Dangerous Games

by Claire Thompson

  “Come back here, Johnny,” a woman called out. “There are storm clouds overhead. We need to go back down.”

  Luca pulled away, a startled look on his face. Reese tried to contain his frustration as they both looked up at the sky. It was early for a shower, even this time of year, but there was no denying those black, ominous clouds glowering down at them.

  “Shit,” he said, his balls aching. “She’s right.” He forced himself to his feet, regret slithering like that rattlesnake through his loins. But it was crazy to take that kind of risk on a mountaintop. As if to emphasize the point, thunder rumbled in the distance and a few fat drops of rain spattered down. “We’d better head for shelter. The Lookout Mountain Nature Center isn’t far from here. We can go there until it blows over. Trust me, you don’t want to get caught in a thunderstorm on the summit of a mountain.”

  They repacked the backpack quickly and headed back around the boulders toward the trail to the nature center. The rain was now falling steadily, bolts of lightning zigzagging in the sky, followed almost instantly by cracking thunder.

  The nature center was crowded with hikers when they pushed their way through the doors. Raindrops beaded on Luca’s long, dark lashes, and Reese had to force himself to resist the urge to gently flick them away.

  The storm passed as quickly as it had erupted, but the sky remained overcast. “I guess we’d better head back down,” Reese said reluctantly. What the hell was happening to him? What had started out as a cynical seduction had definitely veered off the path. Reese no longer knew just exactly what he was doing, or why.

  As crazy as it was to admit, he was falling for this sweet, innocent guy. There was definitely more to him than Reese had first thought. He sensed a core of resolute strength beneath the shyness that was very appealing. Was he falling in love?

  “We don’t do love,” Hank liked to say, and, until he’d met Luca, Reese had been inclined to agree. He tried to shake off the crazy feeling. Love? That was ridiculous. He barely knew the guy. He was just infatuated. He’d get over it.

  Or would he?

  Chapter 6

  Sunday morning Reese awoke to the sound of his cell phone dinging beside his bed. He hadn’t slept well, restlessly tossing and turning half the night, alternately excited and confused by whatever was happening, or not happening, between him and Luca.

  He grabbed the phone, a smile already forming on his face. But instead of Luca, whom he’d added to his contacts the day before, he saw the text was from Hank. “How’s the bet going?”

  He’d told Hank the night before he’d been working on the bet—a handy excuse to get out of going clubbing with him.

  “It’s going,” Reese typed back.

  Luca had texted at around nine to say he’d had a good time on the hike. When Reese had suggested they get together for a late dinner or something, Luca had explained he was still working on the Canada issue, which was turning out to be more complicated than he’d first believed.

  “He’s playing hard to get, eh?” Hank typed back. “Just show him that pretty cock of yours. Better yet, shove it down his throat. I can’t wait to see the video of you and the geek going at it.”

  Reese stiffened, a flush of anger rising to his cheeks. Who the hell did Hank think he was? Reese shook his head, forcing himself to calm down. Hank was just being Hank. He was still playing by their old rules. Rules they’d established years before and had played by for so long. Reese was the one who had changed.

  He’d never experienced anything like that kiss. It was as if they’d poured their souls into it, blending together in a perfect understanding that defied language. It was as if he’d been living in a foreign land, and suddenly, somehow, found his way home.

  Reese longed for more, but at the same time, for the first time in his life, he was content to wait a little longer. It was almost sweet, in a deliciously painful way, to delay the moment when they finally made love.

  Was he really going to videotape that intimate moment? When the time actually came—if the time actually came—would he be able to do it?

  The thought of Hank watching such an intimate, private moment made him sick to his stomach. Luca wasn’t like the usual players at the bars and clubs where they had generally chosen their prey. Even if he didn’t know about the video, Reese would know about it, and just the thought of doing such a thing now filled him with shame. He shouldn’t have agreed to the stupid bet in the first place.

  His phone dinged again. “We’ll be there by ten to pick you up for the birthday brunch. Wear that new cashmere sweater I got you in Cannes. I assume you forgot a present, as usual, but don’t worry. The diamond tennis bracelet I got Mom can be from both of us.”

  Reese stared at the phone for several seconds, confused. Then he remembered. It was Sandra’s birthday, her sixtieth, and Reese had been invited to the family brunch. He hadn’t been included in the big gala that night at the Seeley mansion, a black-tie affair for a few hundred of their closest friends, which had hurt his feelings when Hank had first told him, but now he was glad.

  He liked Sandra, at least he liked her more than he liked Henry, Hank’s overbearing, domineering father. Sandra had always reminded him of a little, fluttery bird, flitting around to her many social events, with the occasional landing to pay vague, sporadic attention to her son. For years, she’d barely remembered Reese’s name. He was “that nice boy” who kept Hank occupied during their vacations to Greece, Italy, France and once even to Hong Kong when Hank had still been living at home.

  Actually, the brunch would be a good way to pass the time while he waited for Luca to text. He glanced at his phone. It was already nearly nine thirty. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and got to his feet, at the same time tapping the screen with his thumbs. “I’ll be ready.”

  As he soaped up beneath the shower’s spray, his hand strayed to his cock, which had engorged with the memory of Luca’s silver-gray eyes shining as he’d leaned into their kiss. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way about a guy. He stroked himself, closing his eyes as he imagined sliding his cock into Luca’s tight ass for the first time. What would Luca look like naked? He’d gotten a fairly good idea when he’d seen him in his workout clothes, though the shorts and T-shirt were baggy. His legs and arms were nicely muscled and his cock had been hard as steel for that brief moment he’d allowed Reese’s hand to graze it. Was his chest hairy or smooth?

  Reese imagined stripping the clothing from Luca’s hard body, one garment at a time. When he finally had him naked and trembling, he’d crouch before him, drawing out the moment as he took the head of Luca’s cock into his mouth. He could almost taste the salty-sweet drop of pre-come he would lick away before lowering his mouth to take in the length of him. He’d cradle Luca’s balls as he took him deep in his throat, milking him until he begged for mercy.

  Alone in the shower, Reese came fast, groaning as he spurted over his fingers. As he toweled himself dry, he wondered what was going on with him. It wasn’t like him to fantasize about a guy. He would just go for what he wanted and take it. End of story. But something about Luca…

  But it wasn’t just about Luca, was it? The old Reese, even if attracted to Luca, wouldn’t have been grappling with all these moral issues. He would have completed the bet, pocketed the money and moved on. But something inside him had changed over the past year. Whatever it was, it had motivated him to make this wild leap of faith, quitting a steady job to try something new, while at the same time slowly but surely detaching from Hank.

  A whole different life had now opened before him, and he was the one making the changes. He didn’t have to be beholden to Hank any longer. He was finally ready to be his own man, on his own terms.

  He felt different inside—buoyant with hope and expectation. Did it show in his face? He regarded himself in the bathroom mirror. He looked the same, save for the smile that kept lifting his lips. Would Hank detect the difference in him? He rubbed his jawline. He hadn’t sha
ved in a couple of days, and the dark blond stubble was rough against his fingers. He turned on the hot water in the sink and squirted shaving cream on his face. The Seeleys would expect him to be properly groomed.

  Reese settled next to Hank in the back seat of Hank’s car. “Morning, Carson,” he said to the driver.

  “Morning, sir,” Carson replied. It always felt strange to Reese, the way Carson, a man in his mid-forties, insisted on calling Hank and Reese “sir.” Reese had asked him over the years to please just call him Reese, but Carson wouldn’t do it. Even when they were alone in the car without Hank, he persisted in his formality, and Reese had given up trying.

  “So,” Hank said, putting his hand proprietarily on Reese’s thigh, “that geek is proving a tough nut to crack, hmm? Or are you just losing your touch?”

  Reese girded himself. He’d never tried to get out of a bet before. “I’ve been doing some thinking. I’m not sure it’s such a good idea—this whole bet thing. I mean, I work with the guy.”

  “Hey, you knew that going in.” Hank shrugged. “Not to worry.” He slid his hand seductively up Reese’s thigh to his groin. “You’ll look adorable in the black leather slave outfit I’ve got waiting for you.”

  Reese pushed Hank’s hand gently but firmly away. “That’s not going to happen,” he asserted, a new determination stiffening his resolve.

  “Proof of conquest, or pay the price. You know the rules, boy. It’s how it’s always been.”

  Maybe so. But that didn’t mean it was how it always had to be…

  ~*~

  A bell was chiming insistently, interrupting his dream. When Luca finally cocked open one eye, it took him a moment to realize it was the doorbell. He glanced at the clock by his bed. It was three fifteen, and the room was suffused with sunlight. Luca was still in his T-shirt and jeans, sprawled on top of his covers.

  The Canadian client’s issue had turned out to be a thorny one, requiring a significant amount of recoding. After the conference call, he’d stayed at the office, eventually pulling an all-nighter. By the time he’d finally resolved the issue and averted the crisis, the sun had already been rising over the mountains. Bleary-eyed and exhausted, he’d somehow made his way home and fallen, fully clothed, onto the bed.

  “Coming,” he croaked, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he stumbled out of the bedroom. Without bothering to check the peephole, he pulled open the door.

  Reese Armstrong stood there in his leather jacket open to reveal a black knit shirt beneath. The sun glinted off his golden hair and the mirrored sunglasses covering his eyes. He wore faded jeans over black boots and looked good enough to eat. He held a bottle of something in his left hand, a pizza box balanced on his right palm. “Pizza delivery,” he said, flashing a cheeky, boyish grin.

  “Oh, wow. Hi,” Luca said, the sight of the handsome man burning away some of the fog from his brain. “What time is it?”

  Reese removed his sunglasses. “It’s after three. Did you just wake up?”

  Luca pushed his hair from his face. “Yeah. I ended up pulling an all-nighter fixing some code the clients had decided to adjust on their own. I kept looking for bugs in the SPI driver, but in the end, it turned out to be a simple typo in the build configuration.”

  “Whatever that means,” Reese replied with a laugh. “You going to ask me in?”

  “What? Oh. Yes. Yes, s-s-sorry.” Luca took a step back.

  Reese entered the apartment and Luca closed the door. He held out the pizza box. “Best pizza in Denver. I hope you like sausage and mushroom. And this is some very fancy champagne I snagged from a brunch I went to this morning. A must-have with pizza,” he added with a grin.

  Luca wasn’t sure about champagne at three in the afternoon, but his stomach rumbled, the smell of the melted cheese and tomato sauce making his mouth water. “Sure. I n-n-need to shower f-f-first to wake up.” He waved toward the kitchen. “Make yourself at home.”

  Luca hurried back to his bedroom and into the bathroom. His mouth tasted foul. As he brushed his teeth, he glanced at himself in the mirror. He looked like hell—his clothes disheveled and wrinkled, his hair a wild, tangled tumble around his face, so pale in contrast to the rugged, tan, gorgeous man who had appeared at his door like a gift.

  He turned on the shower and stepped into the stall. As he washed his hair and body, he came more fully awake, the hot water invigorating him. He thought about shaving, but didn’t want to take the time. Instead, after quickly toweling himself dry, he pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, not bothering with underwear. Hurriedly, he straightened the covers on the bed. He threw the dirty clothes scattered about the bedroom into the bathroom hamper, realizing as he did so that he was actually entertaining the very real possibility that Reese might be in his bed before the day was out.

  His heart beat wildly at the thought. He’d been so busy and distracted ever since they’d parted company the day before that he’d barely had a chance to think about what had happened—or almost happened—between them on the mountain. As he recalled the passionate kiss and Reese’s hard cock against him, his own cock rose with desire. But what did Reese want, exactly?

  And what did Luca himself want? Beyond the raw physical attraction he felt for Reese, he still didn’t entirely trust him. Did he dare to open his heart again, after all this time?

  ~*~

  Reese had taken a chance just showing up at Luca’s place, but his desire to see him had finally outweighed his promise to himself to let Luca make the next move. He’d gone through the motions at the brunch, actually glad that Hank had spent most of the time flirting with the bartender who’d been hired for the event, a dark, sexy Italian guy named Carlo. Once upon a time, Hank’s flirtation would have hurt Reese. More recently, he would have seen it as a challenge and possibly vied for Carlo’s attentions. But that morning, all he’d wanted to do was make his exit as soon as it was polite to do so.

  Hank, no doubt moving in for the kill, had barely batted an eye when Reese, snagging a bottle of Dom Perignon from the dozens on the bar, had informed him he had to go, and would call an Uber. After stopping at his apartment to change and get his car, he’d hit on the pizza idea as an excuse to show up without being invited.

  Now he watched the younger man eating a slice, wolfing it down as if he hadn’t eaten in a week. Pleased his idea had been a success, Reese took the champagne from the impromptu ice bucket he’d made from a mixing bowl he’d found in a cabinet, and popped the cork. He poured the bubbly wine into the cheap wineglasses he’d rescued from the back of a cupboard. He grinned to himself, thinking of the crystal champagne flutes in his own kitchenette, and what a snob he’d become under Hank’s tutelage.

  As Luca watched Reese opening the champagne, he said through a mouth full of pizza, “I don’t drink much. I’m not even sure I like champagne.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Reese said, pouring each of them a glass. “Everyone loves champagne. You just pulled an all-nighter, for heaven’s sake. You need something to snap you out of it. This stuff is the best, trust me.” He held out a glass.

  Luca accepted it, a dubious expression on his face. Reese lifted his own glass and held it out. “A toast,” he said. “To pizza, champagne and new friendships.” They clinked glasses.

  Luca took a tentative sip. He lifted his eyebrows. “That’s really g-g-good,” he said and then took another, larger sip.

  “Told you,” Reese said, grinning. As soon as Luca had finished the glass, he poured him another, along with one for himself. He selected a slice of pizza from the box and took a bite. It was good but his stomach was too jumpy for food. In spite of his pretending to be in control, he hadn’t been this nervous around a guy since the first time Hank had brought him home.

  As he chewed the pizza, his hand slipped surreptitiously to his jeans pocket, where his phone was nestled. He still teetered on the edge of a decision—to record or not to record. He’d gone back and forth in his head a hundred times—the easy money he desperately n
eeded pulling him one way, this new thing that was apparently his conscience pulling the other.

  One thing was for sure. He wanted Luca. And he didn’t want to wait another week, another day or even another hour. He poured himself a third glass of champagne. When he went to refill Luca’s empty glass, Luca put his hand over the top.

  “No thanks. I’m already f-f-feeling the effects of those t-t-two glasses.” He offered a goofy, lopsided grin. “I told you—I don’t drink m-m-much.” Was he actually drunk on two glasses of champagne?

  After consuming over half the pizza, Luca wiped his mouth with his napkin and then patted his stomach. “That was p-p-perfect. I didn’t realize how hungry I was. Thanks, Reese.” He offered another sweet, lopsided smile and Reese’s heart seized in his chest.

  Impulsively, he reached his hand across the table and placed it over Luca’s. “I want you,” he whispered, forgetting his plans of a slow seduction. “I have to have you, Luca. I want to make love to you. Please.”

  Luca stilled, the drunken smile falling away from his face. He stared for a long moment at Reese, his silver-gray eyes seeming to penetrate Reese’s very soul. Reese gazed back, unable to look away, his heart constricting as he waited for Luca’s response.

  “I want you, too,” Luca finally whispered.

  Without another word, they rose from the table in unison. Luca led Reese out of the kitchen, through the living room and into the bedroom. Once there, Reese took Luca in his arms and kissed him, pressing his body close as they explored each other’s mouths. Just as before, he lost himself in the kiss, every thought flying from his head as his body and heart took over.

  Luca was the first to pull away. Reese opened his eyes, his mouth still agape and in need of kisses. “Take off your shirt,” Luca said softly.

  Reese eagerly pulled his top over his head and tossed it aside. Luca eyed him. Reese, rarely self-conscious, found himself hoping Luca liked what he saw. Apparently, he did, because he smiled slowly, not a trace of nervousness in the grin. “Now the boots and jeans. Everything. I want you naked.”