Confessions: Priest (Confessions Series Book 3)

by Ella Frank

  She giggled in a way that would rival any schoolgirl, and when Julien looked past her to Robbie, he winked.

  “You are just heavenly,” Sofia said. “But stop that or you’ll make a fool out of this old lady.”

  “Non. Not possible,” Julien said as he straightened to his full height. “I see no old ladies here.”

  Sofia swatted at his chest, and as she did, Felicity walked over and stopped by Julien’s side. Robbie frowned and looked beyond them, clearly looking for his other sisters.

  “I see Robbie’s introduced you to Ma. You’ve been spared the rest of us Bianchis tonight; something came up,” Felicity said as though they were all old friends, and when a sly smile curved her lips, Julien could see the same little minx that resided in their princess gleaming in her eyes.

  Robbie turned his attention to Felicity. “Something came up?”

  “Ah, yes,” Felicity said, and her entire face lit up with a devious grin. “Penelope had to stay home at the last minute…food poisoning. Val decided to stay with her, and so did Dad.”

  Robbie let out an inelegant sound that had everyone looking at him, including his mother, and then he seemed to collect himself and shook his head as though very concerned by this news.

  “That food poisoning can be really bad, I hear.” He let out another small chuckle that had Felicity giggling. “Can last months and months.” After that, he lost it.

  Sofia frowned at her children before turning back to Julien. “Excuse them. They get a bit ridiculous when around one another. You and Mr. Priestley were telling me how you met my Robert.”

  “Oui,” Julien said. “Priest helped your cousin Vanessa, and I met Robbie at his job, The Popped Cherry.”

  “Oh, that’s lovely,” Sofia said, as she looked between the three of them. “I’m so glad that Robert’s found such lovely new friends.”

  Felicity coughed at that, and Robbie glared at her before turning to his mother. “Thanks, Ma. They are lovely,” he said, but conveniently left out any part that labeled them as “friends.”

  Sofia’s eyes narrowed a fraction, and then she looked between the two men she’d just met. Julien knew without a doubt that the wheels were turning. It was in the assessing way she was now looking at him and Priest.

  “And, um, how did you two say you knew one another?” she asked, and Julien and Priest looked to Robbie, who raised his eyes heavenward, as if he’d known this was coming and there was no fighting it.

  “They’re married, Ma,” Robbie said softly. “Julien just keeps things private due to being in the public eye and all.”

  “Ohhh,” she said, and nodded. “Well, you two make a striking couple, and both such gentlemen.”

  “Merci,” Julien said.

  Priest inclined his head. “That means a lot to us coming from someone who raised a dynamic man such as Robert.”

  Her eyes lit at Priest’s use of Robbie’s full name, and she beamed. “I couldn’t agree more. My baby boy is truly special. Whoever ends up with him will be extremely lucky.”

  “Stop it, Ma,” Robbie said, but wrapped his arm around his mother’s waist and pulled her into his side.

  “It’s true. So whoever they are,” she said, and took either side of his jaw between her thumb and forefinger, making sure she had his complete attention, “they better treat you right.”

  Her word choice of they didn’t escape anyone. When Robbie kissed the top of her head and aimed a crooked smile at Julien and Priest, all Julien could think was that they most certainly planned to treat Robert Antonio Bianchi right.

  “DID I JUST see you standing over there chatting with your mother and your married boyfriends?”

  Robbie would’ve known that voice anywhere, and when he looked up from Elliot’s text saying he was on the way, he spotted Logan Mitchell standing hand in hand with his husband, Tate, and let out a huff of air.

  “Yes. Oh my God. I told them she would work things out the second she saw me with them. And I was right. She should’ve been a detective.”

  Logan scoffed as he reached out to finger one of Robbie’s lapels. “Well, she didn’t murder either of them, so there’s that. You clean up nice, Bianchi.”

  Robbie glanced down at his suit, remembering the reaction Priest and Julien had had to it earlier tonight. He aimed a cocky look at Logan and said, “I know.”

  Tate chuckled and looked at the crowds of people now all moving toward their assigned seats for the night. “This place is something else. Julien sure knows how to make an impression.”

  Robbie couldn’t stop the pride that filled him at the obvious admiration in Tate’s voice. He raised his eyes and spotted the skybox. “That’s a private table—well, floor, really. He was originally going to open it to the public because it overlooks the kitchen area as well as the actual restaurant. But once he moved in, he decided to keep it private for him and Pr—well, us.”

  Logan smirked and looked up. “Aren’t you lucky? A private table, at the hottest restaurant in town? Must be pretty pleased with yourself.”

  Robbie was, actually. “Why shouldn’t I be? You can’t always be the smuggest person in a room, Logan.”

  Logan leaned into Tate’s side and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Yes, I can. Have you seen my husband?”

  “Ugh,” Robbie said, but where that comment would’ve once made him feel a twist of jealousy in his gut, he now found himself grinning at Logan’s cockiness, because he totally felt the same way about his two men.

  “So,” Logan said as he glanced in the direction Robbie was looking, “how are things with you three?”

  Robbie brought his attention back to his friends—and yes, that was exactly who Logan and Tate were, his dear, dear friends—and couldn’t stop the enormous grin from crossing his face.

  “That good, huh?”

  Robbie nodded enthusiastically. “It’s…amazing.”

  “I’m glad,” Logan said.

  “If anyone could navigate that craziness, it’s you,” Tate added.

  “I’m going to take that as a compliment, Mr. Mitchell,” Robbie said.

  Tate held his hands up. “That’s how it was meant.”

  Robbie laughed. “Speaking of crazy, did Priest tell you that he and Julien took me to a karaoke bar this week?”

  Logan’s mouth fell open, much the same way Robbie’s had at karaoke, and then he shook his head. “No. I can’t say that he did. And how was it?”

  “Horrible,” Robbie said automatically, and then busted out laughing. “It was so bad, but totally awesome at the same time. I loved every minute of it.”

  “Oh yeah?” Logan said, and his eyes held a knowing look.

  “Yeah…”

  “I’m glad to hear it. So basically, what you’re saying is Priest needs to keep his day job.”

  “Uh, definitely.” As the waiters began arriving at the tables, Robbie said, “You two better go and find your seats. It looks like they’re taking orders.”

  Logan looked at their invite and tapped it on his hand. “Are you sitting up in your lofty tower tonight, or down here with the peasants?”

  That was a good question. Robbie had no idea. “I’m not sure. But after that little meet-and-greet between them and my ma, I need a drink before I sit anywhere.”

  “We’ll leave you to it, then,” Tate said, and took Logan’s hand. “Let Julien know we’ll catch him later, after he’s made all his rounds. You ready?”

  “Always,” Logan said, and the two of them waved to Robbie and headed off in search of their table.

  Robbie turned around to face the bar and scanned the shelves of alcohol behind the two bartenders. As he was trying to decide what he wanted, someone moved up to take the empty spot beside him, and when Robbie glanced to see who it was, he did a double take.

  The man was taller than Robbie, by a couple of inches at least, but that wasn’t what had Robbie looking twice. Yeah, no, that would be the way the man was dressed.

  In well-worn jeans, a black shi
rt that was untucked and unbuttoned at the collar, the man was as far removed from black tie as one could be—and that was before Robbie added in the leather jacket, nose piercing, and silver rings adorning his fingers.

  Robbie tried not to openly stare at the man so out of place, and yet so casually at home in his skin, but as he leaned down to rest his elbows on the bar, Robbie found it close to impossible.

  The man angled his dark head of hair toward him, and Robbie noticed thick black lashes surrounded his chocolate-colored eyes. The stranger then ran his eyes all over Robbie, blatantly checking him out.

  “Evenin’,” the man said in a voice that reminded Robbie of cigars and whiskey. It was so smooth and relaxed that Robbie looked over his shoulder to make sure Priest and Julien didn’t think he’d actually invited this guy to come flirt with him.

  “Hi,” Robbie said, offering a quick grin to not seem totally rude, and then turned back to face the shelves behind the bar, hoping the bartender—Brian—would come over and take his order.

  “This is some turnout tonight, huh?” the man said, and Robbie nodded as his palms began to sweat, but he kept his eyes firmly glued to the back shelf. “Are you friends of the owner or a plus one?”

  Robbie was close to saying, I’m a plus two, actually, but replied, “I know Julien, yes.” Brian showed up then and Robbie said, “The same, please, hon.” As Brian went about making a lemon drop, Robbie tried for nonchalance as he said, “What about you?”

  “The same,” the stranger said. “I know Julien and his husband, Priest.”

  Robbie’s head snapped around at that little tidbit, and the man’s eyes took on a wicked glint.

  “That got your attention, didn’t it, bright eyes,” he said, and slid a little closer to Robbie to toss a bill on the bar. “You’re a pretty little thing. They sure have good taste,” the man said, and then looked over Robbie’s shoulder and smirked. “But I’m smart enough to know that if I don’t leave you here now, Priest is going to kill me.”

  Robbie glanced over his shoulder, and sure enough Priest’s eyes were locked on the man beside him.

  “Be sure to tell him I said hi.”

  Robbie opened his mouth to ask who the hell the stranger even was. But before he could get a word out, or tear his eyes away from Priest, who was now stalking through the people still milling about trying to track down their tables, the man practically vanished into thin air, making Robbie think he’d hallucinated the entire exchange.

  “Where did he go?” Priest asked.

  “Huh?”

  Priest looked to his left and right. “The man who was just here with you. Where did he go?”

  “I…I don’t know. I don’t even know who he is, I swear. He came up to me.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Priest said. “Did he say what he wanted?”

  “No. He just said he knew you and Julien.”

  Priest grunted and shook his head. “Of course he did.”

  “Why? Who is he?”

  Priest ran a hand through his hair. “That was my ex, Henri. And honestly, I have no idea why he’s here.”

  AT THIS NEW piece of information, Robbie turned to look over his shoulder again, no doubt in search of Henri, who, as usual, had vanished like a fucking ghost.

  “Don’t bother,” Priest said. “You won’t find him.”

  Robbie looked back at him, slack-jawed, and Priest could see the questions in his eyes.

  “I don’t… I didn’t— Hang on a minute,” Robbie said, and Priest couldn’t stop his smirk at Robbie’s flummoxed expression. “That was your ex-boyfriend? Seriously?”

  Priest held up a hand and flagged down Brian. “Old Fashioned for me and a Tom Collins for Julien, thanks.”

  “Got it,” Brian said.

  “Can you have it sent up to the skybox with our meals? Julien wants to eat up there tonight.”

  “Yep, I’m on it,” Brian said, and Priest turned his attention back to Robbie.

  “You might want to shut your mouth, sweetheart. It’s making me think of things I probably shouldn’t be thinking when your mother is seated in the same restaurant.”

  Robbie blushed. “Sorry, but I’m still trying to imagine you with anyone other than Julien or me, and it’s just… It’s just wrong. And him? He’s totally not your type. The leather jacket, the piercings. What the hell? I don’t like it,” Robbie said with so much attitude that it was all Priest could do not to grab his arm, haul him out to the back of the restaurant, and show Robbie exactly what this conversation was doing to him.

  “Is that right?” Priest said, and stepped in so close to Robbie that his tie brushed up against his hand. “Hmm, look at how the tables have turned. Weren’t you the one making fun of me and my jealous streak recently?”

  Robbie’s lips parted as though he were about to deny that, but he said, “Maybe.”

  “And what would you call this?” Priest leaned in, feeling more playful than usual tonight, and sniffed the air. “Smells like jealousy to me.”

  Robbie lifted his drink and tongued the tip of his straw as he arched an eyebrow. “I’m not jealous. I’m…”

  “Yes?”

  “Smart,” he said, and then added with conviction, “I’m looking out for what’s mine and Julien’s. And if that’s your ex, he can go and sniff around elsewhere. And PS, don’t try and distract me. We are so not done with this conversation.”

  Priest’s cock kicked at the possessiveness, not to mention bossiness, in Robbie’s voice. “Agreed. But let’s shelve it for now. Get your ass up to the skybox or it’s going to end up naked in front of all these culinary experts.”

  “Why, Mr. Priestley,” Robbie said, and aimed a coy look at Priest from under his lashes. “You couldn’t have told me that in the elevator where we could’ve accidentally gotten stuck? And here I thought you were the smart one.”

  As Robbie let out a carefree laugh and continued in the direction of the elevator, Priest did a final visual sweep of the restaurant, curious to see if Henri had somehow slipped back inside. There was no sign of him anywhere, though, and Priest couldn’t help but wonder what exactly Henri was doing there. His timing was interesting, that was for sure. But, not wanting Henri’s mysterious appearance to disrupt Julien’s night in any way, Priest pushed it aside for now. It wasn’t like he could track Henri down in person, even if he wanted to—that was the thing about Henri: he only showed himself if he wanted to be seen.

  As Priest followed Robbie toward the elevator, there was one set of eyes he noticed that were firmly fixed on them. But they didn’t belong to anyone who knew him well. No. They belonged to Sofia Bianchi, who was seated with the only other Bianchi who had made it tonight—Felicity—and as her gaze flitted between Priest and her son, she inclined her head ever so slowly in acknowledgment.

  Priest gave a small wave, and couldn’t help but wonder, as he disappeared down the hall with Robbie, if this was going to be the next obstacle the three of them would have to overcome.

  Time would soon tell, but for tonight, they would enjoy one another. Tomorrow would come soon enough, and there’d be all the time in the world to worry about everything and everyone else then.

  Chapter Seventeen

  CONFESSION

  Good days are few and far between.

  You should be extra greedy when they come along.

  I know I am.

  “OH DIEU…JOEL,” Julien said, as Priest added a delicious pressure to his splayed thighs, pinning them to the mattress, early Monday morning. He licked a warm, wet path up Julien’s stiff prick, and when Julien bucked up, Priest raised his head to take in the picture above.

  When his eyes found his husband’s, Priest’s lips curved at the frustration in that jade stare. “Robert?”

  Robbie, who was sitting behind Julien with his back to the headboard, cradled their man between his spread thighs as Julien lounged back against him.

  “Wrap those beautiful legs of yours over Julien’s here, would you? And hold his a
rms still. I think you and I need to distract our chef this morning. He hasn’t stopped refreshing his phone since he woke up.”

  It had been three days since the restaurant’s opening, and today was when all of the reviews would hit. To say Julien was restless would be an enormous understatement. Luckily for him, though, he had two men who were more than eager to help him pass the time.

  Robbie shifted, winding his legs over the top of Julien’s until he had them trapped, and then he wrapped his arms around Julien’s biceps and pinched his nipples.

  “Ah, putain,” Julien said, and jacked his hips forward. Priest, again, slid his tongue up along the underside of Julien’s cock.

  “Is our princess making a mess all over your back, mon cœur? I can’t imagine he’s not,” Priest said. “Especially with how incredibly sexy you look with your legs spread and your cock so hard.”

  Robbie’s eyes shifted to what Priest was describing, and then he let out a sexy whimper in Julien’s ear. “You’re so hot, Julien…damn.”

  Julien moaned again, and Priest watched as Robbie rocked his hips, rubbing what Priest knew would be a dripping cock all over their Frenchman’s back.

  Priest hummed and swirled his tongue around Julien’s tip as the men above him watched. “I agree with Robbie: you are one hot chef. The hottest I’ve ever seen. And if people could see you now—”

  “Uh, I don’t think so,” Robbie said, and pinched Julien’s nipple, making him shove his dick up toward Priest’s mouth. “No one’s seeing him like this but us.”

  Priest smirked. This was the second time in a matter of days Robbie had been assertive in his claim over them, and Priest loved it. It was clear Robbie was now one hundred percent confident in their love for him, and that couldn’t have pleased them more.

  Priest raised an eyebrow at Julien. “You hear that? Looks like your number one fan is possessive.”