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?”

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 speak 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.”