Wicked Hearts (9 page)

“What is?”

“This whole betting thing. You know, it"s kind of sleazy when you think about it.”

Hank stared at Reese for a few seconds, his expression blank. Then he began to

laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me? Isn"t it a little late for these kind of touchy-feely

sentiments?” He made a show of looking under Reese"s chair and behind him. “Where"s

the real Reese Armstrong, and who the hell are you?”

“Shut up, Hank.” Reese looked away.

“A bet"s a bet.” Hank"s voice was soft and dangerous. “Did you fuck him or not?

Did you record it or not? If you did, what"s the big deal? Let"s watch it together. You

can give me a blow by blow.” Hank sniggered and Reese hated him at that moment.

“You"re afraid, that"s it. You haven"t got the balls to admit you didn"t make the

grade. Maybe the great seducer of men has finally lost his touch? Who would have

thought one lone geek could hold out against the great Reese Armstrong?”

Goaded beyond toleration by Hank"s obnoxious taunting, Reese stood and pulled

the memory stick from his pocket, tossing it on the table beside Hank. “There"s your

proof.”

Hank picked it up, turning it over and over in his hands, as if examining a precious

jewel. He looked up at Reese, squinting into the sunlight. “You delicious bastard,” he

said with a crocodile"s smile. “You had me fooled.” He laughed, the sound loud but

hollow in Reese"s ears. “I should have known. No one escapes your net, not when you

put your mind, and your cock, to it.” He laughed again. Reese did not laugh with him.

Hank stood, fingering the memory stick. “Let"s go and watch it. We"ll use the big

screen.”

“No,” Reese said sharply, wishing he"d never come. If only he could rewind the last

few minutes. He should have lied. He should have said he hadn"t succeeded. Fuck the

money. Who gave a shit what Hank thought?

Hank regarded him with half veiled eyes. “Fine,” he said, “I"ll watch it alone. When

I see your dick up that geek"s ass, you"ll get your money.”

“Hank. I"ve changed my mind. I don"t want—”

“Oh, no you don"t. A bet"s a bet.” Pocketing the money envelope, Hank

disappeared into the house. With a sigh, Reese followed him, trying and failing to

ignore the sickening feeling that he"d just made the biggest mistake of his life.

Monday morning managed to arrive at last and there Jeff sat in his space at Strata,

trying to pretend he wasn"t waiting for Reese to appear. What a dumb move, to get

involved with someone he worked with. How awkward if and when things didn"t work

out. And for all he knew, their brief affair had already reached its end.

Somehow Jeff had made it through the rest of the weekend. At least ten times, he

nearly made the call, practicing in his head what he would say.

Hey, I was just thinking of you. Thought I’d call and say hi. Want to go out for a beer or

something?

I was waiting for your call. Why didn’t you call?

Hey, thanks for the incredibly hot sex. Want to do it again?

Hi, Reese. It’s Jeff. You know, the geek you fucked last night. Oh, you don’t remember?

Hi Reese. Sorry I left so early. I had to meet one of my many other lovers. I’m sure you

understand.

He checked his phone obsessively, making sure it was fully charged, the ringer on.

No missed calls. No messages. What was the protocol in this kind of thing? Who should

call first? Was Reese waiting for his call? Was he, too, wishing and wondering when Jeff

would get in touch?

Yeah, right. Jeff"s initial instinct had been right. Reese was nothing more than a one-

night-stand kind of guy. Jeff was probably no more than a memory by now, the only

trace of his existence a used condom in the trashcan.

How would Reese behave when they saw each other in the office? How would Jeff

react? He"d be damned if he let Reese see it mattered. Shit, the guy was probably doing

him a favor. Who needed the complication of getting involved with someone at work?

All at once Jeff"s ears pricked to the sound of Reese"s deep, rich voice. He was in the

office! Nerves started creeping over him like little insects and he reached for his Dr.

Pepper, taking a gulp to steady himself.

He forced himself to focus on his monitor, trying to lose himself in his work. A

tricky bit of code actually drew him in, and he was able to pry the fingers of his

obsession with Reese loose enough from his brain to allow him to focus.

“Hey.”

Jeff jumped at the sound of Reese"s voice. He looked up to see Reese"s handsome

face over the top of the silk screen that gave Jeff some privacy from the rest of the office.

“Hey,” he replied, his heart suddenly clutching in his chest.

“Is this a good time? You look really busy. I could come back—”

“No!” Jeff cut him off, aware of the blush creeping up his cheeks. “I mean, it"s a

good time. Perfect, in fact. I was just thinking of taking a break.”

“Cool.” Reese moved around the screen, settling into the chair in front of Jeff"s desk.

Leaning forward, he spoke in a quiet voice. “Did you have a good rest of the weekend?”

“Sure,” Jeff lied. “I had a lot of stuff to do.”

Reese nodded. “Yeah, I figured, when you left so early and all…”

For the first time it occurred to Jeff maybe Reese hadn"t wanted him to leave. Had

he spent a similar kind of day, worrying and wondering where they went from here?

Jeff almost laughed out loud at the preposterousness of that thought. Like Reese

Armstrong ever worried about a thing.

“Hey, wanna grab a coffee or something?”

“Sure.” Jeff"s heart did a crazy flip flop and he realized he was grinning. Forcing his

face into neutral, he pushed back from his desk and stood. Reese stood as well. Jeff was

dressed in a black T-shirt that said 1+1=10 in white, and his usual faded jeans and black

Converse sneakers. Reese was wearing a starched yellow shirt with pale blue stripes

and dark blue trousers, his jacket slung casually over one shoulder. He looked like

something out of a GQ magazine, posing for the camera, a smoldering look in his eye.

Jeff was aware they were being observed as they walked together through the

building. How long before their relationship became the stuff of office gossip? The idea

wasn"t altogether displeasing, but at the same time it was a little disconcerting.

They walked to a small diner a block over from Strata Systems. Once they settled

into a booth, Reese grabbed one of the huge, plastic-coated ring binders that served as a

menu. “Have you had breakfast? I"m starving.” He rubbed his face with his hands and

ran his fingers through his hair. Offering a sheepish grin, he said, “I wasn"t exactly

hungry when I woke up this morning. I had too much to drink last night. I like tequila,

but it doesn"t like me all that much, not the next morning, anyway.”

Jeff was silent as he absorbed this unwelcome information. His mind immediately

went to whom Reese had been drinking with, and what they"d done afterward.

Mentally he shook his head, refusing to go there.

Unaware anything was amiss, Reese smiled brightly at him. “They make this great

French toast with blueberries. I"m gonna get some. How about you?”

“Just coffee for me, thanks,” Jeff said. The waitress came over, filling their mugs.

Jeff watched her eyeing Reese surreptitiously, though Reese, still scanning the menu,

seemed oblivious. Once she took the order and left, Reese began to make small talk

about Strata"s latest clients and products.

While Reese talked, Jeff tried not to stare at the hollow of his throat, remembering

his scent and the taste of his skin. He tried not to recall moving his mouth and hands

over Reese"s bared body, or taking his rigid, silk and steel shaft between his lips. He

almost succeeding in blotting out the salty-sweet taste of Reese"s cum.

He kept waiting for Reese to say something, anything, that would indicate he

remembered they"d actually made love and spent a night together, but Reese kept his

banter superficial. Had it meant nothing to this man? Was Jeff now supposed to forget it

had ever happened?

Unable to control himself a second longer, Jeff burst out, “So what the hell

happened between us, Reese?”

“Huh?” Reese looked nonplussed.

“Saturday. Or have you already forgotten?” Reese"s expression darkened, though

with anger or pain, Jeff couldn"t tell. He wished he could grab the words and stuff them

back into his mouth. Damn, he"d promised himself he wouldn"t do this. Cool, calm and

collected, not demanding explanations or promises of something more.

“I haven"t forgotten,” Reese said softly. “You"re the one who left.”

“You didn"t ask me to stay,” Jeff retorted with more force than he meant to.

Reese lifted one eyebrow, his grin sardonic. “Did you want me to? Was that just a

ploy then, saying you had work to do? Maybe you want to send me the script in

advance next time, so I know my lines?”

Flames licked Jeff"s face and he lifted his coffee mug to hide it.
Next time.
Did that

mean there"d be a next time? Had he misread Reese yet again? Was he ever going to

figure out what really lay beneath that confident, cool exterior? “No, that"s not what I

m-m-meant.”
Fuck.
Jeff closed his eyes, taking in a slow, deep breath.

He felt Reese"s hand slip over his, his touch firm and cool. He opened his eyes to

find Reese"s gaze fixed on him. “Relax. I was just teasing you. Look, I had a great time

with you. When I woke up and you were standing there saying you had to go, I wasn"t

gonna force you to stay. That"s not my style.”

The waitress arrived and Reese pulled his hand away and sat back. She set down a

large platter heaped with thick slices of French toast sprinkled with powdered sugar,

plump purple blueberries on top. She set a smaller plate piled with crisp bacon beside

it.

Jeff watched as Reese put butter and syrup on the French toast and then cut a large

bite. The bagel Jeff had had four hours before was pretty much history, as far as his

stomach was concerned, but he"d been too edgy to think of eating when they first sat

down. Now his mouth was watering. He took a sip of his coffee, wondering if he should

order something.

“I"m never going to eat all this,” Reese said suddenly, as if reading his mind.

“Would you mind taking some? We can use this butter dish.” He dumped the packets

of butter into the bowl that held tiny cups of cream for the coffee. Without waiting for

Jeff"s response, he slid a slice of the French toast onto the plate along with two pieces of

the bacon.

Pushing the plate across the table toward Jeff, Reese grinned and shrugged. “Sorry.

I can"t stand to waste anything.”

“Actually, that looked so good, I was thinking of ordering some myself.”

They smiled at one another for a beat and then another. The tightness that had been

in Jeff"s chest since he"d left Reese Saturday morning eased, at least a little. His heart

picked up its pace, his cock stirring, the French toast forgotten.

“So,” Reese said. “You busy tonight?”

~*~

After the impromptu breakfast, Reese left Jeff at the office to make his round of

calls. He drove along I-25, his mind in a fog. “What the fuck are you doing,

Armstrong?” he said aloud. “You violated rule number one of the Armstrong code of

relationships.” Rule number one was never to be the one to make initial contact after the

first time having sex. He"d not only made initial contact, he"d invited the guy out a

second time.

This affair was supposed to end Saturday night. He had won the bet, and had the

money to prove it, so why was he still interested in the computer geek who sat in the

corner?
Face it
, he told himself,
you’re beyond interested.

No one had ever touched him the way Jeff had. No one had ever kissed him so

tenderly, or looked at him so ardently. He was used to guys who lusted after him, who

were greedy for his body, hungry for his cock. Jeff had been all that, but there was

something much more complex and compelling at work. Jeff had been out there, raw

and vulnerable, the radiance of his adoring smile leaving no doubt as to his feelings.

That should have put Reese off. Hank"s voice was mocking in his head, warning

that if he didn"t watch it, the geek would be using the L word. He could almost see

Hank sitting beside him in the car, putting his finger down his throat in an imitation of

making himself vomit at the very thought.

Love.

Did it perhaps exist after all? Had Hank and he spent their lives denying something

that might, just maybe, be more real than the games they played?

Beyond Jeff"s obvious infatuation, there was a power that spoke directly to some

secret place inside Reese, a place he hadn"t known he"d possessed. For the life of him,