could have been her line. “You barely know Rebecca.”

“I held back ten years ago!” he spat out.

“What?”

“The waitress at Wilde’s. The night you asked me to be your business partner: your partner for real, I thought!”

Obviously, Rebecca was missing a couple checkers from this game. “I waited on you at Wilde’s?” she asked, choosing the safer of her two confusions.

“Yes.” The sparks Trey’s eyes were shooting shifted to her instead. “You warned us not to order lobster because the purveyor delivered frozen. You looked at me like you saw my soul. You knew I wanted to ask you out. I didn’t because of
him
.”

Memory stirred: Two Harvard boys at her table, their clothes and their confidence setting them apart. She recalled the piercing green-gold of Trey’s eyes, the vibe between him and his friend that she couldn’t figure out. She was no expert on souls, but the floor had rocked beneath her at Trey’s stare. She’d been disappointed when he simply left later. She’d have broken her no-dating rule for him. She’d have broken a lot of things.

I dreamed this memory
, she thought,
that night on the yacht with Zane
.

“You left me a two hundred dollar tip,” she blurted.

“No,” Zane said. Apparently, this triggered his recall. “That was her? God.” He shoved his hands through his hair, gaping at her and then at Trey. “You could have asked her out. You didn’t need my permission.”

“Like hell,” Trey bit out. “You didn’t want me sleeping with anyone I might fall for. It’s why you hate me flirting with other men. You think they’re more of a danger. You think I’m gayer than you.”

Zane’s glance shot to the open door. He didn’t want anybody to overhear, which he’d hardly mind if what Trey said were false.

“Oh, boy,” Rebecca said, the pieces falling together. “You two are a couple?”

“We’re
not
gay,” Zane clarified in a lower voice. “We’re bisexual. But, yes, we’re a couple.”

He didn’t seem to like admitting it. Rebecca rubbed her back, which was still knotted up.

“We both like women,” Trey said, stepping farther into the room. “We don’t want to give them up, so we came to an arrangement.”

“And now you both want me.”

“Apparently.” Trey’s anger seemed to have run its course. He looked from her to Zane. If gazes could see into souls, theirs were doing it then. Rebecca sensed Trey asking his lover a silent question.

“No,” Zane said categorically.

“What if she were willing?”

“I want her,” Zane objected.

“You want me too,” Trey said. “I know we’ve never done it before, but you can’t tell me it’s never crossed your mind.”

“Guys,” Rebecca interrupted, suspecting they were trying to steer her fate without her input.

“Wait.” Trey lifted a hand to silence her. “I’ll ask you too. I need to settle this with him first.”

When he and Rebecca turned their attention back to Zane, his face was completely red. “Why would she agree to that?”

Trey’s quirky mouth slanted with amusement. “Some women like the idea of two men making love to them.”

“But we’re not just— We’d—”

“Yes,” Trey agreed in answer to Zane’s stammers. “She’d see us touching each other. No way could the pair of us be naked and not betray our attraction.”

Despite the pain in her back, Rebecca’s breath caught with arousal.

Zane’s flush-brightened face jerked to her. “You wouldn’t mind that?”

“Uh,” she said, her own cheeks hot. Her pussy was wet enough for her clit to swim. The way the little rod was throbbing it could have been trying to. She cleared her tightened throat. “As long as you guys were comfortable, I expect I’d like it.”

Zane rubbed his face up and down. “Honestly?”

“She just said she would,” Trey reminded with a soft laugh.

“I didn’t say I’d sleep with both of you,” Rebecca broke in hastily. “I said the idea didn’t offend me. You’re still my boss, Trey. And there’s still the matter of me not wanting to cause a rift between you and Zane. No offense, but from the looks of things, you can’t promise I won’t do that. Trey, you were ready to take Zane’s head off when you walked in on us kissing.”

The two men exchanged another look.

“I want to try,” Zane said.

“Me too,” Trey agreed, like it was settled. “In spite of being mad, watching you kiss her was kind of hot.”

“Hey,” Rebecca said, a mix of panic and elation spiking inside of her. “I get a say in this.”

“She could use a good tumble,” Trey pointed out to Zane.

“And how,” Zane responded. “As tense as she always is, she could probably use a lot of them.”

“I need to
think
about this,” she protested.

Zane cocked his head at her. “I’m not sure letting you think is a good idea.”

~

Though Trey was the one to suggest he and Zane both pursue Rebecca, nervousness flooded him. This was a giant risk. If things went south, he could lose everything.

Zane’s attention was directed toward more practical issues. “Help me get this off her,” he said.

This
was Rebecca’s white chef’s coat.

“What’s wrong with her?” Trey asked, kneeling down on her other side.

“Back spasm. I think it must have hit her once the pressure of the night eased off. Delayed reaction or whatever.” He swatted Rebecca’s hands. She was trying to work the buttons instead of him. That this hurt her was obvious from her winces.

“Shouldn’t we call a doctor?”

“I’m fine,” Rebecca snapped. “I’ve had this happen before. It’ll go away.”

“If you stop fighting me, it will.” Zane looked across her at Trey. “Hold her hands. She’s being an idiot.”

Trey took Rebecca’s hands. She struggled in annoyance, but his hold on her wrists was firm. Her little tugs sent sensation pinging to his groin. To judge by the twitching between his legs, he was getting an erection. This might not be the best issue to raise right then.

“Zane’s not trying to hurt you,” he said.

Rebecca frowned, but stopped pulling away. “I haven’t said ‘yes’ to your proposal.”

“I know,” he acknowledged.

“Then why are you manhandling me like I did?”

“Jesus,” Zane muttered. “
That
isn’t manhandling.”

Rebecca looked startled by his sureness. Her distraction allowed Zane to get her sleeves fully off. She wore her pretty silk blouse beneath, the one Trey had been pleasantly surprised to see her in. Zane seemed surprised for his own reasons.