by Ella Frank
Robbie swallowed, his eyes doing a quick sweep of the space, no doubt searching out Julien, but then he nodded. “You may. But don’t get too handsy back there.”
Priest gave him a questioning look and then urged Robbie in the direction he wanted him to go. “And what constitutes too handsy?”
Robbie’s feet faltered at the question, and Priest took hold of his arm to steady him.
“Is this too much, would you say?”
As Robbie looked down to where Priest’s hand lay on his arm and bit on his lip—something he did when he was nervous—the sight of his teeth pressing into that soft flesh made Priest want to be the one biting him. Instead, he waited, sensing that as brave as Robbie was trying to be, there was a skittish air to him tonight. Which told Priest that if they moved too fast, Robbie would bolt, and that would be the end of that.
“No,” Robbie said. “I just meant keep it above the waist.”
Priest lowered his eyes to the lone cream button at the waistband of Robbie’s pants. “I can do that.”
Robbie let out a breathless little laugh. “You’re trying to throw me off my game, right?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re being nice, and polite, and for you, that seems like a game.”
Priest regarded Robbie closely and then began to walk again, and Robbie did the same.
“I don’t play games. In fact, neither of us do,” Priest said, as they rounded the dividing wall and stepped into the Lounge, an intimate space with wood-paneled walls, comfortable sofas, low chairs, and a more muted glow that offered a relaxed ambiance for lovers and secret rendezvous. “Julien and I are one hundred percent transparent with anyone we plan to take to our bed.”
Robbie raised his chin, in that telltale sign of courage, and said, “And is that where you plan to take me?”
Priest brought his hand around from his back and tapped that pointy chin. “Some of the times.”
“Some of the—? There’ll be more than one time?”
“We hope so.”
Robbie sucked in a breath and swallowed. “And what about the other times?”
Priest smiled. “I’d hoped you would be like this. Julien said that you were.”
“Like what?”
“Curious. You’re very curious, and I like that. But,” Priest said, and glanced over Robbie’s shoulder, “we’ll talk more about that in a minute. I believe our chef for the evening would like your attention.”
At the mention of Julien, Robbie turned around, and when both of them faced the owner of the building they were standing in, Priest leaned down and whispered in Robbie’s ear, “That expression on his face means that he wants you to come.”
Robbie’s head whipped to the left to face Priest, and it wasn’t lost on Priest that their lips were the closest they’d ever been. It wasn’t lost on Robbie either, judging by the pink shade now flushing his cheeks.
“You better move. Julien’s somewhat temperamental about who comes in his restaurant and when. Don’t want to let this opportunity pass you by.”
MON DIEU… ROBBIE looked good enough to eat as he stood in front of Priest in an outfit that made Julien think of the sweet cotton candy he used to get at the local fair.
With his hair sweeping off to the side, and his face devoid of all makeup but the natural blush staining his cheeks from whatever Priest had just said, Robbie looked young, fresh, and so fucking sweet that Julien’s teeth ached almost as much as his stiffening dick.
As Robbie and Priest made their way toward him, Julien couldn’t help but note the way his husband was checking out the man between the two of them. Priest’s eyes were on Robbie’s ass, and Julien could only imagine what was going through Priest’s head.
“Bonsoir. You look gorgeous tonight. I see you found my new slice of paradise,” Julien said as he stepped forward to greet Robbie with a kiss to both cheeks. “I hope Priest behaved himself just now.”
When Julien took a step back, Robbie glanced at the silent man beside him. “Surprisingly, he did.”
“Good. Otherwise I’d have to punish him, and it’s much more fun when Priest’s the one doing that.” When Robbie’s eyes widened a fraction, Julien laughed. “Don’t look so worried—he’s really very sweet, deep down inside. The fun part is getting in there and finding it.”
“Thank you, Julien. For such high praise,” Priest said, and the slight tilt to his lips had Julien grinning.
“You’re welcome. I haven’t even started listing your most favorable qualities, mon amour.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Priest said in a tone that suggested otherwise, making Robbie grin.
“Can I take your coat for you?” Julien asked, gesturing to the bright garment around Robbie’s shoulders.
“Oh, yeah,” Robbie said, and took it off. “This place is like something out of a movie. It’s so fancy.”
Julien draped the soft fabric over his arm and nodded as he looked around the restaurant. “Thank you. It’s almost ready for opening.”
“When’s that?” Robbie asked.
“Valentine’s Day. So the middle of next month,” Priest answered.
Robbie looked around again and laughed softly as he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I just can’t believe I’m standing in one of your restaurants. Julien Thornton’s restaurant. That’s, like, wow—not gonna lie.”
Julien chuckled. “Well, I’m hoping you’ll do more than just stand in it, princesse.” Robbie’s cheeks turned crimson, and Julien really started to laugh then. “Wherever did your mind just go?”
“Nowhere,” Robbie said, and then looked over at Priest, who was watching the exchange with guarded eyes.
“I told you,” Priest said to Julien. “That’s something we’ll have to work on.”
Robbie screwed his nose up. “What is?”
“Your habit of lying.”
“I don’t lie.”
“No?” Priest said.
“No.”
“Then what were you just thinking that made your face turn the same shade as your coat?”
Robbie’s mouth opened and shut several times, until Julien decided to step in and save the poor man. “Joel, why don’t you go to our table, and Robbie and I will join you shortly.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Priest asked.
“Oui, I am.” Julien then kissed Priest on the cheek to soften the blow.
“Fair enough. I’ll see you both soon.”
Julien inclined his head, and as Priest disappeared around the corner and out of sight, Robbie let out a breath.
“Are you all right?” Julien asked.
“Yeah, he’s just…” Robbie tugged at the neck of his sweater. “Is he always like that?”
“Yes. He is.” Julien regarded Robbie closely. “Would you like a drink?”
“God yes.”
“Okay, then. Let’s go and get you a drink, and we’ll talk.”
ROBBIE COULDN’T STOP his eyes from hungrily roving over Julien as he weaved them through the tables of the main dining area. He was wearing a pair of white linen pants that sat low on his hips, and a V-neck tee that was tight, black, and outlined every muscle to perfection.
Robbie watched the shift of his shoulder blades as he walked, the trim waist, his spectacular ass, and just…wow. Julien should’ve looked out of place dressed as he was in the opulent setting. But he didn’t. He looked comfortable, at home, and so fucking sexy that Robbie was having a difficult time walking.
As they made their way over to the bar area, Robbie felt as though he’d stepped back in time. This space of the restaurant had an old European charm about it. It was understated and classic, and brought to mind jazz and cultured people sitting about sipping their cocktails. Actually, when he thought about it, it was the perfect blend of the two men he was eating dinner with tonight.
Julien, the sexy, smooth European-American whose smile and charm made Robbie want to do whatever he asked. And Priest, the clas
sic/cultured suit whose serious vibe was starting to turn Robbie on as opposed to irritate the shit out of him.
The two together made Robbie’s entire body feel as though it were connected to an electrical socket, and he was close to positive he’d sell his soul to experience the shock of it, even though he was aware he was playing with something incredibly dangerous. Something he knew he shouldn’t touch.
Julien stepped around the bar and indicated that Robbie should take a seat. So he moved one of the barstools, sat down, and then looked across the counter to the three brightly lit archways where shelves of alcohol were fully stocked and ready to serve.
“And what would you like to drink tonight?” Julien said, his eyes twinkling as he added, “A French Whore, perhaps?”
As Robbie’s words from last night floated in the air between them, he decided it was time to relax. Priest had definitely rattled him a little at first, but it was time to loosen up and be himself—and holding back was so not his style.
Hooking his feet on the rung of the stool, Robbie leaned over the counter and aimed his eyes at Julien’s mouth. “I’d definitely like to taste something French.”
Julien chuckled, and the sound was low and provocative as it wrapped itself around Robbie and went straight to his cock. Then Julien put his hands on the counter and leaned in until his lips were only inches from Robbie’s. “You’re a naughty boy, aren’t you, Mr. Bianchi.”
Breathe, Robbie thought, and willed himself not to hyperventilate. But that wasn’t so easy when he was this close to Julien’s mouth. “You asked me what I wanted.”
“And you want something…French in your mouth?”
“Yes, please,” Robbie answered eagerly, and Julien laughed, a wicked, sexy sound that made Robbie squirm on his seat.
“Have you ever had anything French before?”
“A kiss. Want to give me another?” Robbie said, batting his lashes.
“Oh, I want to kiss you, princesse. And if you’re a good boy, I just might.”
“I can be good. God,” Robbie said before he could stop himself. “You’re so fucking hot.”
The smile that curved Julien’s full lips was sex, but on, like, steroids.
“Merci.”
“And that? Fuck me.” Robbie lowered a hand down to press it against his erection. His breathing now more like panting. “That just makes you even hotter.”
Julien took hold of Robbie’s chin and said, “Good. I’ll be sure to speak French whenever I want your cock hard.”
That will never be a problem around you, Robbie thought, as Julien let him go.
“So, what would you like to drink?”
“Huh?” Robbie said, his brain still conjuring up images of French kissing and hard cocks.
“I asked what you’d like to drink.”
“Oh.” Robbie’s eyes went to the shelves of liquor as he tried to think about something other than the ache between his legs. And when he finally had himself under some kind of control, he looked back to Julien and said, “How about Sex on My Face?”
Julien reached for a glass and put it on the counter, and then grabbed a bottle of Malibu and whiskey. “You’re a shameless flirt.”
“As if you’re not. Plus, Priest told me not to lie.”
“That he did,” Julien said, and began to mix the drink.
Robbie watched his every move. Those long fingers, tight around the cocktail shaker. The muscles under his tight black tee, and those lips Robbie wanted to feel on every part of his body? Yeah, he was watching those too.
There was a reason Julien had become the celebrity he had beyond his cooking abilities. It was the overall package. French. Gorgeous. Flirtatious. Add in the fact he could cook like a boss, and both men and women had fallen in love with the temperamental chef.
Julien was sex personified with those full lips and harsh features, until he smiled and that dimple snuck out to play. And right now, he was pushing a drink across to Robbie with a smirk that promised he was in for one hell of a night.
As Robbie picked up his glass, Julien raised the one he’d made for himself, and then lifted his eyes up and over Robbie’s shoulder.
It wasn’t until Robbie turned around to see where Julien was looking that he noticed an upper level of sorts. It wasn’t a balcony. It wasn’t an open floor space. More a room with a view, and standing in that room, watching the two of them, was Priest. He had a glass of wine in his hand and a pensive look on his face, and when he crooked a finger at Robbie, Robbie’s cock got impossibly harder.
“May tonight bring many more opportunities for…sex on your face,” Julien said, and Robbie let out an inelegant snort and grinned as he raised his glass to his lips, because there was no way he wasn’t going to drink to that.
Chapter Eight
CONFESSION
No one ever says they want to have a smart sexual experience. No.
They want a hot, wild, oh-my-God-there-goes-my-brain sexual experience. That’s the only excuse I have for any of this—I’ve lost my mind.
AFTER PRIEST HAD left the other two in the Lounge, he had headed up to the skybox of JULIEN with his laptop and a bottle of Pinot, ready to sit and watch as Julien and Robbie became better acquainted with one another.
The perfect vantage point, the skybox had been the brainchild of Julien when they’d looked over the building. It was a private dining area on the upper level that seated up to four guests in the glass-encased space, and it offered a bird’s-eye view of the kitchen, the bar, and the main dining room.
It had originally been designed with the idea that this would be an exclusive table for guests wanting to come and see Julien in action down there in his domain. But at the last minute, Julien had made an executive decision: the skybox was to be theirs, a private table where the two of them could share a meal at any time, or where Priest could come and work at night if he chose to.
Not a bad deal at all. The top table, in what he knew would soon be one of the most talked about restaurants in the country? It didn’t get better than that—except, of course, when the owner and executive chef joined him, and perhaps brought something extra sweet along with.
Priest took a sip from his glass of wine and watched as Robbie pushed up off his barstool and leaned across the counter toward Julien, and he felt his cock react when his husband moved in until his lips almost touched Robbie’s. The two of them loved this dance, the will-he-or-won’t-he of it all, and Julien was such a good partner. No matter who he was dancing with.
The men down below exchanged conversation. A smile here. A laugh there. And then Priest saw one of Robbie’s hands move under the bar to press up against what Priest could only imagine was an erection as hard as the one he had.
That’s right, Priest thought, get used to it. Because being aroused around Julien was a natural state.
Julien knew exactly how to tease a person until they would do anything to be touched, kissed, or fucked, and Priest knew that he had Robbie at that point. Actually, Robbie looked as though he were a second away from climbing over the bar and scaling Julien like a tree—and Julien wouldn’t mind, not one little bit. As long as he knew Priest’s eyes were on him, and they most definitely were.
Priest got to his feet, wine in hand, and walked over to the window. He wanted to see more, to get closer to what was going on, and when he reached the spot that overlooked the bar, he braced a hand on the wall where the privacy curtains hung and took a sip of his wine.
Down below, Julien poured the drinks he’d just mixed, pushed one across the bar to Robbie, and then raised his eyes to finally meet Priest’s. Julien had known that he was there all along, of course, but when an arrogant smile crossed Julien’s mouth, Robbie finally clued in and turned.
As the princess’s eyes found Priest’s, there was no outrage there. No shock. If anything, Robbie looked intrigued. He raised his drink to his lips and took another sip, and Priest let his eyes wander down to the very prominent erection in Robbie’s pants and thought gotcha
, before he removed his hand from the wall and crooked a finger at the sassy young man in pink.
Julien said something then, because Robbie chuckled and then grinned, but he never took his eyes from Priest’s. Time’s up, Robert Bianchi. Now let’s see where this is all going to go. Shall we?
“WHAT’S UP THERE?” Robbie said, as Priest disappeared out of sight.
“Our table,” Julien said as he came around the counter and ushered Robbie out of the bar area and down a narrow hall. “It’s a private area for Priest and myself whenever we want it. And tonight, you.”
Robbie’s heart jackhammered as he followed Julien past a large set of double doors, with a square glass window in each giving a peek at the restaurant’s state-of-the-art kitchen. “Is that where we’re going now?”
“It’s where you’re going,” Julien said, as they stopped in front of what looked like a door with the same intricate molding that decorated the main dining room.
“Me?” Robbie said, as Julien pressed a button on the wall. The door slid open, revealing an elevator. Julien put a hand up to hold it in place, and then nodded at the same time Robbie shook his head.
There was no way he was going to voluntarily put himself in Priest’s presence alone. Not after that look he’d just given him or that silent summons with the crook of a finger. And hello, with the way Robbie’s body was all primed and ready for sex, Priest was the last person he needed to be near. He wanted Julien there. Needed him there. “I can wait with you,” Robbie suggested.
“I know,” Julien said. “But there’s no need. I’ll be up in just a minute. And Priest’s waiting.”
Yeah, okay, that doesn’t make me want to get in the elevator.
When Robbie tried for a smile, Julien laughed. “Can I tell you something, princesse?” he said, as Robbie tightened his fingers around the glass in his hand.
“Okay.”
“You hold the power here.”
Uh, Robbie seriously doubted that. “Sure I do.”
“You do.” Julien gestured to the elevator with a tilt of his head, and Robbie took a deep breath and stepped inside. “We want you,” Julien said, and ran his eyes down to the erection Robbie had no hope of getting rid of. “He wants you. And he’s working really hard to get you. How often do you think someone like Priest does that?”
