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“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.”
