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“It’ll matter very much when we have you naked between us.” For once, Robbie said nothing as Julien slipped off his stool and took a step closer to him. “Do you want that? To be naked and in between Priest and myself?”
A shaky breath left Robbie’s lips, and then he turned to look out across the dance floor, and Julien knew he was searching out Priest. He did also, and when they both zeroed in on the third person in this little triangle forming, Robbie said quietly, “I shouldn’t.”
“Why?” Julien asked, as he watched his husband take a sip of what he knew would be a club soda.
“Him…” Robbie whispered, and then he broke the connection, seemingly stunned by his own admission as he looked back at Julien. Then, in the blink of an eye, all of the attitude and sass was back. “I don’t like him. And I know he doesn’t like me.”
Julien shook his head. “You’re wrong. But I understand your concern.” And he did—Priest was a lot to wrap one’s head around. “Still want that drink?”
Robbie nodded and stood so they were facing one another, and even though Julien had known Robbie was tall, it still surprised him that he was now eye level with the young man.
“I’ll have a French Whore, thanks,” Robbie said with an impish grin, and when Julien’s eyebrow arched, Robbie laughed. “No offense. It was either that or a Ginger Crush, and I’m not drunk enough to even pretend I want one of those.”
It wasn’t often that Julien was at a loss for words, but as he stood there staring at Robbie, he found himself utterly…enchanted.
“So, while you buy me a drink, I need to find El.” Julien frowned, and Robbie rolled his eyes. “How dumb do you think I am? I’m not going home with two strangers, especially when one is Mr. Grumpy, without telling my friend first.”
“So you’re going to come, then?”
“I don’t know,” Robbie said, and pursed his lips. “I guess that depends on if you’re as good as you say you are.”
“You’re a cheeky one.”
Robbie batted his lashes. “Yes. I am.”
“Hmm. It all makes a little more sense now.”
“What does?”
“The way you rile him up.”
Robbie smirked. “It’s not my fault he’s such a stuffed shirt.”
“Oh, Priest is no stuffed shirt. But you’ll find that out soon enough.”
The teasing light in Robbie’s eyes vanished at Julien’s words, and a cautious one appeared. It was clear he was weighing the words he’d just heard, and Julien wished he could read his mind.
“I need to talk to El and tell him where I’m going,” Robbie said as he backed away toward the crowd. “That’s the rule. You leave or hook up with someone, you phone a friend.”
“Do this often, do you?”
“If I said yes, would you be jealous?”
Julien was about to deny it, but said, “Oui, I believe we would be.”
“Good,” Robbie said, and the light that re-entered his eyes was pure delight as he spun on his toes and went off in search of his friend Elliot.
Chapter Four
CONFESSION
Anyone who doesn’t love Starship scares me.
I’M DOING THIS. I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m fucking doing this, Robbie thought. But as he weaved his way through the dancers on the floor, his mission was clear: find Elliot.
He could feel Julien’s eyes on his ass as he went, so Robbie made sure to add an extra swing to his hips, and every now and then, when people shifted a certain way, the lights flashed up and he caught sight of Priest standing where he’d been since entering the club. His eyes fastened on Robbie like some sort of tractor beam.
God, it was a rush to be caught in the middle of them. It was a place Robbie knew he’d enjoy a whole damn lot if he could get rid of the niggling voice in the back of his head, and the final drink should help with that. Not to mention give him the extra dose of courage he needed for the sheet-gripping sex he knew these two would deliver.
From the moment Priest had picked up the phone tonight, Robbie had been hard, and when Julien had flat-out told him that they wanted him—Robbie Bianchi—naked in between them? Forget it. No gay man alive could resist that offer. Priest might be an insufferable ass, but his mere presence made all kinds of fantasies run riot. Oh, and he came with one hot-as-fuck husband.
As the music switched to a beat with a pulsating throb, the vibe on the floor changed and couples began to bump and grind against one another, as though the flimsy scraps of material most of them wore weren’t there at all.
Robbie spotted Elliot draped all over a buffed-up blond in faded jeans and a black tank, and he tapped his friend on the shoulder to get his attention. Elliot held his finger up to his partner and looked over his shoulder at Robbie with a stunned expression, clearly not expecting his friend to have strayed from the bar.
