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Authors: Claire Thompson

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BOOK: Wicked Hearts
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When he finally let Jeff go, Jeff slid slowly down the door until he was sitting on the

floor, his jeans tangled around his knees, his cock still jutting from his groin, wet and

shiny. Reese raked his body with his gaze, his eyes hooded with lust.

He held out a hand and Jeff took it, allowing Reese to hoist him to his feet. Reese

took him into his arms and kissed his neck. “If that was the appetizer,” Reese

murmured, “I can"t wait for the meal.”

Chapter 7

The next morning found Reese musing at his desk, his work ignored. Last night had

been amazing. Though he hadn"t admitted it to Jeff, Reese had been half-dreading

seeing him again, not because he wasn"t interested, but because he knew it would be

impossible for their second time to measure up to the first. No way could the intensity

be repeated or recreated.

And yet it had. If anything, it had been better. For one thing, there was no camera

recording their every move. He was no longer doing something sneaky. There was no

ulterior motive. He was with Jeff because he wanted to be, and that felt good.

He hadn"t planned on the impromptu blow job upon entering Jeff"s house. Jeff had

looked so fucking sexy, his hair still damp from a shower, his jeans slung low over his

hips, revealing a band of pale, smooth skin beneath his shirt, his feet bare.

After a very good meal, they"d moved to the bedroom to finish what he"d started,

and this time Jeff was back in control, claiming Reese with as much intensity and

mastery as he had that first time. Reese had never been with anyone like Jeff. He

wanted more, more, more.

Reese was distracted by his cell phone vibrating on the desk. The erection that had

been building eased off when he saw it was Hank, but he knew he couldn"t put him off

forever.

“Hey. What"s up?”

“Finally. Where the fuck have you been?” Without waiting for a response, Hank

continued, “Want me to pick you up at eight for the show or do you have time for

dinner first?”

Shit. Reese had completely forgotten. Adopting his best sincere tone, tinged with

regret, he said, “I can"t, Hank. I"m sorry.”

“What do you mean you can"t? I"ve had these tickets for weeks. What"s the

problem?”

Reese hesitated, the lie ready on his tongue. “I have to work late. It"s my chance for

my first big client. If I get this account, I"ll finally make a name for myself at Strata.”

“You and that stupid job,” Hank said, exasperation ripe in his voice. At least he

seemed to be going for it. “Damn it, Reese. This is the third time in a week you"ve put

me off. I think you"re forgetting on what side your bread has been buttered all these

years.”

“Oh, yeah? How long does the statute of limitations run?” Reese could barely

believe he"d said the words aloud. Now that they were out, he couldn"t believe he"d

waited this long.

There was a thunderous silence at the other end of the phone.

“There"s no statute of limitations on a man"s life,” Hank finally said in a quiet but

deadly voice. Reese actually shuddered, glad he was separated by several miles from

the man on the other end of the line.

“Another call coming in. Later.” Reese hung up and leaned back in his office chair,

swiveling to see the mountains outside his window. He stared past the view, his mind,

against his will, returning to that terrible, confusing time.

Back in high school, though quiet and reserved around his classmates, in fact Hank

had a caustic, biting wit, which he turned with scathing, cruel accuracy on everyone

around them. It made Reese feel special back then to be taken under his wing. He was

part of a superior elite of two.

But more than that, he"d found someone who understood and shared his sexual

orientation. He didn"t have to pretend to be something he wasn"t. Reese had been

thrilled with their experimentation, an eager and willing pupil in the sexual lessons.

Hank liked to live on the edge, even back then. He enjoyed taking risks, though in

retrospect, Reese realized Hank had a safety net—no matter how bad he fucked up, Dad

was always there to clean up the mess, or sweep it under the rug.

One afternoon Hank and Reese stayed after school to complete a science lab they"d

both missed. Toward the end of the lab the teacher overseeing them had been called

away on some emergency or other. They finished the lab and Reese figured they"d

leave, but Hank had other ideas.

“Come in the supply closet. You"re going to suck my cock.”

They were seventeen, perennially horny and very stupid. Reese at first refused.

What if someone found them?

“Come on, you know you want to,” Hank had retorted. “I"ll return the favor when

we go to my house, if you"re a good little boy.” Hank reached for him, his grip sure as

he stroked Reese"s cock through his jeans.

They both stared down at his erection, Reese with embarrassment, Hank with a sly

smile. He pushed Reese back toward the supply closet door. They entered it, leaving the

door slightly ajar so they would hear anyone coming.

But they didn"t hear a thing—not until it was too late.

What happened next would always remain a blur, punctuated with pain, terror and

confusion. Hank"s cock suddenly jerked from Reese"s mouth, the thunk of Hank"s skull

hitting the floor, Reese"s frantic, terrified scrabble to stand, his body drenched in fight-

or-flight chemicals, his hands curled into fists before he even knew who he was

attacking. The splintering of glass, the gush of blood, splattering bright red against the

gray linoleum, the rush of feet trampling into the room, the cries of outraged horror…

Reese closed his eyes and put his face into his hands. He had blocked out the actual

event for so long, so why was it streaming through his brain now? Was it because of

Jeff? Had his defenses been lowered by the sweetness they"d shared, allowing feelings

so long numbed to sting painfully back to life?

He had to get out of the office—breathe some fresh air. He thought of inviting Jeff,

but knew he couldn"t keep pulling the guy away from work all the time. Anyway,

they"d only been seeing each other a week and a half. He didn"t want to come across as

needy.

Grabbing his briefcase to make it look official, Reese left the building. He headed

for his car. A drive along some country roads would clear his head. Why focus on a past

that couldn"t be changed, when a bright future lay ahead?

As he drove, thoughts of Jeff returned, replacing those dark memories. If only he

hadn"t given Hank the video. Yes, the money was great, but nothing involving Hank

Seeley came that easy. In his heart of hearts, Reese knew it was only a matter of time

before he was forced to pay, though he didn"t yet know how.

And what about Jeff? Even though Jeff didn"t know about the video, Reese felt

ashamed of what he had done. More than once, it had been on the tip of his tongue to

confess to his new lover about the stupid bet and apologize, but he"d stayed quiet.

In the ten days since the bet had been won, he"d spent every spare moment with

Jeff, which intellectually he knew was a bad move. As Hank would have reminded

him, rule number two of the Armstrong code of relationships was you never saw the

guy two nights in a row. You did that, and before you knew it, the guy was thinking he

owned you, and next thing you knew, he"d want to move in.

But he just couldn"t help it. He couldn"t seem to get enough of Jeff. He loved

everything about him—from his too-long hair always falling into his face, to those

amazing silver-gray eyes, to the taste of his skin, the feel of his hard cock, and even the

stutter that came out when Jeff was feeling nervous or unsure. There was an

innocence—a vulnerability in Jeff that, instead of wanting to exploit, Reese wanted to

protect.

He had never felt this way in his life. Was this that thing he"d read about? Was this

what all the poems and song lyrics had been talking about? Was the impervious Reese

Armstrong succumbing at last to that crazy little thing called love?

“Nah,” Reese said aloud, more out of habit than conviction. “No fucking way.”

~*~

The weekend arrived and Jeff and Reese decided to take a nice long hike, spending

the day in the mountains. A lone eagle wheeled high overhead, circling against the

impossibly blue Colorado sky. The nearby rushing waterfall threw off a cool breeze

toward the mossy ground where Reese lay with his head in Jeff"s lap, his eyes closed.

Jeff stroked Reese"s cheek, staring down at him with wonder. He still couldn"t quite

believe they were together. The last two weeks had been the happiest of his life. What

he"d thought he"d found with Tom paled in comparison to the explosion of sheer joy

that whipped through him when he thought about Reese.

Every misgiving, every fear he"d had about Reese"s sincerity had been wiped away

by Reese"s constant, loving attention. It was almost like Reese was another person. The

swaggering, over-confident guy at the office had given way to a tender, affectionate and

sensitive man. He still made jokes at work, and flirted with most of the staff, male and

female, but sometimes he would catch Jeff"s eye and smile, a secret communication

passing between them that seemed to say, “This is just for show.
You
know the real

me.”

Jeff had been surprised to learn Reese didn"t really have any friends either. “There

is this guy I hang around with,” Reese had amended, when Jeff expressed his

incredulity that Reese wouldn"t be surrounded by friends and lovers. “His name is

Hank. We"ve known each other since senior year in high school.”

Jeff noticed when Reese talked about this guy, Hank, his mood shifted. He would

become edgy and even irritable. It seemed fairly clear to Jeff that Reese didn"t much

care for him, but it wasn"t clear why. When he"d probed, Reese had snapped at him,

something he"d never done before or since.

“Just drop it, okay? It"s a long, boring story. He did me a big favor once. And I

worked for his dad for a long time. That"s it. No big deal.”

Jeff sensed he was lying, at least by omission, but he didn"t know about what. He

let the matter drop. When Reese was ready, he would tell him. Jeff thought about it,

though, wondering what kind of favor Hank could have done twelve years ago that

would still keep Reese hanging around.

He had a sense they were, or had been at one time, more than just friends, but again

he didn"t probe. He didn"t really want to know about Reese"s prior lovers. They would

stay in the present. The only history that mattered was the shared one they were

building together.

Reese shifted, turning his head so his face was pressed against Jeff"s crotch.

“Mmm,” Reese murmured. “What have we here?” Jeff cock instantly rose in response,

pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

Reese jerked at the snap on Jeff"s fly and pulled down the zipper. Reaching into

Jeff"s underwear, he pulled out his cock. “Hey,” Jeff protested, though his erection

stiffened even more at Reese"s touch. “Someone might see us.”

“No one will see us. Those bushes are shielding us from the trail. Relax. This won"t

take long.” Reese chuckled and angled himself, lowering his mouth over Jeff"s

protruding shaft.

“Christ,” Jeff whispered, succumbing to Reese"s skilled lips and tongue. Reese was

right—it didn"t take long, even though they"d already made love twice earlier that

morning. When Jeff exploded into his mouth, Reese sucked down every drop and

looked up at Jeff, smacking his lips in an exaggerated manner.

“Mmm, mmm good,” Reese said, grinning. “What"s for dessert?”

“You,” Jeff replied, grinning back.

~*~

“The quail with mushrooms and cream sauce is excellent, or if you prefer scallops,

the Coquille St. Jacques will melt in your mouth.” Hank peered over his leather menu

inquiringly at Reese.

They were sitting at a table covered in thick white linen and set with fine china and

crystal. A string quartet was playing classical music on a dais in one corner of the room

and there seemed to be almost as many tuxedoed waiters milling about the room as

there were patrons at the tables.

Reese scanned the entrees, which had no prices beside them. If you had to ask, you

couldn"t afford it. He suppressed a grin, thinking of Jeff, who wouldn"t have wanted

any of this rich, creamy food with names he wouldn"t even try to pronounce.

He would have rather spent the evening with Jeff, but knew he couldn"t put Hank

off any longer. And in truth, he"d been dying to try this place, which, despite its

astronomical prices, had a waiting list for reservations a mile long.

They placed their order, along with what Reese was sure was a very expensive

BOOK: Wicked Hearts
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