“It’s not right,” he said staunchly. “It’s not right to trick someone like that. To use them for our amusement. To treat them like objects to be discarded when we’re done. We need to stop this kind of thing, Hank. It’s beneath us.”
Hank stared at him for several beats, his brow wrinkling with confusion. Then he laughed. “Good one, Armstrong. You really had me going there for a second. I was afraid you’d suddenly developed a conscience. Either that, or that hash is some wicked shit.” Still chuckling, he moved toward Reese, opening his arms, expecting Reese to step into them.
Reese took a step back and turned away. He walked toward the pool and stood on the edge, staring down into the glowing water. “I’m not kidding. Luca’s not like the guys we pick up at the clubs. And even that wasn’t right. I want out of the bet. I’m not going to do that to him, or anyone.”
Hank came up behind him and put his arms around Reese’s shoulders as he pressed against Reese’s back. “Playing hard to get, hmm?”
Reese shrugged him off and turned to face him. “Hank. I’m serious.”
Hank stared at him, frowning. “Holy shit. You are serious. You’re giving up before the deadline. I never thought I’d see the day when Reese Armstrong quit without a fight. Maybe I made the punishment too sweet, and you’re so fucking turned on by the idea of being my sex slave that you sabotaged your own bet.” He reached for Reese’s throat, catching him in a dominant grip.
Normally, the gesture would have been enough to melt Reese’s insides and send the blood pulsing to his cock. But now it just irritated him. He brushed Hank’s hand away. “That’s not it. Not at all. I’m sorry, Hank. I’m just done with these stupid games.”
Hank’s voice hardened. “You can admit you’ve lost, but you can’t back out of the bet, boy. Just because you’ve suddenly gone soft and stupid about some loser geek doesn’t mean you’re off the hook with me. A bet’s a bet. I know you’re not used to losing, but that’s too damn bad. We made the deal and we stick to the terms. Since you’re admitting defeat now, we can start your week of total slavery a few days earlier. Get inside now and go upstairs to the playroom. Strip naked and wait for me on your knees, slave boy.”
Reese blew out a frustrated breath. “You’re not getting it, Hank. I’m not playing. I’m not making the video and I’m not going to be your slave toy for the next week. I’m done with these stupid bets.” I’m done with you, he wanted to say, but couldn’t quite find the nerve.
Hank moved closer, the color rising in his face, his eyes sparking with fury. “You don’t get to decide that, boy. You want to protect that pathetic slob at your job, fine. Whatever. He’s completely irrelevant. But we had a deal, and you’re forgetting who you’re talking to. I own you. I decide what you’re done or not done with. Now, get upstairs and get naked. I’m going to strap your ass for your insolence.”
Reese silently cursed himself. He shouldn’t have come there. He should have just texted, or better yet, ignored Hank altogether. “Fuck off, Hank. Luca’s far from pathetic. And you don’t own me. I only agreed to the bet because I needed the fucking cash. But I’ll earn my own damn money. I’m not interested in playing your sex games or any other games for that matter. I’m leaving now.”
“You’re not going anywhere.” Hank, though shorter and more compact than Reese, was very strong. His hand shot out suddenly. Before Reese could react, Hank grabbed a fistful of Reese’s shirt and twisted it hard as he pulled him closer. His dark eyes glinted like shiny stones in the pool light. “I don’t know what the fuck your problem is, but you better adjust your attitude pronto, boy.” His other hand came up lightning-fast and he slapped Reese’s cheek hard with his open palm.
Shocked, Reese jerked back, his face blazing. Without thinking about what he was doing, he shoved hard at Hank, whose hands fell away as he lost his balance. He reached for Reese as he tottered, but before Reese could react, he fell sideways into the pool.
Reese crouched instantly and leaned over the water, holding out his hand to the thrashing man. “Shit, I’m sorry. Give me your hand.”
Hank had fallen into the shallow end of the pool. Sputtering and furious, he got to his feet as he whipped the wet hair from his face. He didn’t accept Reese’s hand. “You worthless little piece of shit,” he cried. “You’re gonna be sorry. Now get the fuck out. Get out of my house. Julio! Julio! Call the police!”
Julio instantly appeared, as if he’d been waiting just on the other side of the sliding glass door. “Oh, no, Mr. Hank. What is happening?” He stopped short when he saw Hank, still fully clothed, standing in the water. “Dios mio.” Julio rushed past Reese to crouch beside the water. “Did you fall in? Do you need help?”
“That bastard pushed me,” Hank said. “Get him out of here. Get Reese”—his voice broke, a sob escaping his lips. He turned away, his shoulders shaking.
Remorse and horror rose in Reese’s gut. In all their years together, he’d never seen Hank cry before. “Hank,” he pleaded. “Let’s talk this through.”
“Get out,” Hank cried, face still averted, tears in his voice. “Go.”
Shaken, Reese turned on his heels and fled.
~*~
“Celebration! This calls for a celebration,” Robert shouted enthusiastically on Monday afternoon.
Luca looked up from his work, startled by the noise. He’d been trying all day to concentrate on his task, but his mind kept veering toward Reese. His eyes kept straying toward his cell phone, which remained ominously silent.
When Reese had left him the evening before, Luca had been walking on air. He felt free as a bird, light and full of joy and possibility.
For the first time since he’d moved to Denver, he took his treasured old guitar from its case at the back of the bedroom closet. Perched on the edge of the bed, he tuned the strings and strummed a few chords. He hummed to himself as he noodled around, playing with chord progressions. Ed Sheeran’s song, The Shape of You, came into his head and he started to sing, tentatively at first, until the lyrics took over and swept him away.
I’m in love with the shape of you…
I’m in love with your body…
He played for over an hour, until his fingers, no longer properly calloused from daily strumming, got sore. When he’d still lived at home, that old guitar had been his saving grace and his only friend. When his brothers’ taunts became unbearable, he’d grab his guitar and hide down in the basement storage room, playing and singing softly to himself. Funny, when he sang, he never stuttered.
Once he’d gotten to college and found likeminded people with whom he could connect, he’d actually played for friends now and again, and once even found the nerve to perform in a dorm talent show. He used to sing for Tom sometimes… But he wouldn’t go there.
He stopped his ruminations, startled to realize it was okay to go there. That constant, sharp ache in his heart at the thought of Tom had somehow vanished, replaced by this crazy, hopeful buoyancy of new possibilities.
He’d eventually put the Taylor away, making a mental note to get new strings. He’d waited several hours before giving in to the temptation to text Reese.
“There’s just something I need to take care of,” Reese had said when they’d parted. Surely, he’d taken care of whatever it was by now?
By midnight, however, still not having heard anything, Luca had given in and texted a simple, “I had a great time today. Thank you.” When he hadn’t received a response, he’d told himself Reese had probably already gone to bed.
Luca woke up at eight the next morning, reaching instantly for his phone in case Reese had texted while he was asleep. There was an unread text and Luca clicked on it, his pulse quickening with expectation.
“I had a great time, too,” Reese had replied. “Sorry. Not feeling well today. Taking the day off.”
If Luca hadn’t had to go in that morning for a programmer meeting, he would have taken the morning off, too, to take care of Reese. Just the thought that he had someo
ne to take care of sent a thrill of happiness through his entire being. Then he pulled himself up short. One amazing weekend did not mean they were suddenly in a relationship. After all, Reese still had that guy, that “friends with benefits” he’d been hanging with since high school. For all Luca knew, Reese had played down the significance of their connection. Luca needed to keep his head where his feet were, instead of letting it float up into the romance clouds. His feelings under control, he typed back, “I’m sorry to hear that. Feel better! Maybe I’ll come by later and bring you chicken soup?”
After a several minute lag, Reese had responded with a smiley face emoji. That had been three hours ago. Maybe it was time to check in again. What if the guy was really sick?
Robert’s loud voice boomed suddenly through the office. “Everybody, we got the Clark account. Reese, where are you? Are you in the building? You did it. You cinched the deal. This is one serious chunk of change, my friends. Programmers, you’re going to have your hands full. Armstrong got us a huge account and now we’ve got to get cracking to deliver the goods. Reese, where are you?”
Luca grinned with delight at the news. Reese would be so happy to have landed his first big deal at last. He jumped to his feet and headed quickly toward Robert’s huge desk in the corner of the large warehouse. “Reese is out this m-m-morning,” he said to Robert, who was on his feet, scanning the space. “He wasn’t f-f-feeling well.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Robert said. He twirled the end of his imposing waxed handlebar mustache. “I bet this bit of news will perk him up. This client represents twenty percent of our business. I knew I was right to trust my gut on that kid.” He fixed his small, bright eyes on Luca, a knowing smile on his lips. “You and Reese are friends? How come you know he’s not feeling well? Is there something you’re not telling me? Should this celebration go beyond just business?”
Luca blushed hotly. Robert had taken Luca under his wing when he’d first joined Strata earlier that year. He’d invited Luca to a couple of his parties, making sure to invite other single gay guys, but Luca hadn’t been interested in any of them, and, to his relief, Robert had backed off. “J-j-just friends,” he said now, though he fervently hoped they were more than that.
Robert smiled. “Okay, then. It’s good to have friends, too. I’ll shoot him a text with the good news and see what’s up with him.”
Luca was immersed in a fascinating programming issue and ended up staying at work until nearly six that evening. He’d texted Reese occasionally throughout the day, and Reese responded, but only with emojis or single word replies. Worried now, Luca texted, “I’m coming over. I’ll bring dinner.”
He stopped at Max’s Deli and picked up a quart of chicken soup, along with some deli food. He was surprised as he pulled into the parking lot next to Reese’s apartment complex. It was a neighborhood that had seen better days. The way Reese dressed and comported himself, he’d just assumed he’d live somewhere fancy and upscale. But then, he recalled, Reese had just made the move from a job in construction. Maybe he’d used all his funds on that fancy wardrobe of his. Maybe the motorcycle was his only means of transportation. How did that work when the snows came?
Reese’s apartment was on the third floor. There was an elevator, but it appeared to be out of order. Luca took the stairs, the bags of food over both arms. He found the right apartment number and rang the buzzer beside the door, his heart kicking into gear at the thought of seeing Reese again.
Reese pulled the door open, his face lighting into a smile when he saw Luca. Luca grinned back. “Hey, you feeling better?” He peered more closely at Reese. Dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, he was barefoot, dark blond stubble on his cheeks. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy. “Man, you look like shit.”
Reese laughed ruefully. “Gee, thanks.”
Luca flushed. “No, I m-m-mean, you look t-tired. You okay? I hope it wasn’t the Mexican food.”
“No, it wasn’t that. I’m okay, really.” He sighed and then looked away. “I needed more of a mental health day.”
A twinge of unease tweaked at Luca’s innards. “M-m-mental health day?”
Still not meeting his eye, Reese said, “Yeah.” Then, looking back with a forced smile, he said brightly, “Where are my manners?” He took a step back. “Please, come inside.”
Something was up, but Luca would let Reese get there how he needed to. Meanwhile, Luca wouldn’t leap to conclusions about whatever the hell was going on in Reese’s head. He wouldn’t assume it had to do with the two of them. He held up his bags of food. “I brought chicken s-s-soup. My nana always prescribed s-s-soup for whatever ails you.”
Reese smiled. “That was nice of you. Thanks.”
Luca stepped into the studio apartment. It was just one big room with a futon bed in one corner, a living area in the middle and a small kitchenette off to the side with just room enough for a table for two. The place was nicely decorated, with wood and leather furniture in clean lines, thick, brightly colored throw rugs and framed abstracts on the walls, a stark contrast from Luca’s bland, generic space.
“Nice place,” Luca said sincerely.
“Thanks. I haven’t been here that long. Believe it or not, this is the first time I’ve had my own place. I had been sharing an old house with a couple of guys I worked with, but when I made the career change, I decided it was time.”
Luca followed Reese into the kitchen area and set his bags on the counter.
“Want a beer or something?” Reese asked, moving toward the refrigerator.
“Sure,” Luca agreed. “A beer would be great, thanks.” He set out the food as Reese brought cans of Coors, plates, bowls, silverware and napkins to the table.
“Wow. You brought quite a spread,” Reese said, grinning as Luca pulled corned beef and roast beef sandwiches, coleslaw, potato salad, pickles and the quart container of chicken soup from his bags. “Are we expecting someone else?”
Luca shrugged and grinned sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure what you liked.”
“I like all of it.”
As Luca came to the table, Reese finally reached for him. Luca stepped into his arms, his body relaxing in Reese’s embrace as they stood quietly together for several beats.
“Oh, Luca,” Reese said softly into Luca’s hair. “It’s really good to see you again. I missed you.”
Was that pain in his voice? Sorrow? Luca gently extricated himself from Reese’s arms and peered up into his face. “What’s the matter, Reese? What’s really going on?”
“What?” Again, Reese’s gaze skittered away. “Oh. Nothing. I mean, nothing I want to bore you with right now. Okay?” He looked back at Luca, flashing another smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
Luca let it go—for now. Reese would tell him whatever it was that was worrying him in his own time. Meanwhile, Luca wouldn’t jump to any negative conclusions.
They ate in relative silence, save for comments about the food, which, Luca was pleased to see, Reese seemed to enjoy as much as he did. When they were done and drinking their second beers, Luca suddenly remembered the great news about Reese’s first big client. “Hey,” he said, “I heard about your getting the Clark deal. That’s so great.”
Reese brightened, his smile this time genuine. “Yeah, right? That was such fabulous news. I was beginning to worry I didn’t have what it takes, you know? I’ve been at this job a while now, and while Robert pays a small salary to sales staff, I’ve been kind of freaking out about my finances.”
Luca was aware of the commission setup for sales staff. Each time one of them bagged a new client or a sizable new deal with an existing client, Robert would pay them a hefty commission, with bonuses to all staff when the job was completed. “I’m glad I’m on a regular s-s-salary,” he said. “I c-c-couldn’t take that stress.”
“Yeah,” Reese agreed. “It’s definitely not a job for the risk-averse. I was starting to think Hank was right when…” He abruptly snapped h
is mouth closed, color rising in his cheeks. “When friends said I’d never make it in this new career,” he finally amended. “Truth is,” he added with a rueful laugh, “that commission comes in the nick of time. I’ve pretty much run out of savings.”
Luca was surprised to hear Reese was hard-pressed for money. He had such nice clothes and exuded an air of sophistication Luca could only admire. Did whatever was going on right now with Reese have to do with this Hank guy? Was Hank more to Reese than he’d let on? Was that what this was about?
“Reese,” Luca said, forcing his voice to stay calm and neutral. “What’s g-g-going on? Is there s-s-something you need to tell me?” He held his breath, his heart twisting painfully in his chest.
Reese’s head snapped back toward him, his beautiful dark blue eyes wide. “What? No. I mean…” he faltered and then repeated, “No. Just something stupid.” He jumped to his feet. “It’s okay. Really. I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.” He walked toward the futon bed, which was covered with a black quilt with white geometric patterns on it.
Luca, too, rose from the table and followed Reese, confused but also relieved. Reese hadn’t yet confided what was troubling him, but neither had he blurted out that whatever was happening between them was a mistake and couldn’t go on.
Reese sat on the bed and patted the mattress beside him, indicating Luca should join him. As Luca started to sit, he saw the curious wall hanging above the bed. What looked like a riding crop and some kind of whip had been crisscrossed in an X against the wall. “Whoa,” he said, leaning in to get a better look. “What are these?”
Sudden fantasies leaped full-blown into his head. He’d often masturbated to porn videos involving D/s and BDSM. In his fantasies, he was the dominant one—strong and confident, totally in control. But he’d never actually bought any BDSM toys or dared to even bring up the possibility with past partners.
Dangerous Games Page 10
