FRIDAY AND SATURDAY flew by in a blur. Usually, Robbie loved working weekends at The Popped Cherry, but he had to admit there was somewhere else he’d rather be tonight—a somewhere he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since he’d left it Friday morning.

The place was nice and steady for a Sunday night, which was great since it was a new thing Tate had implemented as of this year. Bianca was out working the floors with Tim while Robbie and Alec looked after the bar, and for the past two days, Robbie had done nothing but think about, dream about, and procrastinate about the two men who’d swooped into his life Wednesday, and somehow infiltrated every single thought in his head since.

Julien and Priest.

Priest and Julien.

No matter what he was doing or who he was talking to, he found himself thinking about the next time he was going to see them—and he was going to see them. There was no doubt about that.

God, he was driving himself insane checking his phone every five seconds, hoping to see a missed call or text from them. But he knew there wouldn’t be one. Julien’s words when he’d dropped him home were a clear message that they would be waiting for Robbie to make the next move.

“Remember what Priest said, princesse. Next time you come around, we keep you. So be sure.”

He pulled his cell out to check again, just in case, and still…nothing. Ugh. This is just ridiculous. Text them already. You know you want to.

After his little pep talk with himself, Robbie said to Bianca, “I’m gonna go take my break. You got the bar?”

“Yep,” she said, as she walked over to him, flipped up the pass, and then headed his way. “Everything okay?”

Robbie stopped and looked back at her with a grin. “Yeah. Why?”

“You’ve just been a bit distracted the last couple of days.”

Now that’s the understatement of the century. And wasn’t that what Priest had said? “You distract me.” Yeah, well, shoe was on the other foot now, wasn’t it?

“I’m great,” Robbie said, and gave her a wink. “Don’t you worry about me.”

“Okay, as long as you’re sure?”

Robbie walked back toward the door and said, “Oh, you know how it is waiting for a man to call.” Or in his case, men. Double the anxiety right there.

“Ahh, now it all makes sense. The faraway expression. The dopey smile.”

“I don’t have a dopey smile.”

“You totally have a dopey smile,” Bianca said as she wiped down the back counter. “But it’s good. You’ve been kind of down in the dumps since finding out about Logan and Tate’s wedding.”

Robbie froze with his hand on the door. Shit, he’d totally forgotten about that. Ironic, really, since that was what had sent him into the arms of Julien and Priest in the first place. Jesus. He needed to call Elliot and talk about this stat, or he was going to lose his mind.

Bianca looked over her shoulder at a couple heading to the bar, and then turned back to him. “Enjoy your break. See you soon.”

Robbie waved and then pushed through the door and headed out to the break room. Once inside, he took a seat on the couch and stared at his phone. Still no messages, and as he opened his voicemail on the off chance he’d missed one, he saw the message that had been left by Tate on New Year’s Eve.

He wasn’t sure why he’d kept it. There was nothing important about it. But as he sat back in the couch, Robbie hit play and brought it up to his ear.

“Hey, Robbie, sorry to leave this as a voicemail, but I’m guessing the bar is jam-packed tonight, so this will have to do,” Tate said. “I’m just calling to let you know that, well, Logan and I got married tonight.”

Tate’s words got caught up in a joyful laugh, and Robbie shut his eyes, remembering how shocked he’d been the first time he’d heard the message. Cartoon arrows, straight in the heart. Thunk thunk thunk.

“It’s crazy, I know,” Tate continued. “I surprised him. But we’re not going to be around for a while, since I’m stealing Logan away to an island—”

“Yes, but don’t think that means you can misbehave, young man,” Logan, Robbie’s longtime crush, said into the phone. “We have cameras installed there, you know.”

“Ignore him. He’s had a little too much champagne.” Tate chuckled. “Anyway, Cole is going to stop by to check in with you and make sure everything is going okay. So don’t worry about anything and have a great New Year’s, Robbie. We’ll see you soon.”

As the message ended, Robbie brought his phone down and stared at it, and was stunned to discover that this time around, the words didn’t cut as deep. They didn’t hurt as badly as they had a week ago. Shit, was that really only a week ago? Yeah, it was. And as he sat there, he made a decision.

Robbie reached out and swiped the phone to delete the message, and once it was gone, he scrolled through his contacts to Elliot’s number and wrote, We need to talk, ASAP. Next, he found Julien’s number and opened up a text.

He wasn’t going to sit around and pine after the unobtainable anymore. Not when there were two very available, very intriguing, super-hot men interested in him. He’d spent the better part of last year getting over an asshole who didn’t appreciate who he was, and this year was going to be about fun.

It was going to be about rediscovering who he was, and if he were honest, he’d never felt more himself than he had over the past week, and that had everything to do with Julien and—God help him—Priest.

What was it Priest had said? “We don’t want to change you to suit us. We want you because of who you already are.” And Robbie knew he wasn’t lying. Hell, that was Priest’s golden rule, to always tell the truth, and around them, Robbie never felt the need to censor his words or be anything other than himself. They were just as out there, in their own ways, as he was, and maybe that was what he needed. Something a little…unorthodox.

Robbie’s fingers flew across the keyboard on his phone, and when he read the words back to himself, he smirked and hit send.

Robbie: So, you two aren’t into, like, whips or anything, are you?

Not two seconds later, he got a response.

Julien: Princesse, we were hoping we’d hear from you. One minute.

Robbie felt a bead of sweat pop out on his forehead as he waited, and yeah, he kept his eyes on the little clock in the corner of the phone. Two minutes passed, and then a group thread popped up with Julien and Unknown.

Unknown: Robert, aren’t you at work?

Robbie rolled his eyes, opened the contact, and added Priest’s name.

Robbie: Yes, DAD. I’m on break.

Priest: Watch yourself. Nothing I’m thinking about you is fatherly. Although I keep thinking a spanking might do you good.

Robbie grinned, and a shiver of anticipation raced up his spine from wondering how that would feel. He kicked off his shoes and crossed his legs on the couch.

Robbie: Geez, stop thinking about my ass for two seconds, Priest. Talk about a one-track mind. I have questions for you.

Julien’s text popped up next, and Robbie wondered if they were sitting at the condo right now eating dinner, and suddenly found himself wishing he was there with them.

Julien: Ask us anything, and we’ll answer.

Robbie: Whips, canes, nipple clamps… Stuff that hurts. I’m not into that.

Priest: Neither are we.

Robbie: But you like control. Both of you do. You said you want to control me—tell me what to do. How do I know you won’t tell me to do something that hurts?

Julien: Because you just told us you don’t want to, and we aren’t into S&M.

Priest: We are into D&S. Dominance & submission.

Robbie’s cock kicked at the words on his screen, and he reached down to massage it.

Robbie: Explain. So I can read it later tonight, and totally get off thinking about it.

Priest: Meaning, we want to tell you what to do and we want you to WANT to do it. Like the other night at the restaurant. Another example, if that’s what you’re after, would be me telling you to get on your hands and knees, and then ordering Julien to fuck you while I watch.

Oh shit. Robbie shut his eyes and rested his head back on the couch, remembering how hot it had been to follow Priest’s orders. Swallowing back the moan that wanted to slip free, Robbie refocused on his phone.

Robbie: This is just in the bedroom, right? The control thing?

Priest: If that’s what you want. Of course, if things change, we can certainly discuss that later.

Robbie bit down on his lip. What does he mean by that?

Julien: We would never do anything to harm you. And any time you want to stop, you say the word, and it stops.

Robbie had no trouble believing that. These two men were not the type to force someone. But there was still one question he really wanted answered.

Robbie: How do I know who to listen to if you’re both there?

Julien: I think you already know that answer.

Priest. Hands down it was Priest. Robbie couldn’t imagine anyone telling him what to do. He was about to write something along those lines when his phone lit up.

Priest: While Julien loves to be a top dog most of the time, I like to be the master at ALL times.

Robbie squeezed his dick through his black slacks and knew if he didn’t end this little back-and-forth and soon, he was going to come right there in the break room.

Robbie: When can I come and see you?

And they both wrote back, Be sure.

Robbie stared at the words, but he knew what he wanted, and for once in his life, he’d never been more certain of anything.

Robbie: I am. Are you two?

Not even a second later: Yes.

Then Julien was typing. When is your next night off?

Robbie: Tomorrow.

Priest & Julien: Then tomorrow.

Robbie caught his breath as he waited for whatever was going to be said next, and then Priest sent: I’ll pick you up on my way home from work. Be ready at six.

There was that authority that made Robbie’s spine stiffen and his cock come to full attention. He gulped and nodded, and when he realized Priest couldn’t actually see him, he wrote back a lame-ass Okay, then looked at the clock on the wall and typed: I have to go and eat before break is up.

Julien: Okay, princesse. We look forward to tomorrow night.

Priest: We had been waiting on you.

For some reason, those words were more powerful than any of the ones that had come before, because they had been waiting for him—for Robbie Bianchi—and tomorrow night, they would have him.

* * *

JULIEN WANDERED INTO their bedroom after cleaning up the kitchen, and found Priest sitting in bed with his laptop open and files strewn all over the mattress.

“So,” he said, as Priest looked up from the computer, “he reached out.”

As Priest moved the papers out of the way, Julien climbed onto the mattress and settled down on his side. He propped his head up on his hand and watched as Priest’s fingers moved across the keyboard.

“Yes,” Priest said. “I wasn’t sure we’d hear from him so soon.”

“Non? I had an inkling. He was in a good mood when I dropped him off the other day. I think you cleared up a few questions for him that morning, among other things.”

Priest’s fingers stopped as he turned his head and looked down at Julien. “Hmm. I suppose I thought he might change his mind after everything settled in with him and he remembered who he’d actually been with.”

Julien chuckled as his eyes roved over Priest’s handsome but pensive face. “I think if anything, his mind is set more now than ever after everything has settled in.”

“Good.” Priest reached for one of the files. “He needs to be sure, because you and I, we come with a lot of—”

“Force?” Julien said, then laughed as he rolled to his back and slipped his hands under his head. But as he stared at the ceiling, he sobered. “Baggage? I know, mon amour. But doesn’t everyone?”

“Some more so than others. You and I?” Priest said. “You and I have loads of baggage.”

“Joel?” Julien said, and turned his head on the pillow. “One thing at a time, okay? Let’s not overwhelm him before he has a second meal with us.”

Priest’s somber eyes met his, and then he leaned down and kissed Julien’s lips. “Oui. Okay. But you know me.”

“I do. You want to control every little thing.”

“The big things, too, when they let me.”

“Mmm.” Julien brought a hand out from behind his head and threaded his fingers through the back of Priest’s hair as he flicked his tongue over Priest’s lower lip and then inside, deepening the kiss.

Priest groaned and his eyes slid shut, as he angled his head and tasted Julien with a rapacious tongue. Julien lifted his head off the pillow, wanting to get closer, but at the last second, Priest pulled back and panted against his mouth.

“Julien, if you keep kissing me like that…”

Julien nipped at Priest’s lip, and then he let go and lay back down on the bed with a smirk. “The princesse is right. You are a control freak.”

Priest arched an eyebrow but moved away, clearly recognizing his own limits. “That’s it, up,” Priest said. “Get out of this bed so I can finish my work.”

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Julien said, as he moved up to his knees and kissed Priest’s ear, and when he turned his head and his warm breath ghosted over Julien’s mouth, a wicked slant curved Priest’s lips.

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I rolled you over and took—”

“Do I look like a glutton for punishment to you?”

“No,” Priest said. “Right now, you look like someone I want to fuck desperately. The same as you do every minute of every day.”

Julien’s ass clenched at the thought, but he knew his limits too, and taking Priest on when he was like this was a hard one. “I would let you have me if you weren’t practically vibrating. But since you are, there’s no way you or your cock are coming anywhere near my ass. I wouldn’t be able to sit for a week.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but chefs stand at work, don’t they? I’m not seeing the problem.” Priest’s eyes lowered to Julien’s lips. “If you’re not going to be of use to me, get out of our bed, Julien, and leave me alone.”

“That’s rude,” Julien said, even as he climbed off the bed and walked to the bedroom door. “But really, I think we should keep that,” he said, aiming his eyes at the very obvious erection in Priest’s sweats, “for the one I have a feeling is going to love every single inch of it.”

Priest smirked and pointed to the door, and as Julien walked through it, he turned and took another look at the man who’d gone back to his work. They may come with a lot of baggage, but what was inside had always been worth the heavy burden of carrying it.