by Ella Frank
“Merci beaucoup.”
“Show-off,” Julien said, but as a reward he sucked the head of Robbie’s cock between his lips, making the man above him moan. Robbie’s hands then slid around to the back of his head, and as Julien lowered his mouth further down his length to the back of his throat, Robbie cursed.
Julien dragged his mouth back up to the tip, and when he got there, he tongued the slit before he did it again, and this time really began to suck on Robbie.
Julien could hear Robbie’s breathing escalating with every thrust and pump of his hips, and as he fucked into Julien’s mouth over and over, Julien shut his eyes and reveled in the feel and taste that was uniquely Robbie.
“I’m close, Jules. So, so close,” Robbie said as his hips pistoned faster and his dick slid inside along Julien’s tongue. “Jesus, you’re good at this. It’s those lips. I always knew those lips would be… Shit.”
Julien looked up at Robbie, and with their eyes locked, Robbie gave a final shove and got in as deep and far as he could go, and then he slammed his eyes shut as his orgasm finally took hold of him. With a loud cry, Robbie came, and Julien swallowed him down, the flavor exploding on his tongue. And as he memorized the salty essence that was all Robbie, Julien sat back on his heels and swiped his thumb over his lower lip. “Tu as un goût divin, princesse. Je pourrais te dévorer toute la journée.”
“Shit,” Robbie said, as Julien sucked his thumb clean and then got to his feet. “My brain isn’t really working right now. What did you just say?”
Julien kissed Robbie’s lips, and when the deviant dipped his tongue inside to taste himself, Julien groaned. “That you taste like heaven, and I could eat you all day.”
Robbie winked, his brain now obviously well and truly functioning once again. “I do, don’t I?”
Julien shut his eyes and gritted his teeth as he tried to rein in the urge he had to fuck Robbie where he stood. Flirty little minx.
“Wow,” Robbie said, and started to chuckle. “You look a little on edge there, Jules. I need to channel my Sandy more often. She’s clearly irresistible.”
Julien opened his eyes and pinned them on the rascal who was taking much delight in his obvious frustration, as he tried to work out what Robbie was talking about.
“Tell me about it…stud,” Robbie said in the same tone he’d demanded his kiss in earlier, and as soon as the Grease reference clicked, Julien started to laugh.
He shook his head and stepped back from Robbie pointing his finger at him. “See? You are a troublemaker.”
“I am?” Robbie’s eyes widened, and then he reached down and pulled his skimpy thong back into place. “You’re the one who just gave me head in the hallway of your restaurant.”
Julien ran his eyes down Robbie where he still stood propped up against the wall with his jeans around his ankles. “Oui, that’s true. But it’s your fault for looking so edible.”
Robbie groaned and squeezed himself. “That’s not helping me want to behave myself, just so you know.”
“You’re one to talk. Put your jeans back on. I’m already hard, and you’re making things harder by the second.”
Robbie bent down and pulled his jeans back into place as Julien walked backward and pushed open one of the stainless-steel doors. When Robbie was once again fully dressed, Julien beckoned for him. “Viens. Come.”
Robbie shoved off the wall and walked over to where Julien now stood. “I just did. But for the sake of my learning here today, I think you should come.”
Julien tapped a finger against Robbie’s chest. “You are a very dedicated student. I like that.”
“Good. So what else do you plan to teach me today?”
“How to cook, so you can make us all dinner tonight,” Julien said, and then pointed inside, finding himself delighted and fully under Robbie’s captivating spell. “Get your tempting little ass in there. You can torture me later, if you manage not to poison the three of us first.”
“Huh, well, I suppose I can agree to that,” Robbie said, before he turned to look at the pristine kitchen. Then he put a hand over his heart and said, “But watching you cook is going to be pure torture for me. Remember that when it’s my turn later.”
Julien let go of the door, and as it swung shut behind them, he smacked Robbie on the ass. “J’ai hâte.”
And all Julien heard as he walked off was Robbie calling out, “Wait…what does that mean?”
IN THE OFFICES of Mitchell & Madison, Priest walked inside his office and headed toward his desk, where he put his briefcase down and took a seat.
He shut his eyes for a moment and let Henri’s phone call from last night replay in his mind for the millionth time. It had been a long while since he’d heard from that elusive fucker, and honestly, Priest hadn’t ever expected to again. Not with the way they had left things.
Henri was one of those people he’d labeled as the past, and he’d put him in the same place he kept the rest of his baggage—far, far away from the world he now inhabited.
Priest rubbed a hand along the scruff covering his chin and eyed the phone on his desk that was mocking him. Just pick it up and call, the voice in his head told him. You’re not going to find out anything avoiding it. The problem was that Priest wasn’t sure he wanted to know more. What Henri had said last night had already caused a major shift in his universe. It had knocked the wind right out of his sails, and Priest wasn’t sure he could sustain another blow without some real damage appearing.
He shut his eyes, trying to calm the chaos that was swirling in his mind. But images, flashes, and distorted memories of a life no one should have to live flickered across his eyelids as they invaded his consciousness. Fuck.
He brought the heels of his palms up to his eyes and pressed them there, trying to rid himself of what he was seeing, but it was no use. For years he’d been trying to free himself of his past. Had been trying to outrun his family and all those connected to them. He’d done everything in his power to leave behind a legacy of pain, suffering, and blood he was somehow connected to, and replace it with something good, something…righteous. But it appeared that no matter how far he ran, no matter how well he hid, in the end, family would always catch up to you, whether you wanted them to or not.
Priest sat up in his chair and reached for the phone, and then he pulled out his cell and found the number Henri had called him from. He dialed, and as he sat back, he told himself this was just a phone call. But when the line connected and Henri said, “I wasn’t sure I’d hear back from you,” Priest recognized his lie for what it was.
“You almost didn’t. But after that message you left, it’s not like I had much choice, did I?”
“We all have a choice,” Henri said, and Priest steeled himself against the barrage of emotions that came along with the familiar voice. “I’d think you of all people would know that…Priest.”
Priest tried to bite back the urge he had to slam the phone down in its cradle. Fuck, Henri. He didn’t need this shit. He didn’t have to explain his decisions to anyone but those they concerned, and they sure as fuck didn’t involve the man at the other end of the phone anymore.
He and Henri had parted ways over a decade ago when it had become clear that their relationship would never be more than a toxic wasteland. One he visited when he was angry, depressed, or one step from homicidal. This wasn’t a hey, how you doing call, to catch up with a past fling. He was calling for one reason and one reason only. “Is it true?”
“About Big Jimmy?”
“No, about fucking Santa Claus,” Priest said. “Of course about Jimmy.”
“It’s true,” Henri said. “The feds are keeping it on the down-low for now, since news like this wouldn’t end so well for ol’ Jim, would it? Considering there’d only be one way he’d ever get a chance of freedom. But our firm was contacted the second the talk of a deal was put on the table.”
Priest scoffed. “As if he isn’t enough of a fucking disappointment as a human. Why not add tur
ning rat to his list?” There was silence at the other end of the phone, and then Priest said, “What makes you think I won’t tell anyone?”
It was a legitimate question. The quickest way to be rid of the monster who had once terrorized him would be to go to the press, leak this news, and let someone who liked Jimmy even less than Priest finish him off.
“Because I know you, even though you like to pretend that I don’t. You picked your new name for a reason,” Henri said. “And no matter who fathered you, you are nothing like him, Joel. If you go to the news, you know he’ll wind up dead.”
“So? That’s what he deserves.”
“Maybe so, but you’ve spent your whole life trying to atone and remove yourself from his sins. From what I remember, you punished yourself daily. I doubt that’s changed. So unless you want his death on your conscience—”
“Fuck you, Henri. What do you know about my conscience?” But even as Priest squeezed his eyes shut, he knew that Henri understood him almost as well as Julien did, which only served to piss him off more. “Why tell me any of this at all?”
“Because you deserve to know. Because you would’ve told me if things were reversed. I thought you’d want a heads-up.”
Priest shook his head. What a fucking nightmare this was turning out to be. “I hope you’re not expecting a thank you.”
“From you?” Henri scoffed. “Never. But Priest?”
“What?” Priest said, as his fingers tightened around the phone.
“This number you called from today, it’s private. That’s good. But change your cell. I hate pain as much as the next man, and who knows who’s listening.”
Priest didn’t have anything to say in response to that. He knew exactly what Henri was telling him: Change your number in case someone discovers we’ve talked and they try and get it out of me.
“Consider it changed.”
“Call me next week, that’s when I’ll know more. See you around…Priest,” Henri said, and as Priest hung up, all he could think was: I sure as fuck hope not.
Chapter Four
CONFESSION
It’s true what they say:
Love makes you do stupid, crazy things.
Or, in my case, break a few laws.
JULIEN WALKED INSIDE the space that had become a second home to him since moving to Chicago, and took in the familiar and comforting atmosphere of the kitchen that greeted him.
Along three of the outer walls ran stainless-steel food-prep stations in the shape of a horseshoe, and at the far end was the hand- and dish-washing area. In the center of the kitchen, where the true magic happened, there were four industrial-sized gas ranges with ovens facing one another, and overhead were the enormous exhaust hoods to funnel out the steam and heat produced over the course of hours spent on prep and cooking.
Under the counters were the pots, pans, mixers, and food processors—anything and everything one would need to make it through a night of cooking in a five-star restaurant. But Julien led Robbie past all of that to the walk-in refrigeration unit where they could decide what they were going to cook today.
“Have you ever been in a restaurant’s kitchen, princesse?”
“Only in my dreams,” Robbie said, and when Julien looked at him over his shoulder, Robbie grinned. “Okay, that would be a no. But I feel like I practically lived in one for months because I watched this show where a super-hot French-American chef won. You might’ve heard of it.”
Julien rolled his eyes and continued over to the fridge. “You might want to retie that coat of yours. It’s a little chilly in here,” he said, and then unlocked and opened the locker door to walk inside.
“Wow,” Robbie said, and knotted the belt at his waist as he stepped in behind Julien and looked at the rows of food in front of them.
“Right now we only have the bare minimum of everything, so the crew can familiarize themselves with the menu we’ll be serving. But if you have an idea of something you’d like to cook, let me know and I can see if I have what we need.”
Robbie scanned the shelves in front of him, and as he walked deeper into the unit, Julien watched him go, curious what he would pick out for them.
“Did you always want to be a chef?” Robbie asked, as he walked past a shelf full of colorful fruits and vegetables.
“Always,” Julien said, as Robbie picked up a cantaloupe and brought it to his nose.
“Really?”
“Mhmm. Almost every memory I have as a child somehow involves food. Whether it be cooking it or eating it. My dad worked a lot and my mom loved to cook. So she and our chef, Aurélien, would teach Jacquelyn and me their favorite recipes. It seemed like a natural choice in the end.”
“They must be very proud of you, then,” Robbie said, as he put the fruit back on the shelf.
Not even a little bit, Julien thought, but said nothing as Robbie continued to pick up different pieces of produce to examine. He wasn’t about to lay all of that history at Robbie’s feet today—not now. He wanted to share his passion for cooking and creating, give Robbie a chance to breathe after the heaviness he’d walked into last night with Priest. But as Julien stood there, he was finding it difficult to push aside the memories now invading his personal space.
“They live in L.A., right? Your parents?” Robbie continued, unaware of the emotions his questions were bringing to the surface, and Julien could tell he wasn’t asking to be pushy or nosey but because he truly wanted to know more.
“That’s right,” Julien said, and knew this would be the perfect time to ask Robbie if he wanted to come with them next week when they flew out there. But again, if he did that, then he’d have to get into why they were going. And he wasn’t quite ready to go there just yet. “What about your parents?”
“They live in Oshkosh. It’s a couple of hours out of Chicago.”
“Ah, so not far, then.”
Robbie shook his head. “Nope, not far at all. My sisters live there too, which makes me kind of sad, because I don’t get to see them as much as I’d like. But as they always point out, I’m the one who moved away, not them.”
“Why?” Julien asked, as Robbie picked up a bunch of spinach and headed back toward him.
“Why did I move?”
“Oui. You seem to have a wonderful relationship with your family, so I’m curious. If you don’t mind me asking.”
Robbie stopped and tapped the spinach against Julien’s chest. “Why, the men of course, Mr. Thornton. The selection of hot gay males in Oshkosh is minimal, to say the least, but Chicago? That’s a whole other ball game.” Robbie laughed when he realized what he’d said. “And yes, that pun is most certainly intended.”
“I’m going to try and rein in the impulse I have to be jealous right now,” Julien said as he took the greens from Robbie.
“Why? I don’t mind,” Robbie said with a cheeky grin. “I love knowing that you wish I was only yours.”
Julien leaned in and kissed Robbie’s lips. “You’re only mine now. I suppose that will have to do, won’t it?”
“Well, yours and Priest’s.”
“What’s his is mine,” Julien said without pause. “It’s one of the things I love best about our relationship.”
Robbie smiled against Julien’s mouth. “It’s one of the things that I love best too.”
“Bien.”
“That means good, right?”
“Right.”
“Bien.” Robbie pulled back so he could look into Julien’s smiling eyes, and then pursed his lips. “You two, you’re so…unlikely.”
“I suppose we are. But we had an unlikely beginning, if you’ll recall.”
“Oh, I remember. Stealing Priest’s car? I’m never going to forget that. I bet he was so pissed off.”
“He definitely wasn’t pleased,” Julien said. “But I guess he had good reason. I was a bit of a delinquent.”
Robbie started to laugh. “Umm, you think? I mean, how did you even end up together after that? It’s not like you cou
ld just call and be like, ‘Hey, remember me? I’m the guy who tried to steal your car.’”
“Not true. I did call him.”
“You did? Tell me,” Robbie said, and tugged on Julien’s sweater. “I love hearing about how you two met.”
Julien grinned at Robbie’s pout and wondered if he’d ever be able to resist that face. “Do you?”
“I do. It helps me understand the both of you so much more. Plus, I love imagining Priest all pissy and you charming your way into his pants.” Robbie’s eyes widened. “Ooh, you are going to tell me about that, right? Your first kiss? Your first…getting naked together.”
“I’m sure it will come up eventually.”
“Oh, I’m positive that I’ll be up if you’re telling that story. But just to be certain, can you be sure to use several descriptive French words when you do? You know, to further my education.”
Julien chuckled at Robbie’s audaciousness. “I promise. But to answer your question about why I called him again, I got myself arrested.”
“What? Like, on purpose?”
Julien nodded. “Uh-huh. I wanted to see him again.”
“And that was the only way?”
Julien started to really laugh. “The only way I could think of at the time. Looking back now, it probably wasn’t the smartest move I could’ve made, because after that, Priest was convinced I was a criminal. He loathed me.”
“No,” Robbie said, shaking his head. “There’s no way he ever looked at you other than the way he does now.”
“And how does Priest look at me, princesse?”
“Like you’re everything he needs to survive another day.”
Julien placed the spinach on the shelf beside him, and then reached for Robbie’s cool hands. “Not everything,” he said, as he bent his head and blew a warm breath over their joined hands. “I’m not you.”
Robbie took in a shaky breath, and Julien raised his eyes to see that Robbie’s had glazed over.
“That’s a different conversation altogether, though. I believe we all need each other to survive. That’s why fate put us in one another’s path.” Robbie swayed a little toward him, and Julien brought their hands up to kiss his knuckles. “Priest bailed me out of jail the second time we met. Then he drove me home and told me to never call him again.”