“Deal,” Luca agreed.
Once the food arrived, they spent several content minutes eating delicious tacos of roasted pork and beef topped with fresh queso fresco, tomato, cilantro and a smoky, spicy salsa. The frozen margaritas were surprisingly good and went down easy. “Man, this food is fantastic,” Reese enthused. “I could live on this stuff.”
“Right?” Luca agreed with a grin. “The f-f-flan is really g-g-good too, if you have room.”
Reese leaned back in his chair, patting his full stomach. “I don’t even have room in my pocket.” At Luca’s sweetly crestfallen look, he offered, “But I’ll definitely take a bite of yours.” He ended up eating at least half of Luca’s delicious, creamy dessert.
“So, tell me about you,” Reese said as he watched Luca finish the last of the flan. “What did you do before you worked at Strata?”
“I was a s-s-software engineer at MIT up in Boston. I did undergraduate and p-p-post-grad work there before they hired me.”
“Wow. MIT. Impressive. Your family must be proud.”
Luca laughed, shaking his head. “Not hardly. I’m a total f-f-freak in my f-f-family. We come from Lowell. That’s a town about twenty-five miles northwest of B-B-Boston. I’m one of f-f-four brothers. Dad and my brothers all still work down at the m-m-mill. No one on either s-s-side of my f-f-family ever went to college. It wasn’t b-b-bad enough I was an egghead g-g-geek with a s-s-speech impediment, but I was a f-f-faggot on t-t-top of that.” Luca’s stutter had become much more pronounced, and color was rising in his face.
“That sounds rough,” Reese said sympathetically. “Is that why you moved down to Colorado? To get away from them?”
“No. C-C-Cambridge was already another p-p-planet as far as they were c-c-concerned. I just n-n-needed to get away. I needed a change.”
“I get that,” Reese said, nodding. “I needed a change, too. Strata is a big departure for me.”
“What did you d-d-do before that?” Luca suddenly regarded him closely, as if Reese’s answer was especially important.
“I worked in construction. I started at the very bottom when I was eighteen. Worked my way up to not quite the very bottom by twenty-nine,” he added with a grin.
“That’s quite a shift from construction to sales, no? What made you want to s-s-switch careers?”
“That’s just it. Construction wasn’t really a career for me. It was a job. I got started in it because…” He paused without completing the sentence. So far, he hadn’t breathed a word about his relationship with Hank or the Seeley family to Luca. Until today, it hadn’t seemed necessary. But now that they’d made love, things were different.
Because that was what had happened. They hadn’t just “hooked up.” What they’d shared hadn’t been some ordinary quickie, or even just a good fuck. They’d made love. When was the last time Reese had made love with someone?
The short answer was easy. Never. The long answer was more complicated.
“Because…?” Luca prompted.
Why not just tell him? Not about the bet, of course, but about the Seeleys. “Because of Hank Seeley. We were both kind of outcasts. Both new to the school, though I was used to that.”
“You moved a lot?”
“I was placed a lot,” Reese corrected. “I attended eleven different schools between fourth and twelfth grade.”
“Eleven! That’s crazy.”
Reese nodded. “I guess I should back up.” Reese blew out a breath. “My, uh, my parents and my little brother were killed in a car accident when I was nine.”
“Oh, Reese,” Luca said, reaching across the small table to place his hand over Reese’s. “I’m so sorry. That’s horrible.”
Reese shrugged. Luca was looking at him with such open, heartfelt sympathy that, ridiculously, tears popped into Reese’s eyes. He blinked them rapidly away “Yeah. Whatever. It was a long time ago.”
“No relatives who could take you?”
Reese shook his head. “My dad was an only child. Grandparents dead on both sides. My mom had a much older sister somewhere, but apparently, she was a drunk and always in and out of rehab. Not up to taking a kid on, I guess, if she was even contacted.” Reese shrugged. “So I was stuck in foster care. I wasn’t a very good kid. I caused a lot of trouble and I got moved around a lot in the system. I figured out I was gay when I was around fourteen, when the hormones started going wild. I kept it a secret pretty much from everyone. I ran around with tough guys, cutting class, smoking dope and committing acts of petty vandalism,” he added with a grin. “You know, your basic fuckup.”
“S-s-sounds like my b-b-brothers,” Luca said with a grin.
Reese shrugged again. “It was all just for show, to look tough and keep anyone from realizing I was gay. I met Hank senior year of high school. We started to hang out. He was openly gay while I was still in the closet back then.”
“So, he was your first.”
Reese smiled, thinking how innocent both he and Hank had been so long ago. “Yeah. And then I got into some trouble in a fight. It was an ambush of Hank and me—really a hate crime because the gang I used to run with didn’t approve of queers—but I fought back. A kid was badly hurt and I got blamed. I was arrested. I was seventeen and I could have been tried as an adult. But Hank’s dad, Mr. Seeley, pulled some strings and got me out of the jam. Hank and I got transferred to another high school for the remainder of senior year. The family kind of took me under their wing after that, including me on family vacations, stuff like that. When I graduated, just barely, Mr. Seeley gave me a job at Seeley Construction.”
“Seeley Construction,” Luca said. “I see their signs all over the place. Big company.”
“Yeah. Big money,” Reese agreed.
“And Hank?” Luca asked, a furrow appearing between his brows. “He s-s-still in the p-p-picture?”
Again Reese had to resist the impulse to lie. “Yeah,” he admitted. “We’re, uh, we’re still friends.”
“J-j-just friends?” Luca asked, his eyes fixed on Reese.
Reflexively, Reese started to agree. But he pulled himself up short. Wouldn’t it be wild to start a new relationship with openness? Wouldn’t it be amazing to stop all the games, to lower his defenses? To be honest, for a change? But if he said he was in a relationship with another guy, what would Luca think?
“Friends with benefits,” he finally amended. At Luca’s frown, he added quickly, “It’s more habit than anything, at this point.” That, at least, was the truth.
When Luca didn’t reply, he hurried on, eager to change the subject, “So, what about you? Anyone else in the picture?”
Luca’s face darkened a moment. He looked away and pushed his hair from his face with both hands. When he looked back at Reese, his expression had smoothed back to neutral. “I’ve kept p-p-pretty much to myself s-s-since I moved down here. Focused on work…”
“You guys done or what?” A big guy with a small, grubby child on his hip, had appeared suddenly at their table. “Folks waiting to sit down here.” Behind the guy was a harried-looking woman holding the hand of another child, equally grubby.
“Oh, s-s-sorry,” Luca said, shooting to his feet.
Reese, too, got to his feet, deciding to ignore the guy’s rudeness. They left the crowded taco joint and walked back to Luca’s place. The sun had set fully while they were eating, and the air had grown chilly. They walked quickly, and when they’d reached Luca’s apartment and stepped into the foyer, Reese’s phone buzzed yet again in his pocket. Though he’d planned to ignore it, Luca must have heard it too, because he said, “Your phone’s b-b-buzzing. I forgot to tell you, it b-b-buzzed a couple of times while you were s-s-sleeping. Maybe it’s important.”
Reese doubted that, but he fished the cell from his pocket and glanced at the screen. Hank again. He tapped on the message, which read, “Where the fuck are you? You working on the bet? Got your dick buried in that innocent geek loser yet? Remember, I need proof…”
The b
et.
Hank’s text reminded Reese sharply of just exactly why he’d started this seduction in the first place. Color rose, hot and shameful, over his cheeks as he quickly shoved the offending phone back into his jeans.
“Hey, you okay?” Luca peered into his eyes. “No b-b-bad news, I hope?”
“No, no,” Reese said, suddenly determined. “There’s just something I need to take care of.”
When he arrived at Hank’s door, Julio was there to greet him, shirtless and barefoot as usual. His eyes were red, a goofy smile on his face. “Hey there, Reese.” He pulled the door open wide. “Hank is out back.” He’d dropped his usual habit of calling them Mr. Reese and Mr. Hank, Reese noticed.
“He smoking what you’re smoking?” Reese asked with a grin.
“Best fucking hash I ever had.” Julio’s goofy grin widened.
Reese made his way out to the pool at the back of the house. Hank was leaning back in a lounge chair, a bong balanced on his chest. The air was redolent with the pungent, smoky scent of hashish. He looked over at Reese as he closed the sliding glass doors and approached him.
“Hey, sexy,” he said, his voice slightly slurred. “Good thing you showed up. I’ve got a boner that won’t quit. I almost broke down and made Julio suck me off, but you’re sooooo much better at it.”
Ignoring Hank’s remark, Reese sat down on the lounge beside Hank and took the bong from him. He was not looking forward to a confrontation. He took a long hit on the pipe, holding the water-cooled smoke in his lungs for a long time before exhaling it. The effect was immediate, and he sighed with pleasure, almost relaxed. “Good shit,” he said.
“It better be,” Hank said with a lazy grin. “Cost me a fucking fortune.”
Reese leaned back against the chaise lounge and stared up at the dark sky, which was sprinkled with a billion points of glittering light. Hank reached out a hand and placed it lightly on Reese’s thigh. The gesture was so familiar that it was almost comforting.
Twelve years. They’d been together, in one way or another, their entire adult lives. When they were newly friends, though Hank was the more sexually experienced, Reese had more street smarts. They’d both brought something unique and valuable to the relationship. Then came the fight with Ray’s gang.
Reese took another hit on the bong, allowing memories he normally banished to a dark corner of his brain to surface. Hank liked to live on the edge, even back then. He enjoyed taking risks, though in retrospect, Reese realized Hank always 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.
That particular afternoon Hank and Reese had 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. When they’d finished the assignment, she still hadn’t returned. Reese figured they’d just leave, but Hank had other ideas.
“Come into the supply closet. You’re going to suck my cock.” Hank had placed his hand over Reese’s crotch.
“You nuts?” Reese jerked away, glancing reflexively around the empty lab.
“Come on, you know you want to,” Hank had retorted with a sly smile.
“No way, Hank. Forget it.”
“Tough guy Armstrong, runs with the bad boys. Don’t tell me you’re chicken?”
When Reese didn’t respond, Hank added, “Tell you what. I’ll suck you off. You can return the favor later at my house.”
Even back then, Hank could suck the paint off a barn. Reese, seventeen and perennially horny, got an instant erection. When Hank gave him a push toward the supply closet, this time Reese went along. Hank had left 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 mouth was suddenly jerked away from Reese’s cock as he was yanked from the closet. Startled and shocked, Reese quickly tucked himself away and zipped his fly. He came nervously out, assuming they’d been busted by the teacher.
Instead he’d found Ray Greer standing there with his two most loyal henchmen. Chuck, a six-foot-four linebacker on the football team with a Cro-Magnon forehead ridge, held Hank by the arms from behind. Pete, an overweight, pimple-faced boy, bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet, his hands clenched into fists.
“Holy shit,” Ray had cried, a sneer twisting his features. He had a switchblade in his hand, which he snicked open and waved menacingly toward Reese. “I wondered why you stopped hanging with us, Armstrong.” He turned to his buddies. “Armstrong’s a fucking faggot, too. Two fucking faggots for the price of one.” He nodded toward Pete, who smashed his fist into Hank’s gut.
As Hank doubled over, Reese’s body was drenched in fight-or-flight chemicals, a red haze of fury clouding his vision. Without thinking about what he was doing, he had smashed the side of his hand down hard against Ray’s wrist. As the bone cracked, the knife skittered away. Then someone hit Reese hard in the back of the head.
Things got hazy after that. He still couldn’t remember precisely what had happened. But even now, over a decade later, he could still hear the splinter of glass as beakers and vials overturned and crashed to the floor. He could still see the red pool of blood on the gray linoleum around Ray’s head as he sprawled, still as death, on the floor.
When the teacher and a janitor finally came shouting into the room, Chuck had vanished. Hank was still doubled over, retching. Pete’s face was mottled, his eye already starting to swell closed.
“He did it,” Pete had cried, pointing to Reese with a fat finger when the teacher demanded to know what had happened. “He attacked me and Ray for no reason. He threatened us with that switchblade, too!” He pointed to the blade, which lay open near Ray’s inert body.
The ambulance and the police were called, and Reese had been hauled away in handcuffs, despite Hank’s protest that the other guys had started the fight. Thankfully, Hank’s dad had managed to set everything to rights, including getting both Hank and Reese transferred to yet another high school to finish out their final year.
That one event, as much as anything else, had cemented the relationship between Hank and Reese. Though neither had been especially monogamous over the years, when they’d played outside the relationship, it had never involved much more than a one-night stand. Hank, of course, held the financial strings and, with his ability to tap into Reese’s natural sexually submissive bent, also the sexual ones. The balance of power had always belonged solidly to Hank. Until recently, Reese had just accepted it as the way of things.
Getting involved with Luca was something on a completely different plane. Luca represented a fresh start, without a past, without strings, obligations or habit. Reese felt vibrant and alive in a way that was totally new to him, and it was because of Luca. Was he actually falling in…?
No. He couldn’t even think the word. Certainly, he’d never said it to Hank, nor had Hank said it to him. The L word didn’t even exist in their language. But maybe someday… He closed his eyes, letting images of his new lover fill his mind.
“That’s some good shit, huh?” Hank’s voice sounded as if it were coming from a tunnel.
Reese turned his head slowly as he tried to focus on the man lounging beside him. Hank’s head appeared to be surrounded by a halo of white. It took a moment for Reese to realize it was just the glow from the pool lights. “Too good,” he slurred. “I’m totally fucked up.”
“I’ll give you a few minutes to come down before I use you, boy,” Hank said lazily. Reese ignored the remark.
After a while, Hank sat up and turned toward Reese. He was dressed in a black silk top over white shorts, crisp and put together as always. He smiled. “Tell me about the bet. Did you get the video?” He held out his hand. “Give me your phone.” He got to his feet. “Better yet, let’s stream it to the new seventy-five-inch flat screen I just had installed in the rec roo
m.”
That sobered Reese up. He felt both hot and cold as he girded himself to face Hank. “About that bet…” he said slowly.
Chapter 8
Hank tilted his head, peering at Reese in that way he had, like he was listening in on the thoughts tumbling anxiously through Reese’s brain. Uncomfortable with the scrutiny, Reese looked out toward the pool. It was lit from below, and the rays of light filtered through the water, giving it an eerie glow.
“Look at me,” Hank said sternly.
Reese forced his gaze back to Hank. He was coming down from the hashish high and his head was beginning to pound.
“Something’s off with you. What’s going on?”
When Reese didn’t reply, Hank narrowed his eyes. “Dude. Did you get the video or what? By the squirrely way you’re acting, I’m guessing you’re having a tougher time than you anticipated. If you want to admit now that it’s a lost cause”—he smiled a slow, sexy grin, the kind that used to send a jolt of desire directly to Reese’s cock—“I’m prepared to accept your defeat and collect on the terms.” He leaned forward, reaching for Reese’s crotch.
Reese rose abruptly from the lounge chair, the sudden movement making him dizzy. He drew in a deep breath of the cool, clear mountain air and some of the fog lifted from his brain. “The bet’s off.”
Hank, too, got to his feet. “Whoa. This nut must be a tough one to crack. I’ve never known you to give up before a deadline. You’ve still got time. You sure you want to throw in the towel already?”
“No.” Reese scowled. “I mean, yes. I mean, this whole bet thing was stupid. I don’t want any part of it. Let’s just forget the whole thing.”
Hank’s eyebrows shot up with surprise. “What? I’m not following you, boy. What are you gibbering about?”
Luca’s sweet, innocent face floated into Reese’s mind. The idea of secretly recording the two of them and then laughing over it with Hank made him sick to his stomach. He’d always told himself in the past the guys they’d secretly made fools of deserved what they got, but had they? Did anyone deserve to be treated like that? It actually made his heart hurt to think of how Hank and he had behaved all these years. He pressed his hand to his chest to ease the pressure.
Dangerous Games Page 9