by Ella Frank
Never. Knowing Priest, he probably expected all men to kneel at his feet if they wanted his attention.
“Once,” Julien said, as he stepped back from the door. “He’s done it once before.”
Before Robbie could think over the meaning behind that, the doors slid shut, locking him inside, and then the elevator began to move.
Shit. Oh shit.
He quickly downed the rest of his drink and looked himself over to make sure everything was in order.
Fuck, why does Priest always make me so damn nervous? I look phenomenal. Of course he wants me. I hold the power.
But when the elevator jolted to a stop and the door slid open, revealing the man who made him feel so off-balance, Robbie knew that any power he held was nothing in comparison to whatever it was that Priest possessed.
“Robert. Won’t you join me?”
Robbie straightened his shoulders as he stepped off the elevator, determined to hold his ground and not be intimidated.
He wants me. He wants me, Robbie repeated in his head. But when Priest’s lips curved into a mere hint of a smile, Robbie cursed, because damn it, he wanted him too.
“How did you like the bar area? I feel you are a good person to judge, considering where you work,” Priest said, as though this wasn’t the strangest situation Robbie had ever found himself in. Not because there were two men involved. Oh no, that he could handle, and had several times before.
This was strange because a) they were married, and Robbie wasn’t sure what he was allowed to do or say, and to who. And b) one of those men was Joel fucking Priestley. A man who’d rubbed him wrong from the moment they’d met. A man who Robbie wanted rubbing him right now, despite every warning in his brain.
“It’s unbelievable. People are going to die when they see it,” Robbie said, as he looked around and ordered his legs to move. The space he was now standing in was like one of those fancy boxes at a sports game but instead of overlooking a stadium, the room overlooked the restaurant and kitchen below.
“I agree,” Priest said, and Robbie shifted his eyes to the man who sat on the black leather seat that stretched across the far wall.
There were shelves behind Priest with photos of Julien from the show, with other chefs—there was even one with Priest in front of the Eiffel Tower—and the table was elegantly set with wine glasses of different sizes, a pitcher of iced water, and shiny silverware. There were two low chairs on Robbie’s side of the table, and the room held an air of culinary sophistication. But those privacy curtains Robbie could see pushed back from the windows implied that the vibe in this room could change to down and dirty in mere seconds.
Priest had one arm casually resting across the back of the seat, and the other stretched out on the table. There was a closed laptop in front of him, a bottle and glass of wine beside it, and the only sign that Priest was anything other than one hundred percent relaxed was the tap, tap, tap of his index finger against the pristine tablecloth. “This room is my favorite.”
“Of course it is,” Robbie said, and made his way over to the table where he stopped behind one of the low chairs.
“Why do you say that?”
“It’s private. You don’t have to deal with other human beings. And you get to spy on everyone from up here in your great tower.”
Priest reached for his wine and took a sip. “I’d agree with that. You pay attention. That’s good.”
“I’m so happy to please you,” Robbie said, tongue in cheek, and tapped the back of the chair, trying to think of something to say as the elevator whirred, indicating it was going down. Oh thank you, Jesus. Julien was coming up.
“Robert?”
“Yeah?”
“Why don’t you sit down?” Priest said, and looked at the seat opposite him.
Robbie put his empty glass on the table and pulled out a chair, and he was intensely aware of each sound the elevator made as he stared at Priest, who was watching his every move.
Once he was seated, Robbie let his eyes roam over Priest’s face to the scruff covering his cheeks and surrounding his lips. He wondered if it was soft or rough, and how it would feel against his skin. Would it leave a mark if Priest kissed him hard enough? Or would it…tickle?
Okay, wow. That was just weird thinking about Priest like that, and as a soft chime alerted him that the elevator was back on their floor, Robbie swallowed and told himself to chill out already.
Julien’s chuckle was a welcome sound in the tension-filled room. “And here I was worried that things would be awkward up here.”
Priest finally broke eye contact with Robbie to look over his shoulder at his husband.
“Not awkward at all,” Priest said. “We were just getting comfortable.”
As Priest talked, Robbie found his eyes drawn back to his mouth. Back to thinking about how it would feel on top of his, demanding he open for him and— Oh my God. I’m going insane.
“Robert?”
“What?” he snapped, and then realized how he sounded. “Sorry. What did you say?”
“I asked if you were okay?” Priest said, as Julien placed two silver-domed plates on the table, and then walked around to take a seat beside his husband.
Robbie’s eyes moved between the pair, and then landed on Priest. Was he okay? Somehow, that didn’t feel like the best way to describe what he was feeling right then. He’d never been more turned on or confused about anything in his life. Usually, a hookup was simple. He’d hit a club, down some alcohol, dance his ass off, and then wind up in someone’s bed.
This scenario was light years away from anything he’d participated in. So no, he wasn’t…okay. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No,” Priest said, short and succinct, as always.
And that was when Robbie finally lost it. “No, I’m not okay. I feel like I’m sitting at a job interview with a hard-on where I have to be on my best behavior. When all I really want is—” Robbie clamped his mouth shut just in time to stop the words he’d been going to say from flying out of it.
“When all you really want is what?” Priest said, and it didn’t escape Robbie that his voice now sounded several octaves lower than it had a second ago.
“Nothing.” Robbie crossed his arms, frustrated, and when Julien chuckled, Robbie aimed his eyes at him. “What’s so funny?”
“You, princesse,” Julien said. “You’re cute when you pout.”
“I’m not pouting,” Robbie said, and did just that as Priest lowered his arm from the back of the seat and clasped his hands on the table.
“What did I tell you about lying?” Priest said.
Robbie rolled his eyes. “I’m not lying.”
“I think you are.”
“And I don’t care,” Robbie told him, barely resisting the urge to stick out his tongue, and this time, Priest started to laugh.
“Okay, then. How about I go first?” Priest said, and Robbie wondered what the hell he was talking about. “I’m going to really enjoy spanking your ass before I fuck it whenever you run your mouth like that with me.”
Robbie’s eyes became wide as saucers. He did not just say that to me.
“Of course,” Priest continued, “that’s dependent on whether or not you decide you want that to happen.”
Uhh… Robbie was busy trying to remember how to work his tongue, but his dick sure had no problem letting its decision be known.
It wanted in.
Somewhere.
Now.
Julien leaned into Priest’s side and nuzzled his nose against the stubble of his husband’s cheek, then he flicked his tongue over Priest’s earlobe, making Robbie squirm on his seat.
Fuck, they’re hot together. So. Goddamn. Hot.
“Do you?” Priest said, and Robbie blinked a couple of times, trying to think, which was difficult when all the blood had up and left his head.
What did Priest want to know? Oh right, if Robbie was interested. Well, that all depended on one thing. He just had to remember how to spe
ak so he could ask.
“What—” When Robbie’s voice cracked, Priest’s lips twisted in an arrogant grin, and that cocksure expression as he was getting kissed all over, and God only knew what beneath the table, when Robbie was sitting there achingly hard, made Robbie’s spine stiffen with annoyance.
Thinks he can shock me, does he? What was it Julien had said to Robbie? That he held the power. Well, let’s see about that.
“Fine,” Robbie said, proud of the fact his voice sounded clear and in control compared to a second ago. “You want me to be honest? I’ll be honest. If you two could stop with the foreplay, that’d be really nice. It’s making my dick hard, which is making me irritable. More irritable than the fact that I’m hangry, and that never ends well for anyone.” Robbie picked up his napkin, flicked it open, and laid it on his lap. “Then, after I eat, maybe we can talk about what you’re offering, and I’ll decide if it sounds like something I want to get in the middle of—quite literally.”
Julien’s eyes twinkled with mischief, letting Robbie know he’d just played his part to perfection as Priest arched a cool eyebrow.
“Okay?” Robbie said. “Okay. So, what’s for dinner, chef?” Robbie then reached for the silver dome in front of him and lifted it off. “I believe you promised me something French in my mouth.”
Chapter Nine
CONFESSION
Having a big mouth is never overrated.
Especially around a pompous ass and a lovely prick.
BRAVO, MONSIEUR, THAT was perfect, Julien thought, as he looked over at Robbie, who was busy studying his plate.
When Julien had first entered the skybox, the tension up there could’ve been cut with a knife. But after a few minutes and a little visual stimulation, Robbie had finally let his frustration out and settled into being himself, which was exactly who they wanted him to be.
“I did promise you something French, didn’t I?” Julien said in answer to Robbie’s question, as he sat back on the seat and casually rested an arm behind Priest, and Robbie continued to inspect the food he’d just uncovered.
When he finally raised his eyes to meet Julien’s, the sass from only seconds ago had been replaced with awe and respect. “This is a work of art. I can’t eat this.”
“Yes, you can. He’ll be offended if you don’t,” Priest said, as he removed the cover on his plate also. “One thing you need to know about Julien is that his ego likes to be stroked almost as much as his cock.”
A burst of laughter escaped Robbie at that, and a truce of sorts settled around them all. “I know. I learned that from watching him on Chef Master.”
Priest took his napkin from the table, unfolded it, and draped it over his lap. “In that case, you also know he’s a pain in the ass. But if you ask him nicely, he’ll make sure to stretch you nice and good first.”
“It’s true, I will,” Julien said, and then slowly licked his lower lip. “One of my favorite things to do.”
“Oh my God,” Robbie said. “You two are… Shit.”
Julien winked and then gestured to the plate in front of Robbie. “Your meal tonight is: Colorado Lamb Chop, White and Petit Rouge Sea Island Peas, Yellow Chicorée, and Minted Mustard.”
“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Robbie said. “I’m still thinking about your favorite things list.”
Priest smirked as Julien repeated himself, and then he added, “I assume you eat meat.”
The minx across from them grinned an unholy grin and nodded. “Oh yes, I love to eat meat.”
Julien let his eyes fall to Robbie’s lips, picturing them wrapped around his or Priest’s cock, and then hummed in the back of his throat. “Bien. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
Robbie looked at Priest’s plate, then his own, and said to Julien, “Are you not eating?”
“Non,” Julien said. “I was tasting as I cooked. I want you two to enjoy.”
Priest picked up the bottle of wine on the table to refill his glass, and then offered it to Robbie, who shook his head.
“I think I should stop with one drink tonight. I had plenty last night.”
“I agree,” Priest said, and Robbie immediately went on the defensive.
“Then why offer?”
“Because it’s the polite thing to do,” Priest said, as Julien filled a glass with water for Robbie instead.
“And you’re always polite?” Robbie said. “Yeah, right.”
“Perhaps polite is the wrong word,” Priest said, as he cut into his lamb chop.
“Proper,” Julien said. “The right word is proper. Priest likes things done as they should be. In order.”
Robbie rolled his eyes as he too cut into the lamb and then stabbed at it with his fork. “In other words, you’re a control freak.”
Priest silently brought the piece of lamb to his mouth, and as he slipped it inside, Julien watched those strong teeth bite down and clear the tines. Robbie was also staring across the table waiting for a reaction, and once Priest swallowed, he said, “Yes. That’s exactly what I am and what I like—control.”
Robbie’s eyes shifted back to Julien. “So how’s that work? You don’t exactly seem like the type who likes to be bossed around. I watched you on TV for four months, remember?”
Smart man. “You’re right. I’m not,” Julien said, as he slipped a hand over Priest’s thigh and Robbie brought his fork up to his mouth. “But that’s where you come in.”
Robbie’s fork halted midair, and the penny finally dropped. “Oh.”
“Oui.”
“So you want to control me?” Robbie started to laugh, and then he looked over at Priest, whose expression remained impassive, and laughed a little more. “Do I really seem like the kind of person who wants to be bossed around? Who’s going to listen to a word you say?”
“Yes,” Priest said, and Robbie’s mouth fell open.
“You’re delusional.”
“No, I’m not. Everything about you is shouting out for someone to look deeper. To find the real you, and know you,” Priest said, as he took hold of Julien’s hand and slid it up and over the erection now straining the zipper of his pants. “Your clothes, your attitude, all the glitter and shine. It makes my cock hard, and my fingers ache to strip away the layers because I want to see what’s underneath. We both want to see what’s underneath. And I think you want to show us.”
Julien caught the scent of Priest’s cologne as he widened his straddle on the seat beside him. A rich, masculine blend that brought to mind hot, rough sex, and Julien felt his heart race with anticipation.
At times like this, Priest was a force to be reckoned with. He was confident, determined, and focused on getting what he wanted—what they wanted—and that just happened to be the beautiful man sitting across from them all fresh-faced and wide-eyed.
ROBBIE COULDN’T TAKE his eyes off Priest. It was as though his words had hypnotized him, and he was surprised he hadn’t bent the fork he was holding, given how hard he was gripping the damn thing.
When he realized they were waiting for an answer, Robbie blinked a couple of times and said, “You’re wrong. I dress how I feel. There’s nothing more to it than that.”
“I agree,” Priest said. “You do dress according to how you feel. But the first time I saw you, you were lost. I’ve only ever met one other who was more so.”
Robbie narrowed his eyes, feeling more exposed sitting there fully dressed than he would’ve had he been standing naked. “I’m sorry, I thought you were a lawyer, not some second-rate psychiatrist. You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Trust me, I’m no psychiatrist. But I’ve been watching you for months now, and I know I’m right.”
Robbie snorted and put his fork back down on the plate, his food now forgotten. “You don’t know shit.”
“I know that you’re upset about Logan getting married, even though they’re your friends and you want them to be happy. I also know that you want to be with us, even though the thought
of it scares you.”
Robbie’s leg started to bounce under the table, and he wanted to scream at Priest that he was wrong. But damn the bastard, he wasn’t.
“Why?” Priest said as his eyes moved over Robbie’s face. “Why are you scared of us? I know you’ve been with two men before, so it can’t be that.”
Robbie felt his cheeks flame, but he refused to feel ashamed of his past. It wasn’t like these two held the prize for ethics and fucking morals.
“It’s not that,” he said, and then looked over at Julien. “But I’ve never been with two who were married.”
“Was that on purpose or just the way it worked out?” Priest asked, and Robbie glared at him.
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re annoying as hell?”
“Yes, many times,” Priest said, and then his eyes squeezed shut and let out a hiss of air. “Julien,” he growled out.
“Mon amour…” Julien purred by Priest’s ear. “Ease up on the questions, non?”
Robbie’s eyes dropped to where Julien’s hand was under the table. He had an idea of what was going on down there, but instead of the pleasure he expected Priest to be getting, it seemed as though Julien was somehow reining the jackass in, and that was totally hot.
“Let go, Julien. Or start moving your fucking hand,” Priest said in a tone that sounded like a whip cracking, but Julien just chuckled.
Priest’s nostrils flared as he took in what appeared to be a calming breath, and then he reopened his eyes and focused on Robbie, who noticed they were now that melted steel color.
Priest was highly aroused, and suddenly Robbie didn’t care that Priest could see too much and wanted to boss his ass around in the bedroom. No, Robbie just wanted to watch whatever was going to happen next.