Wicked Hearts (10 page)

he couldn"t get Jeff out of his head.

He hadn"t watched the video clip with Hank, afraid his face would give away his

feelings. He"d never hear the end of it if he admitted to Hank that the night had turned

into something more than a conquest.

Instead he"d visited in the kitchen with Julio, who was making Hank"s favorite,

chocolate mousse. Hank came into the room a few minutes later, a scowl on his face.

“Congratulations,” he said dryly. He waved the envelope toward Reese, who moved

forward to take it. The term
blood money
whispered through his mind, though it didn"t

stop him from pocketing the cash.

“You did it. You deflowered the nerd. Tell me, were you gentle? Did he cry?” Reese

didn"t join in the raucous laughter that followed. He glanced at Julio, embarrassed, but

Julio was busy whipping cream, acting as if he hadn"t heard a word.

“Make us more margaritas and a plate of nachos,” Hank instructed Julio. “We"ll be

on the deck.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Julio replied, already reaching for fresh limes.

The first couple of drinks only served to make Reese want to talk about Jeff. Several

times he nearly confided in the one man he shouldn"t about his strange feelings for the

guy. He almost mentioned how unusual those silver gray eyes were, and how smart Jeff

was on the computer. He almost gave away that no one, certainly not Hank, not even in

the beginning, had affected him the way Jeff had.

By the fourth drink, however, Reese had imbibed enough tequila to sufficiently

numb his tongue and blur his thoughts. He let Hank convince him to stay the night,

aware he was in no condition to ride his bike back to his own place. But the thought of

sex with Hank, after the amazing night spent with Jeff, turned him off completely. He"d

pretended to be even drunker than he was, feigning sleep to avoid it.

Reese opened his car window, enjoying the breeze, Jeff"s wide, serious eyes and

strong naked body in his mind. Though he"d only just left him, he had to admit he

couldn"t wait to see him again! He felt like a kid with a new toy he couldn"t wait to get

home to. He wished he had someone he could tell. He couldn"t remember the last time

there had been someone in his life he liked enough or was excited enough about to

want someone else to witness.

Surely there was someone he could call, just to say, “Hey, I met someone.” He

racked his brains as he drove. As he ran through the list of men he knew, he realized

there wasn"t one who was really a friend. He"d had sex with them all, but he never

shared anything beyond his body. He wasn"t even sure he knew how to, when it came

down to it. He could talk a good game, but did he have what it took to keep a guy like

Jeff interested in him?

He was keenly aware of the irony of this train of thought. Hank would laugh him to

Buffalo and back for caring in the slightest if Jeff was interested in more than his cock.

He himself wouldn"t have thought it could matter.

But it did.

Don’t let me fuck this up. Not this time
, Reese whispered, not sure who he was

entreating.

~*~

Monday evening Jeff looked around the small living room, frowning with

dissatisfaction. Until now, he hadn"t cared that his bookshelves were little more than

planks set on cinderblocks, or that his secondhand sofa was worn and faded with age.

The place had just been somewhere to crash when he left work.

What a recluse he"d become since fleeing Boston and starting this new life. He"d

gone out a few times with some of the people from the office and the occasional guy

from a bar, and he"d entertained his parents when they"d come for a visit, but none of it

at his place.

Though Denver had taken some getting used to after a lifetime in Massachusetts, he

enjoyed the freedom of being away from his family. No one here knew him. He could

reinvent himself, and that suited him.

He had grown up in a small town about forty miles west of Boston. Speech had

come late and was always difficult for him, but made infinitely worse by his brothers"

taunting. His most painful early memories revolved around their casual bullying. His

parents rarely stepped in to protect him, believing boys should learn to fend for

themselves.

One of his brothers" favorite pastimes was to mimic him until he cried. “What is it,

J-j-j-j-eff? Come on, sp-p-p-it it out. C-c-c-c-at got your t-t-t-tongue?” They would

dissolve in paroxysms of laughter, never tiring of making him the butt of their jokes.

Speech therapy in school helped dramatically and in fact once he hit his teens, he

rarely stuttered except when anxious or overtired. By doubling up his courses, he

graduated high school a year early and took off for Boston, with a substantial

scholarship. There he fell into the welcoming arms of M.I.T., where, for the first time in

his life, he felt at home, or at least among people of like mind.

Back then he never would have considered Reese Armstrong. He hung with other

geeks, guys who were more turned on by brains than brawn. He didn"t even know if

Reese had been to college, and he found he really didn"t care. The powerful attraction

between them superseded things like education and background. The language they

shared needed no words.

Tom had you fooled too,
the voice of caution whispered in his head. Not only Tom,

there had been other guys who had turned out to be, if not players, certainly less than

what Jeff had hoped. The fault had to lie partly with himself. He knew he had a

tendency to build men up his head, assigning them with better qualities than they

actually possessed. Was he doing it again?

God, he hoped not.

When Reese had asked if he was busy that night, Jeff suggested he come by for

dinner, thinking at the time this would give him the advantage. He"d be in his own

space, the one in control. If one thing led to the next, and he fervently hoped it would,

he could invite Reese to stay the night. If Reese refused, well, at least he"d know where

he stood.

Now he wondered what he had been thinking. His full-size bed had a sagging

mattress that rested on a rickety frame. His bathroom was so small it barely housed the

toilet and shower stall crammed into it. He"d cleaned up the old newspapers,

magazines and pizza boxes, changed the sheets, and scoured the bathroom and kitchen,

but there wasn"t much else he could do, save run out and buy all new furniture.

At least the meal would be good. He had everything he needed for the one thing he

made really well—lasagna with Italian sausage. It was baking in the oven, the smell of

tomato sauce and melting cheese permeating the small apartment. The garlic bread was

on a tray on the stove, ready to be toasted at the last minute, and the salad was chilling

in the refrigerator.

With a sudden inspiration, he rummaged through the old china cabinet where he

kept an extra set of dishes and other stuff he didn"t know what to do with, and finally

found the white linen tablecloth his Aunt Sarah had foisted on him when he"d

graduated. It was still in its original wrapper.

He spread the cloth over the small kitchen table, folding it in half so it wouldn"t be

quite so obvious that it was made for a much larger table. He thought about

candlesticks, which he didn"t own anyway, and decided they"d be going overboard. In

fact, maybe the tablecloth was too much. The guy would think he was about to propose

or something.

Jeff whisked the cloth off the table and tried unsuccessfully to fold it back neatly

enough to return to its wrapper. Abandoning that, he shoved it into the bottom drawer

of the cabinet.

“I"ll just open the wine,” he said aloud. “Let it breathe, as they say.” He had no idea

what that even meant, but it would be an excuse to have a glass and steady his nerves.

He glanced at his watch. It was quarter to six. Reese had said he"d be there between six-

thirty and seven, depending when he got back from the clients in Colorado Springs.

Jeff decided to take a shower. He lingered over his cock as he soaped his body,

remembering Reese"s touch. He thought about masturbating, but decided against it,

wanting to stay primed for what he hoped the evening held in store.

He set the table and poured himself a second glass of wine. Six-forty-five. Any

second now the doorbell would ring. Reese would be there with a smile on his

handsome face.

Whatever happened, Jeff would be cool. No sweating palms, no stuttering, no

telltale erection bulging in his jeans. He would take his time getting to the door. Let the

guy cool his heels a little—Jeff was no overeager teenager. Calmly, he would smile and

step back, waving his guest inside.

“So glad you could come,” he said aloud in a British accent. “Please make yourself

at home. Just ignore this place. My mansion is at the shop.” Grinning at himself, Jeff

flopped onto the old couch and turned on the TV. He didn"t hear a word of the

newscast, his thoughts turned inward as he relived their one, perfect night together.

Was he falling in love? Was that even possible in so short a time? Could he really be

falling for Reese Armstrong, or was he just lost in the throes of a wild infatuation? Was

it Reese, or his own dreams he clung to, assigning them to Reese because he was handy?

Just because Reese"s smile tugged at Jeff"s insides and left his heart pounding, that

didn"t mean he was in love.

At three minutes to seven, the doorbell rang. Jeff nearly spilled his wine in his

haste, all thoughts of being cool deleted from his mind as he raced to the door, unable

to stop the wide smile that spread over his face.

Reese was in all black—from his silk long-sleeved T-shirt that molded against his

broad chest like a second skin to his black denim jeans to the square-toed black leather

boots on his feet.

Jeff was so busy staring at him that he forgot to invite Reese in. Apparently no

invitation was necessary. Reese cocked one eyebrow and smiled a slow, seductive

smile. Stepping inside, he kicked the door shut and reached for Jeff, taking his face into

his hands.

He kissed Jeff hard—no gentle experimentation, no hesitation. He forced Jeff"s

mouth open with his tongue, penetrating it with hot, sensual thrusts. Without letting up

for a second, he maneuvered Jeff, backing him against the door.

His mouth still covering Jeff"s, Reese pressed his body against Jeff"s, forcing his legs

apart. Jeff"s cock rose hard against Reese"s muscular thigh and he moaned against

Reese"s lips. When Reese finally let him go, Jeff sagged against the door, barely able to

catch his breath.

Reese grinned at him. “Sorry. I"ve been waiting all day to do that. In fact,” he leaned

in close again, drawing a line along Jeff"s lips with his tongue, “I think I need to do it

again.”

This time as he kissed Jeff"s mouth, his hands found Jeff"s fly, which he unzipped.

Without asking, he jerked Jeff"s jeans down his hips, dragging his underwear along

with it. Jeff would have been embarrassed if he weren"t so aroused.

As it was, when Reese let him go, only to kneel before him and take his throbbing

cock between his lips, Jeff groaned his intense appreciation. Using both hands, Reese

encircled the base of Jeff"s cock, bringing his fingers together beneath Jeff"s balls and

forcing his cock out straight as an arrow.

He lowered his mouth over the shaft, not stopping until he"d taken it to the balls.

The pressure caused by his fingers, coupled with the hot, wet suck of his lips and

tongue, drove Jeff nearly out of his mind.

Jeff"s legs threatened to buckle with pleasure. He gripped Reese"s head, his fingers

twisting in the silky blond hair as he tried to stay upright. “Jesus,” he managed to gasp.

“You"re killing me.”

Reese didn"t answer. His mouth still enveloping Jeff"s cock, he jerked Jeff"s jeans

farther down his legs and slipped a hand between them. When Jeff felt Reese"s finger

sliding between his ass cheeks, instinctively he tried to twist away. But Reese held him

fast, one firm hand on his hip as the other explored his tiny hole, pressing a finger

inside.

Jeff couldn"t resist pressing against the digit, forcing it deeper while Reese

continued to suck and stroke his cock with silky hot kisses. Jeff had imagined an

intimate dinner and maybe a walk afterwards, with a slow lead-in to seduction. His

mind still hadn"t caught up to what Reese was doing to him, but his body was reacting

full force.

He felt the clutch of a climax grip him. „Ah, god, Reese, oh…” He jerked hard,

slamming his cock down Reese"s throat. Reese didn"t miss a beat, his finger still

swirling inside Jeff as he sucked every drop of cum from Jeff"s balls.