by Ella Frank
Robbie didn’t let Priest finish. He crushed their mouths together as Priest began to move in him, and when Robbie raised his head to let out a moan of toe-curling ecstasy, Julien took his place.
Damn. The two of them were so incredibly hot, and seeing them side by side like this, their mouths melded, Julien’s hand on Priest’s face, made Robbie’s hips move a little faster. As his dick stirred back to life, Robbie put his hands on Priest’s chest and pushed up until he was seated, and began to ride him until Priest was hitting Robbie’s prostate.
Priest pulled his mouth free to let out a groan, and his hands found Robbie’s hips as he began to tunnel up in to him. Robbie swiped his fingers through his cum and used it to slick his dick, and as Julien whispered something in Priest’s ear and then kissed him, that was it for Priest. He clenched his teeth, arched his head back into the pillows, and then came inside Robbie in a hot flood of release.
It was the perfect end to a perfect night, and as the three of them caught their breaths, Robbie reached for the towel he’d tossed at the end of the bed, cleaned himself off, and then looked down at the two staring up at him. “Well, if that’s what our marital bed is going to be like, sign me up for life.”
Priest grabbed Robbie and tumbled him down between him and Julien. “It was too late anyway. You already said yes.”
“Mhmm,” Julien said in his ear, and then kissed Robbie under it. “You’re stuck with us for life now.”
“Sounds like heaven to me,” Robbie said, as he turned his head to kiss Julien.
“It does, doesn’t it?” Julien whispered, and then smiled against Robbie’s lips.
Robbie looked to Priest to see his eyes were shut and his mouth was relaxed, as he lay there silently, his breathing even.
It was amazing. After all this time of not sleeping, Priest seemed to be making up for it. He could now fall asleep in the blink of an eye and stay that way for hours, and while some might be a little miffed at that after what had just happened there tonight, Robbie merely turned to his side and cuddled into Julien to watch over him, both of them happy that Priest could now find peace so quickly when he lay down beside them.
“Sweet dreams, princesse,” Julien said as he switched off the lamps.
Robbie smiled into the pillow and knew nothing would compare to the dream he’d walked into tonight, and whispered back, “Sweet dreams to you, Jules.” Not a second later, he drifted off into a blissful sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dumbstruck.
Apparently, that’s what Logan Mitchell makes my men.
I just might have to kill him
~ Priest
“STOP FIDGETING,” PRIEST said in Robbie’s ear, as he stood behind him with Julien on Logan and Tate’s front stoop.
It was Sunday night, and when they’d gotten back from the cottage, Logan had called and invited them over for drinks if they weren’t busy. Since their new house was only three blocks from the Mitchells’, Robbie had jumped at the chance to be able to tell someone other than his family his big news, until they’d walked up the pathway to the front door. Now he seemed a little…apprehensive.
Robbie tilted his chin up and then said haughtily, “I’m not fidgeting.”
Priest’s lips quirked, and he thought, Nice try. “Yes, you are. Nervous about something?”
“Nervous?” Robbie gave a little laugh. “Why would I be nervous? I’ve known Logan and Tate for years.”
“Oui,” Julien said, as he trailed a finger under Robbie’s chin. “But I believe Priest was asking if you were nervous about telling them we got engaged this weekend.”
Robbie scraped his teeth over his lower lip. “Why would I be nervous about that?”
Priest leaned in until their lips were barely a whisper apart. “I don’t know. Why would you be?”
Robbie’s cheeks flushed pink, and just as he was about to reply, the front door was pulled open, and he whirled around to face Tate.
“Hey, guys,” Tate said as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “Come in, come in. Logan’s in the, ah”—Tate cleared his throat and stepped to the side—“he’s in the kitchen.”
“Thanks for having us over tonight,” Robbie said as he walked inside.
“Of course,” Tate said, and Priest noticed the slightly rumpled shirt he was wearing. “You can head straight through. You remember the way, Robbie.”
Robbie nodded and disappeared toward the kitchen with Julien following.
As Priest passed by Tate, he pointed to his shirt. “You missed a button.”
Tate glanced down, and sure enough, two of the center buttons were off. He’d either been running late and rushing or—
“At least it’s only one,” Tate said with a wry grin. “If you’d been five minutes later, who knows how I’d be greeting the door.”
Exactly what Priest had suspected. No wonder Logan wasn’t the one to greet them; he was probably in the kitchen trying to get himself under control…or having a stiff drink.
“We can always do this some other time,” Priest said, making Tate laugh.
“Nah, it builds character for him to have to wait for it occasionally.”
Priest barked out a laugh, as Tate shut the door behind him. “That or drives them to drink.”
“Either way, Logan will survive,” Tate said. “Come on in.”
Priest headed through the beautifully decorated home, and while the style wasn’t really his, Priest had to admit, the Mitchells’ place was cozy and inviting.
Over to his left, there was a fireplace that had a TV mounted above it and a sitting area facing it. The front bay window let in the moonlight tonight, and as he followed Tate through that space and past an elegant dining area, Priest heard the chatter of the other three men in the kitchen.
As he and Tate stepped inside, Priest spotted Julien standing on one side of a long kitchen island and Robbie beside him with an arm tucked through the crook of Julien’s elbow, head resting on his shoulder.
Logan was standing on the opposite side of the counter with a cutting board, lemons—one of which had been cut into segments—and a knife. There was a tequila bottle on the marble, and two flipped-over shot glasses beside it.
Ahh, Priest thought, as he wandered down toward his men. So the licking, sipping, and sucking had most certainly started before they’d arrived.
“Okay, old man,” Logan said to Robbie. “What can I start you with tonight?”
Robbie pinned Logan with a withering stare. “Who are you calling old man? You’re the one who turned—”
“Say it, and you’ll regret it,” Logan said, pointing the knife at Robbie.
Robbie rolled his eyes. “Oh, whatever,” he said, and then he looked at Priest, and the grin on his face was pure mischief.
“You going to tell me what you want?” Logan said.
“I’m thinking,” Robbie said, and pursed his lips. “Do these two first.” When Logan raised an eyebrow, Robbie seemed to realize what he’d said and laughed. “I mean get them a drink. Geez, Logan, get your mind out of my men’s pants.”
Priest kissed Robbie’s temple and said, “Don’t be too hard on him, sweetheart. Tate’s already doing that.”
“Oh really?” Robbie said, as the rascal looked between Logan and Tate. “In that case, how about a Cock Tease? Do you know how to make one of those?”
Logan turned toward Tate and drawled, “I’m positive one of us does. Right, Tate?”
Tate flashed Logan a grin. “Ah huh. I’m fairly familiar with that one.”
“Aren’t we all,” Julien said, and looked over Robbie’s head to Priest, making it clear to everyone in the room exactly who the holdout was in their particular threesome.
Logan scoffed and began to slice the other lemons on the board. Then he looked at Priest and said with a curl to his lips, “Now why doesn’t it surprise me that you’re the control freak in this relationship?”
Priest eyed Logan. “Because despite your tendency to be a p
ain in the ass, you’re one of the smartest people I know.”
Logan stopped slicing and looked at Robbie and Julien. “Did he just give me a compliment?” Julien smirked as Robbie nodded, and Logan continued, “Can someone please note that down somewhere? And for the record, Priest, I’m never a pain in the ass to the people I love. I’m careful to make it an enjoyable experience. Right, Tate?”
“Oh my God,” Robbie said. “How many drinks have you had?”
“One shot of tequila,” Logan said. “And a nice, long suck of Tate’s—”
“Lemons,” Tate said, and then shoved a bottle of raspberry and vanilla rum Logan’s way. “Here, two ounces of each of those, and I’ll grab the cranberry and pineapple juice. What can I get for you, Julien?”
“He’ll have a Tom Collins, and Priest will have an Old Fashioned,” Robbie said.
Priest smiled and slipped his hand down over Robbie’s ass, as Julien winked at him and said, “Merci de prendre soin de nous, princesse.”
Robbie’s face flushed, and Priest’s eyes shifted to Logan, who was laughing at him.
“You all right there, Robbie?” Logan said. “Or do you need a seat in case your knees give out on you?”
Robbie turned back to face Logan. “Shut it, Logan, or…I don’t know, go suck on Tate’s…lemon.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now? Good to know.” Tate laughed as he mixed Julien’s and Priest’s drinks and then slid them across the counter. “Why don’t you three come with me? We can get the fire pit going and settle in while Logan gets some food ready for us.”
“Would you like some help?” Julien asked Logan.
“You know what?” Logan said. “I think I might. It’s not every day one gets the opportunity to cook with one of the greats.”
“And let’s be real, any help you can get will improve the meal,” Tate joked.
Robbie followed Tate’s lead and headed outside, and Priest stopped to look back at Julien, who was walking around the counter to where Logan was holding out an apron to him. Deciding to give Logan a little bit of his own medicine, Priest crossed his arms and looked at the pair.
“Hey, Mitchell?” Priest called out from the back door, and once Julien had his apron on, Logan turned to face Priest. “Don’t even think about flirting with my husband while I’m not here.”
Logan smirked. “Worried we’re about to heat up the kitchen?”
Priest didn’t crack a smile as he eyed Logan’s smug face, then he looked at Julien. “And you, try to be a little less attractive or something, would you?”
Julien laughed at Priest’s stern expression.
“I’m serious,” Priest said. “The whole country knows that when you cook, you only get hotter. So, Mitchell, behave yourself.”
“Oh relax, Priest,” Logan said. “I’m a happily married man.”
“So are we, and look what happened to us.”
“Priest, you wound me,” Logan said. “You really think I’m going to hit on your husband? And here I thought we’d come so far.”
Priest shrugged, and when Logan finally started to bristle a little, he laughed. “I’m just fucking with you, Mitchell. Enjoy your cooking lesson. You’re learning from the best.”
Logan hurled a lemon in his direction, and when it missed, he muttered, “Fucker,” and shot the finger at Priest as he walked out the back door.
A COUPLE OF hours later, as Robbie finished off his latest Cock Tease, he felt the buzzed sense of relaxation wash over him.
He shifted back between the men flanking either side of him, and he knew that Julien and Priest were wondering when he was going to tell Logan and Tate their news. He was building to it, really, he was. But there just hadn’t been the right moment, or, you know, the right amount of alcohol.
It wasn’t that he was afraid to tell them. It was just that, after the way Logan had reacted to the three of them when they’d first gotten together, Robbie had started to second-guess the response he might get now.
Robbie had known Logan and Tate for a long time, and considered them family—and if he said this out loud and saw anything but the joy he felt about it all, he wasn’t quite sure how he’d deal with that.
Robbie’s eyes shifted to the man he’d once fancied himself in love with, and he let his gaze trail over Logan’s coal-colored hair, those laughing blue eyes, and the pressed polo shirt and shorts.
Logan would always be one of the most attractive men Robbie had ever seen. But he’d come to realize that the love he felt for Julien and Priest was so much more than the infatuation he’d had for Logan. These two men beside him owned him body and soul. Exactly the same way, Robbie supposed, that Tate owned Logan, and that was what it all came down to: that feeling of belonging.
It all makes sense now…
“Earth to Robbie,” Logan said, but it wasn’t until Julien said in Robbie’s ear, “Ça va, princesse?” that Robbie snapped out of his daze.
He turned his head until his lips were only inches from Julien’s. “Mhmm. I was just thinking.”
“I don’t even want to know about what,” Logan said.
Robbie licked his lips and then decided, what the hell. Now was as good a time as any. “My fiancés, actually.”
All conversation ceased at that little announcement, and when the words Robbie had said registered, Logan looked between all three of them and said, “Fiancés?”
Robbie bit into his lip and waited, and when no one said anything, he was about two seconds away from demanding someone speak.
Then, finally, Logan did. “Okay, I don’t know if you two are brave or just crazy to take him on for life.”
Robbie’s mouth fell open at the same time Logan and Tate got to their feet. And as they walked around the fire pit, Robbie realized Logan was messing with him.
“Excuse me,” Robbie said as he stood and faced off with Logan. “As if people didn’t say the same thing to Tate about you.”
“I believe you were probably one of them.” Logan smirked as he reached for Robbie and pulled him into a hug. “But we proved you all wrong. It’s nice to see you doing the same thing.”
Robbie wound his arms around Logan’s waist and grinned into the side of his neck.
“I’m happy for you,” Logan whispered, and kissed his cheek. “I’m happy for you all.”
Robbie wasn’t sure why he felt so emotional, but when he pulled back, he found himself wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.
Tate was busy shaking Julien’s and Priest’s hands, and when all three looked at Robbie and Logan, Tate nodded and said, “I want to thank you two for finally giving Robbie someone to dream about besides my husband.”
Robbie eyed Logan and made a show of rolling his eyes. “Oh please, his charm hasn’t worked on me for a long time.”
Tate scoffed. “And here I thought that day would never come.”
“Neither did I,” Priest said, making Robbie look in his direction. “What? You must admit, when we first met, you were rather besotted by him.”
Robbie’s face heated with embarrassment under Priest’s steady gaze and crooked grin.
“You didn’t exactly keep it a secret,” Tate pointed out.
“It’s not my fault,” Robbie said. “Everyone who meets Logan is dumbstruck. It’s like a rite of passage. His face is too perfect or something. But then he opens his mouth and—”
“Excuse me,” Logan said. “You are in my house, you do remember that, right? Buzzed on my liquor.”
Robbie adopted a fake pout and batted his lashes. “Mhmm. It’s really good, too.”
“Plus,” Logan said, crossing his arms, “no one I know has ever complained when I’ve opened my mouth.”
Robbie started laughing, delighted by the familiar volleying with Logan. It had always been that way with them, and he knew it always would be. Then Julien managed to snag everyone’s attention.
“I have to agree with Robbie on this one,” he said to Logan. “I remember the first time I met you.
The night Priest sent me to The Popped Cherry. I have to admit, I was rather… What did you call it, princesse? Dumbstruck?”
Robbie’s mouth fell open as he remembered the exact moment he’d seen Julien sitting at Tate’s bar. He’d told Logan that he couldn’t go and serve him because it was, well, Jules, and just like the cocky bastard Logan was, he’d sauntered right up to Julien, not having a clue who he was, and taken his order.
Julien chuckled at Robbie’s expression, and when Robbie’s brain kicked back in, he said, “Wait, you thought Logan was hot?”
“Again, I’m right here,” Logan said.
Julien’s eyes twinkled as he stared at Robbie. “Is. He is hot. So is Tate. How many times have you told me this?”
“Yeah, but you and Priest are—”
“Married? Oui. And you are engaged. That doesn’t mean we’re blind, mon cher petit.” Julien winked. “But don’t fret; I was merely biding my time with him until someone prettier got the courage to come and talk to me.”
“I wasn’t nervous that night,” Robbie lied.
“You were so nervous that night,” Logan said.
Tate laughed. “It’s true. He went on and on about how he’d watched every episode of your show. Then he refused to go and serve you—”
“So you got me instead,” Logan said.
Priest’s and Julien’s rumbling laughter had Robbie death-glaring at Logan and Tate. “Ugh, you two suck.”
“Just a little payback,” Tate said.
“Plus,” Logan said, “I got you to go over and talk to him, and look at you now? You’re engaged to the man. So I’d say you owe me.”
“Actually, that’s not true,” Priest said, and Robbie could’ve kissed him for that. “Julien would’ve found a way to talk to him one way or another. I sent him there for that very reason. Therefore, I would say that Robert owes me—for the rest of his life.”
Priest’s voice had dipped a register, to that sexy place it went whenever he was naked and inside Robbie or Julien, and when Robbie met his wicked gaze, he saw the heated desire and love swirling in Priest’s grey eyes.