Wicked Hearts (2 page)

walked slowly, casting his appraising eye over the twenty or so guys at their desks,

clustered in the free space or playing pool in the game area. When he got to the farthest

corner of the building, Hank pointed toward a desk that was partially obscured by a

silk screen. Hank moved closer. The guy didn"t look up.

“Who"s that?”

“Jeff somebody.” Reese scanned his memory for the guy"s last name. “Hartman. Jeff

Hartman.”

Not him
, Reese silently prayed. Jeff Hartman was geek extraordinaire. He"d never

said a word in Reese"s presence, except to stammer painfully when asked some

technical question by another developer. Reese had him pegged as one of those idiot

savants who could barely put two words together, but could write the code to program

a robot to do anything from building a car from the ground up to designing a telescope

for use on a space shuttle. He was the kid in junior high whose lunch money you stole.

They stepped away and Hank asked, “Straight or gay?”

“No idea. He probably doesn"t know either.”

They headed around the rest of the building, moving slowly toward the front door.

As they walked, Hank asked questions about a few of the other men, and Reese

answered them as best he could. He could still say no, he told himself, he could always

say no.

Neither spoke as they climbed into Hank"s car and Hank directed the driver to

Reese"s place. As they eased into traffic, Hank said, “I choose that geek in the corner

with the long hair. You have until Saturday. That should be plenty of time to get even

the shyest social misfit into the sack.”

Reese didn"t respond. For the first time, he considered Jeff Hartman as a potential

conquest. He supposed he wasn"t hard on the eyes, with longish dark hair and a slender

build. He dressed in old T-shirts and holey blue jeans that made him look like a college

kid. He didn"t have a clear read on Jeff"s sexual orientation, but that wouldn"t be too

hard to figure out, if he took the bet, that was.

They pulled up to Reese"s small rental house in a modest neighborhood. “So, we

have a deal?” Hank said, as Reese started to climb out.

Five thousand dollars
… “Yeah. What the hell.”

As he started to close the door, Hank called out, “Oh, and Reese?”

“Yeah?”

“Don"t fall in love.”

“No chance of that. I don"t even know what the word means.”

The sad thing was, he really didn"t.

~*~

“Damn it. Why does this thing keep crashing? Is there a memory leak?”

“Pardon me?”

Jeff jerked his head up in surprise, unaware anyone had been nearby. Reese

Armstrong stood there staring down at him, tall, tan and perfect, with white teeth

flashing in a wide, sunny smile.

“I-I-I was j-j-just…”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck
. Jeff pressed his lips together, closing his

eyes for a second and practicing his relaxation techniques.

Reese Armstrong had never spoken to him before. Until that moment, he hadn"t

realized the new salesman even knew he was alive. He"d noticed Reese, that was for

damn sure. How could he miss him, with that shock of blond hair, those broad

shoulders and the dimple in his square chin?

Reese was one of those guys who radiated energy. There was a constant air of risk

and bravado about him, as if he were always on the edge of something exciting. You

wanted to be near him, drawn in spite of yourself to his magnetism.

In the past when Reese had a technical question, he talked to Stan or Gabriel,

leaving Jeff in his quiet corner, which suited Jeff fine, thank you. But he was here now,

and Jeff needed to pull himself together, and fast. He opened his eyes, focusing on slow,

deliberate speech.

“S-sorry. This one piece of code"s been k-kicking my ass.”
Better. Slide through the

words. Slow, measured speech.

Reese looked impressed. “Man, I don"t know how you programmers do that stuff.

It"s like a secret language. I wouldn"t know where to begin. And
you
—well, you"re the

whiz kid straight out of grad school, putting the old guys to shame, so I hear.”

Jeff felt his face heat and he ducked his head, pleased in spite of himself at the cocky

salesman"s compliment, whether or not it was sincere. “Thanks,” he said softly,

resisting a sudden, crazy urge to push away the hair falling into Reese"s eyes.

“You know,” Reese said, stepping around the silk screen that partially shielded

Jeff"s desk from the rest of the space, “as sales rep, I was thinking maybe I should get a

better understanding of how the product is developed from the ground up. You know,

how you get from the specs we bring you guys to the final product that does what the

customer needs. I guess I"m saying I"d like to understand the creative process better.”

Jeff stared at Reese, tongue-tied. Reese smiled, looking deep into Jeff"s eyes as he

dropped his hand to Jeff"s shoulder. In spite of himself, Jeff"s cock stirred, which in turn

made him blush.

He resisted the urge to pull away, instead taking a deep breath and waiting. Reese

gently squeezed Jeff"s shoulder. “So I was thinking. If you had time for lunch one day,

maybe we could—”

He stopped himself, removing his hand from Jeff"s shoulder to slap his forehead in

what struck Jeff as a contrived show of having a sudden idea. “Hey, how about today?

Would you like to grab a bite? My treat, of course. You could help me understand what

you do. What do you say, Jeff? Lunch at Tony"s Bistro? One o"clock suit you?”

The way he said his name sent a ripple of erotic tension through Jeff"s body. It was

as if Reese held the word in his mouth like a kiss, stroking the sound like a caress
.
The

“no thanks” that had begun to form in Jeff"s mouth evaporated.

He knows my name. Reese Armstrong, the unapproachable and forever out of reach Reese,

knows my name.

Jeff could barely hear himself over his racing heart. “Yeah, okay. I g-guess that

would be all right.”

Reese smiled warmly. “Great! Catch ya" later.”

Jeff turned back to his computer, trying to ignore his lingering erection. He stared at

the lines of code, but all he saw was Reese"s warm smile.

~*~

“If you like seafood, the grilled swordfish with coriander lime butter is excellent.”

Years under Hank"s tutelage had taught Reese well about haute cuisine. As he spoke, he

reached across the small table, grazing Jeff"s hand as he pointed toward the item on

Jeff"s menu.

He moved his finger over the menu, again touching the other man"s hand. “The

lamb with shiraz honey sauce is a good choice.” If Jeff were straight, he"d have

definitely pulled away by now.

Jeff didn"t pull away.

Reese watched his face. Jeff was looking down at the menu, a faint flush creeping

over his cheeks. Reese bet if he could see his crotch, he"d see a bulge there. But he didn"t

need such concrete proof. Jeff was definitely interested. Forget about taking a whole

week—at this rate he"d have the guy in bed by tonight.

The waiter appeared at the table and Reese pulled back, opening his own menu.

Pad in hand, the waiter recited a litany of specials. “Do you need more time or…?”

“I"ll have the swordfish,” Reese said, “and a glass of sauvignon blanc.” He looked

toward Jeff, who was still staring hard at his menu. “Jeff?”

He looked up and Reese noticed for the first time that his eyes were gray—a clear

luminous gray, fringed with dark lashes. “Oh. Um. I"ll have a hamburger. Medium rare.

And a c-c-coke.”

Reese repressed the derisive laugh that rose in his throat. He should have saved his

money and taken this loser to McDonald"s.

After the waiter disappeared, Reese fixed Jeff with a friendly, open gaze and

flashed a dimpled smile. “I appreciate your taking the time to have lunch with me, Jeff.

I"ve been meaning to invite you since I first joined Strata, but you always look so busy

at your computer. I hated to interrupt you.”

“You have?” Jeff sounded so genuinely surprised that, in spite of himself, Reese

laughed.

“Absolutely, I have. I"m fascinated by what you do. Not to mention,” he dropped

his voice, adding a seductive note, “you"re a very good looking man.”

The guy was so easy to read it was laughable. Flattered, then confused, then

hopeful, then excited, all within the space of seconds. Perfect. He had him right where

he wanted him.

Then something Reese hadn"t expected happened. The raw ache of emotion playing

over Jeff"s face fell away, replaced by an impassive, stony expression. When he spoke

his voice was neutral, even guarded, and the nervous stutter had returned. “You

wanted to t-t-talk about programming. About the development end of the software?

Wh-what would you like to know?”

Aware he"d overplayed his hand, Reese adjusted his strategy. Leaning just close

enough to show he was interested, but not too close to threaten, he asked a series of

questions designed to put Jeff back into his comfort zone.

As Jeff began to expound on his topic, his expression eased and the stutter

vanished. By the time the food arrived, Reese actually found himself interested in what

the guy was saying. Imagine taking a series of simple and complex commands and

feeding them into a computer, and with them making an inanimate piece of machinery

come to life and execute the most complex and delicate of maneuvers. For a moment he

was almost envious of the geek"s passion for computer code.

Then he recalled the wager.

“We broke up, you know.”

“I"m s-s-sorry?”

Time to reel him in. “Me and Aidan.” Reese allowed a touch of sorrow to turn

down the corners of his mouth and a look of pain to flicker in his eyes before he looked

down at the table, recalling the fictional Aidan"s cruel treatment.

He glanced up at Jeff long enough to see the compassion in those serious eyes. “I

was with him for over a year. I thought he was the real thing. You know, a life partner.

The
one
.”

“What happened?” Jeff asked softly.

Reese drew a hand over his forehead, pushing his bangs back and letting them flop

forward again. He felt almost guilty at Jeff"s intent, caring expression. Allowing the

smallest of sighs to escape, he offered, “I don"t exactly know. I mean, one day he was in

love with me. The next he was sorry, but he"d met someone. Someone new. I never

really understood the concept of a broken heart until that happened.”

He put his hand to his chest and moved in for the kill. “I guess it"s true what they

say. That time heals all wounds. It"s been four months. Life goes on. Next time I"m

gonna be more careful. I don"t want a player. I don"t want a guy who"s been around and

done it all. I want to meet someone real. Someone honest and kind. Someone

like…you.”

Reese caressed Jeff"s face with his eyes for a few seconds and then bit his lip,

looking down. He was listening for the small, sharp intake of breath. He was waiting to

feel Jeff"s hand slip timidly over his own, to hear his surprised but grateful

encouragement of the shiny, new seduction Reese was offering him.

Instead he heard Jeff"s chair scrape back as the other man stood. He looked up in

surprise. “Thanks for the m-m-meal.” Jeff gripped the back of the chair for a moment,

pressing his lips together and closing his eyes. Maybe he was going to suggest they

meet later. But when he opened his eyes, all he said was, “I have to go now.”

Reese watched in stunned surprise as Jeff Hartman walked away.

Reese’s lips were insistent against his, his large, strong hands roaming over Jeff’s body. “I

want someone sincere. Someone honest and kind. Someone like…you.” Reese moved lower,

kneeling in front of Jeff, cradling his balls while he lowered his hot mouth over Jeff’s cock. “I’ve

wanted this for so long, Jeff. For so long…”

Jeff caught sight of himself in the full length mirror attached to the door of his small

bedroom. He was sitting naked on his bed, his cock trapped in his left hand. His dark,

straight hair fell over his eyes and he needed to shave.

He closed his eyes, letting Reese"s image slip back behind his lids. He guessed

Reese to be in his late twenties. He had the sculpted look of someone who worked out.

When he"d touched Jeff"s hand while pointing to something on the menu, Jeff had

nearly jumped out of his skin, barely containing a ridiculous impulse to bend down and

lick Reese"s knuckles.

Though he knew it was lust, pure and simple, that hadn"t stopped him from

wanting to press his lips against Reese"s throat, to feel the sexy blond stubble with his

tongue. He had wanted to run his fingers over Reese"s skin, to feel the beat of his heart,

that heart Reese claimed had been broken. Who in their right mind would leave Reese