“ROBERT ANTONIO BIANCHI, if your skinny behind is not sitting at my kitchen table in the next ten minutes, I’m feeding your lunch to Michelangelo!”

As his nonna’s voice drifted into annoyed Italian mutterings, Robbie reached for the phone he’d dumped on his bedside table and cracked an eye open to look at the time. When his eyes cleared and he saw it was about to hit noon, he jackknifed up as though someone had pinched him on the ass.

Shit, he’d slept for nearly ten hours? He must’ve been more exhausted than he thought—not that that was a surprise. He hadn’t gotten home until two in the morning after a three-day shift.

“Robert! I won’t tell you again.”

“I’m up. I’m up. Rilassati,” Robbie said, as he got to his feet and ran a hand through his hair, and then he followed the mouth-watering scent coming from the kitchen.

As he made his way down the narrow hall, he found his nonna standing at the gas stove scooping a mountain of freshly cooked pasta onto a plate. Robbie came up behind her and peered over her shoulder to see her famous spaghetti alle vongole simmering in a pan, and then he kissed her on the cheek.

“Oooh, yum. I must’ve been a good boy. That’s my favorite,” Robbie said as he took a seat at the small wooden table off the main kitchen. “Are you spoiling me, vecchietta, or is Vanessa home for lunch too?”

“No, she has that job interview today. I hope she gets it. Those night shifts worry me. But this, this is for you. Not that you deserve it. Who do you think you’re calling old, young man?”

Robbie winked at her as he crossed one of his legs over the other and twirled a long strand of his hair around his finger. “Only the prettiest lady in the room, of course.”

Nonna looked over her shoulder and arched a dark eyebrow, and as always, Robbie was struck by her flawless skin, even at seventy-five. “I believe that would be you in that getup. Let me guess, Felicity?”

Robbie looked down at the red velvet onesie his sister had given him for Christmas, grinned, and took hold of the drawstrings on either side of the hood. “She knows me best. She even got one with two balls on it,” Robbie said, as he flicked the white pompoms at the end of each string.

Nonna shook her head, and as she walked over with a stacked plate, Robbie noticed her arms shaking a little before she set it down in front of him. “There’s so much food on this plate I can barely carry it. Mangia. You’re all skin and bones.”

“I do eat,” Robbie said as he picked up the block of Parmesan and the grater. “I just take after Mom, you know that.”

“She needs to eat more too,” Nonna said, and winced at the cheese Robbie was grating over her pasta, something she viewed about as favorably as she would him committing a felony. “But what you need is a man to look after you. Someone who’ll fatten you up.”

Robbie rolled his eyes at the familiar argument that always surrounded him whenever he was with any of his female relatives—which was practically all of them—and then wondered what his nonna would think if he told her he’d just agreed to date a world-renowned chef—and a lawyer.

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Robbie said, “I don’t need a man.” Which was true. He didn’t. But he sure did want two in particular.

She put a plate down for herself and pulled a chair out. “You may not need one,” she said as she settled in on her seat, her breathing a little more labored from her exertions in the kitchen. “But it would be nice to have. You work hard. You deserve someone to look after you. We all do. Someone to spoil us.”

“Well, now, I’d never say no to being spoiled. You know better than that,” Robbie said, and stabbed his fork in the center of his noodles and started to twirl. “But just because I want someone doesn’t mean they’re going to just magically appear and everything is going to be rainbows and unicorns. Trust me, I’ve tried wishing at fountains, on coins, when I blew out my…twenty or so candles last year. It’s not that easy.”

Nonna tsked him as she started to twirl a fork in her own noodles. “That might be so. But tell me, Robert, do you think I’m blind? And think before you answer that.”

At her sudden no-nonsense tone, Robbie had a vision of Priest and found it incredibly odd that he had such a dramatically different response to him being all authoritative. Thank God for that.

“No, I don’t. Why?”

“Because I have seen a black SUV drop you off twice now.”

As she waited for him to explain that, Robbie shoveled another fork of food in his mouth to buy himself some time.

“I also saw the driver of that car kiss you on the cheek. He was very handsome.”

Oh God. Italian grandmothers—they’re worse than the paparazzi.

“Is he your new boyfriend?”

Umm… “I don’t know.” There, that was kind of the truth.

“What do you mean you don’t know? If he’s dropping you off in the early hours of the morning, I should hope he means more to you than a casual—”

“What did we talk about when I moved in here, Nonna?” Robbie interrupted.

“I know. I know. You’re a healthy young man who is allowed to date. I understand that. But this is twice in a row now, and, well…I was wondering if maybe it was that nice man you told me about at Thanksgiving? You know, the fellow who cooks?”

Robbie paused with his fork midway to his mouth, stunned right down to his socked feet, because never in a million years would he have expected his nonna to remember a five-minute conversation back from— But then the penny dropped. Oh, he was going to kill Felicity.

“All right, when did she call you?” Robbie asked, knowing it wouldn’t have taken more than an innocent Do you know if Robert is seeing anyone? from their grandmother for Felicity to volunteer as much as she knew that wouldn’t give the old lady a heart attack. Apparently, Felicity had deemed “the fellow who cooked” the better option than the man Robbie had once said he would happily go to jail for murdering.

Nonna raised her fork to her mouth and took a bite of her food, her eyes wide. The only thing that would’ve made her little charade similar to his own who, me? I’m innocent act would’ve been if she batted her lashes at him.

“Don’t try and act all innocent with me, vecchietta. It might’ve taken me a few seconds to wake up, but I’m wide awake now. When did Felicity call?”

Nonna chewed her pasta, swallowed it, and said, “She didn’t.”

“Bugiarda,” Robbie said, and shoved back from the table to go and grab the house phone. “Your nose will grow if you keep that up. That’s what you used to tell me.”

“And aren’t you glad you listened? Your nose is cute as a button.”

Robbie touched the tip of his nose, and then pointed the phone at Nonna. “Don’t try and sidetrack me with compliments. You know it will work.”

“I’m not. It is cute.”

When Robbie sat back down and dialed, Nonna sighed and lowered her fork to the plate.

“Okay. It was yesterday,” she said, and Robbie hung up. “She was calling to check on her dear old nonna and also asked how her brother was.”

“That’s interesting, considering I only talked to her a few days ago.”

“Oh. Really? Then I don’t know what she was up to.”

“Mhmm. I don’t believe you for a second. I think you two were gossiping, as usual. But this food was amazing, so I guess you’re forgiven.” Robbie took his plate to the sink, then kissed Nonna on the cheek. “I’m going out tonight, but I’ll be back sometime tomorrow to get ready for work. Do you need anything today before I go?”

“If you go to the store, some milk and eggs would be a great help. But only if you’re going.”

Robbie winked. “I’m going to try and meet up with Elliot for coffee in a couple of hours, so I’ll be sure to get you some.”

“You’re a doll, Robbie. Someday, some lucky man—”

“Will sweep me off my feet and throw me in his bed, if I’m lucky.”

Nonna shooed him away and Robbie headed off down the hall, and when he got to his room, he grabbed his phone and scrolled through to Elliot’s number. When he found it, he hit call.

“Bitch, where the hell have you been?” Elliot answered.

Robbie grinned—he could hear the hustle and bustle of the salon Elliot worked at—and when he said, “Taking five,” Robbie twirled one of the white pompoms around his finger and waited. Not two seconds later, Elliot was back.

“If you tell me that Julien Thornton held you hostage and used his prick on you for several days, I’m gonna be both proud and hate your guts all at once, because I can multitask like that.”

Robbie started to laugh like a loon. God, he needed that. He also needed to meet up with Elliot and finally tell someone who would truly appreciate his predicament.

“Uhh, why you laughing, Bianchi? I’m serious. Where the fuck have you been? And please know that the only reason I didn’t send out a search party is because you texted me back the other night and Tommy saw you at work.”

“Let me know when you’re done with your jealous rant, because I have more that you can add to it.”

“He fucked you, didn’t he? Oh my God. Was he amazing? What am I saying—of course he was.”

“No, he didn’t fuck me. But I will say he tastes as good as his cooking does.”

“You lucky little fucker.”

“I know,” Robbie said. “Have coffee with me this afternoon. We’ll trade stories.”

“Well mine doesn’t involve sucking off a celebrity, buuut…if you’re buying, I’ll be there.”

“What time, cheap-ass?”

“Umm, four. Does that work?”

Robbie winced. If Priest was picking him up at six, he wanted time to come home and primp for the night ahead. “Can we make it three?”

“What? You got a better offer to— Wait. Are you seeing him again?” Elliot’s voice was so high by the end of that sentence that Robbie was shocked cats from all over the city didn’t flock to him.

“I am. So—”

“Three o’clock. Your skinny ass better be here ready to talk. Don’t you dare bail on me, Bianchi, or I’ll track you down.”

Robbie laughed. “I’ll be the cute one with a satisfied glow about him.”

“Fucking show-off.”

“Aww, go cry about it.”

“I just might.”

“See you at three, El.”

“See you then, Bianchi.”

Robbie ended the call with a smile so wide that he was pretty sure his cheeks might start to ache if he didn’t get it under control. He was feeling particularly good about himself and where he was headed tonight, and when he looked down at the pajamas Felicity had given him for Christmas, Robbie smirked and jumped to his feet.

He moved across his room so the dark wooden door was at his back, and then raised his phone up and flipped the camera so he was on screen. He posed and clicked off several sexed-up shots, and then went over to the bed and scrolled through them. When he found one that he thought best described his mood, he opened the group thread with Julien and Priest, added it, and hit send. Then he settled back in his bed and waited for a response.

* * *

PRIEST WAS SEATED at one end of the conference table for Mitchell & Madison’s weekly meeting as Cole, one of his partners at the law firm, ran through several of the cases they needed the associates to pick up this week in Logan’s absence. They were just winding up now, and as Cole handed the final file to Angela, one of the family law attorneys, Priest’s phone vibrated on top of the conference table.

He picked it up, and as he sat back in his seat, he looked down to see it was a text message from Robbie. He heard Cole telling everyone they were done if no one had anything else to say, and as they all started to file out, Priest opened the message to see what it said.

Was Robbie cancelling tonight? Priest hoped that wasn’t the case. He was looking forward to—

As he opened the text message, an image loaded in the group thread, and what appeared made it blatantly obvious that Robbie was not calling to cancel.

Priest’s hand tightened around the phone as he looked at the teasing little flirt in the photo staring back at him. Robbie was wearing some kind of sexy red…jumpsuit? And had unzipped it midway down his chest. He’d brought one of the drawstrings at the collar up to his mouth, in a sexy pout that dragged his full bottom lip down, and hanging from the end of it was a white, fluffy ball that should’ve made him look ridiculous, but made Priest’s cock hard as a fucking rock.

Robbie looked good enough to eat, as he aimed his eyes up at the camera giving his best come get me look.

Priest quickly typed: Bring that outfit tonight. I want to suck that ball.

Not a second later, Julien was typing, and Priest wondered if his husband was as hard as he was right then. He got his answer when Julien’s message came through.

Julien: And I want to watch.

Robbie: LOL. If you’re nice to me, I might let you.

Priest’s lips twitched at the sassy response, and he could actually hear Robbie’s voice clear as day in his mind.

Priest: And if we’re not nice?

Robbie started typing, and the message that came through made Priest laugh.

Robbie: Then I’d definitely let you. Haven’t you heard? I have a thing for assholes and pricks.

“Priest?” Cole’s voice snapped him to attention, and Priest realized Cole was standing at the other end of the table staring at him. The room was now empty except for them.

“Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you got the memo that you can move your things up to your office this week? Don’t worry about the furniture—we have movers bringing in the new desks and bookcases tomorrow. But anything personal.”

Priest nodded, thinking of his diplomas on the floor leaning up against the wall where he’d left them for the past few months. They were the only personal items he really had. “Will do,” he said, short and succinct, as always.

Cole frowned and looked at the phone Priest was still holding, likely wondering what had made him laugh, but there was no way Priest was about to tell him. Cole and Logan knew Robbie well, and despite Cole having kept his nose out of what went down at the Christmas party, Priest wasn’t about to divulge what was going on here. No way.

“Maybe one of us should steal Logan’s office while he’s away,” Cole said, a glint to his eye. “What’s he going to do? Kick us out?”

Priest shook his head and held a hand up. “I’ll leave that to you. You’re his brother. He can’t kill you.”

“True. But even still, he might try.” Cole waved and then headed to the door. “Good luck in court today.”

“Thanks. I just have a few preliminaries this afternoon. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do” was the last thing he heard as Cole walked out the door, and when Priest glanced back down at his phone, it was to see three more images, each sexier than the last, of Robbie in different states of undress. And Julien, that instigator, knew the fire he was stoking: Unzip it the entire way. Mmm. Now, put your hand inside the pants.

Priest’s jaw clenched, and after he typed his final message and hit send, he shoved a hand down under the table and pressed it against his hard-on, thankful they hadn’t yet moved to the conference room upstairs, which was made entirely out of glass.

He only had a few more hours to wait until finally he would be able to take care of this, and the other two men in the thread now knew exactly where his head was at.

* * *

PRIEST: MY COCK needs to fuck someone tonight. You can toss a coin to decide who that is. The way I see it, you’re both asking for it.

Julien touched his tongue to his top lip, as he sat back in one of the booths at his restaurant and twirled a pencil between his fingers. Tonight was going to be intense in all the best ways possible, and after Robbie’s little tease, he could only imagine how Priest was feeling.

Julien: I’ll give the princesse head. Excusez-moi…heads.

Robbie: Okay, I don’t know about you two. But I have a sudden need to get naked.

Julien felt the same, but knew Priest wouldn’t be having any of that, and oui, there he was.

Priest: Don’t you dare come until my hand, or Julien’s mouth, is around your cock, Robert. You started this, and WE are going to finish it.

There was a bit of a pause, and Julien would’ve loved to see Robbie’s reaction to that, and then the little minx wrote back.

Robbie: Would you like hourly updates on the status of my frustration, SIR?

Priest: Would you like your first spanking when I see you at six, Robert?

Julien reached for the glass of wine sitting on the table in front of him and swirled it around, letting it breathe.

Robbie: No. I’d prefer you do something else to my ass tonight instead.

Priest: Then behave yourself and be ready at six.

That was as good as a goodbye for Priest, and Robbie seemed to understand, because he sent a kiss emoji that made Julien chuckle.

As he signed off and put his phone down on the table, Lise, the manager of JULIEN, walked up to the booth with a notepad in one hand and a phone jammed between her shoulder and ear.

When she reached the table, Julien heard her say, “I understand this is a rush, Danielle, but we can’t open if we don’t have uniforms for the staff. I need them on the date we agreed upon.”

She put the pad down on the table, and as she did, she pushed a piece of her black hair behind her ear and then took a seat opposite Julien. “Good. Thank you. I’m glad we got that sorted. We’ll talk soon. Bye.”

After she hung up, Lise rolled her eyes and put her phone down. “Today is not my day. But I’m glad we get to do some taste testing.”

Julien looked at the bottle of wine on the table, as she reached for it and poured herself a glass. He’d known Lise for several years now. She’d been the manager at his L.A. location, and when he and Priest had agreed to relocate and Julien had decided to open up a Chicago restaurant, he’d known he wanted her on as manager. The only thing he hadn’t been positive on was whether Lise would want to leave a life of year-round sunshine to live where the temperature was currently cold enough to freeze a witch’s tit. Luckily, she was as crazy as they were.

“You know, I think I need to take up this meditation/yoga stuff you swear by. It’s the only reason you can possibly be this calm all the time,” she said, bringing her glass up to her ruby-red lips. “Well, that and your handsome husband.”

Julien studied her as he took another sip of his wine. If truth be told, he was far from calm today. With the restaurant inching closer to its opening date and the end of January creeping up on them, he had a lot on his mind.

This month was always hard on him. It brought back memories he’d rather drown out with an entire case of wine, not merely a glass. But that wasn’t his way to cope anymore. It hadn’t been for years now. And tonight he had something else that was going to take his mind off the demons that plagued him. Robbie really couldn’t have called at a better time.

“Now, now, don’t be jealous,” he said, and placed his glass back on the table. “Green doesn’t suit you.”

“Mhmm. Well, since he’s on my mind now, how is the Priest?”

Julien thought about their exchange just now with Robbie and ran his fingers around the base of his glass. “We’re both a little frustrated right now.”

“Oh, holding out on him again, are we?”

“Oui. We’ve been waiting on someone to make une décision.”

Lise wasn’t a stranger to their way of life. Having known them for as long as she had, she was well aware that their marriage was not the most conventional of sorts. She also knew the meaning of being discreet, which Julien found essential when it came to keeping his private life and public persona separate.

“Oh, there’s a new someone on the scene? Do tell me more.”

“Gossip,” Julien said, then finished off his wine and pointed to the notepad. “Write the name of this one down. I like it.”

“Got it.”

“Good. Is there anything else pressing right now, or…?”

“Only about a million things,” she said. “But that can wait. I need to taste this wine and I want to hear more about the one who has the both of you waiting on him. That’s unheard of.”

* * *

“I’M SORRY, BUT I’m going to need you to repeat what you just said, because it sounded like ‘I think I’m dating two men.’”

Robbie sat across from Elliot in one of the booths of The Daily Grind and shushed him. “Jesus, say it louder, why don’t you?”

“Bitch, please. If I were you, I’d be twirling around like Julie Andrews on a mountaintop right now telling the whole world.”

Robbie laughed. He could actually picture that.

“Okay, so, two men.” Elliot held up two fingers just to make sure they both agreed on the correct number. “One, I’m assuming, is the Prick, because your luck seems disgustingly good right now.”

Robbie grinned, picked up the new Dreamweaver latte he was trying—hazelnut and white mocha; it was delicious—and nodded.

“Fuck you for that,” Elliot said, and popped a piece of his choc-chip muffin in his mouth. “And I have no idea who the other person is. I mean, no… Did he bring along a celebrity friend? If you tell me you’re banging two famous people right now, I’m getting up and leaving you here with the bill.”

Robbie rolled his eyes. “I’m paying anyway, loser. And no, that’s not it.”

Robbie thought about how to say this next part out loud because, well, he hadn’t exactly been shy in his dislike for the third man in this whole equation.

“Then who is it?”

Robbie put his drink down and looked around as though what he was about to say was a state secret, and then leaned across the table. “It’s Priest. Joel Priestley.”

“Joel Priestley? As in the asshole who has less personality than a robot?”

Uhh… “Yes?”

“You cagey little shit,” Elliot said. “Hate fucking? Oh my God. A celebrity, and hot hate fucking? Let me guess, the Prick is there to make sure you two don’t kill each other? Yep, it’s official. You win this month. I can’t compete with that.”

“Actually,” Robbie said, as he shifted in his seat, the ache between his legs not helped by the description Elliot had just provided, “Julien is there because they’re, um, well, they’re married.”

Elliot’s hand stopped midway to his open mouth with a piece of muffin. Then he blinked once, twice, and a third time. “I’m sorry, come again?”

Robbie laughed and batted his lashes. “Actually, I’m not allowed to come at all until tonight. Priest’s rules.”

“They’re married? Oh my God.”

“I know,” Robbie said. “I keep thinking I must be crazy for doing this, right? But—”

“Hey, focus,” Elliot said, and snapped his fingers in front of Robbie. “Did they invite you in?”

Robbie nodded.

“And does it seem weird or awkward?”

“No, not at all. I mean, we haven’t had actual sex yet. But what we’ve done, it seemed…it seemed really natural. Is that weird?”

“No.” Elliot shook his head and slumped back in his seat. “I told you. Your luck is going the way of the gods, my friend. You really should go buy a lottery ticket. Buy a lottery ticket and enjoy the pleasure of two men fucking your brains out. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

Robbie nodded and raised his drink to his lips to take another sip. He agreed with Elliot. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, and he was, so far, enjoying the hell out of himself—and he deserved that, damn it.

He also had the fleeting thought that he didn’t need a lottery ticket, because he felt like he’d won the jackpot already.