Hurricane Reese Page 3

  “I can’t thank you enough for being here.”

  Jude looked down at their hands together and paused. The timer beeped loudly, announcing the soup was ready, and made them both jump. Jude pulled his hand back and held it almost as though he’d been burned.

  “I’ll get this ready for him. Will you please rouse him from sleep and help get his tray set up? Oh, and it’s almost four. He likes to watch Ellen while he has his supper.”

  Now why didn’t I know that? Reese scolded himself that he hadn’t paid more attention to the notes Jude left for him. He stood with some effort, trudged into the living room, and patted Grandpa’s shoulder.

  “Hey, old man. Time to eat.”

  Grandpa sat up and blinked a few times. “Help me to the can, son.” Reese helped Grandpa out of the chair and down the short hallway to the bathroom. The two bedrooms were off to either side of the bathroom, and he cursed when he realized how messy he’d let things get since Jude left.

  He waited in the hall until Grandpa was finished, sort of swaying on his feet and wishing he could fall into bed. Jude stepped into the living room with the bowl of soup for Grandpa.

  “Is that noodles I smell, Jude my boy? Hot damn. I love that stuff. You got any of that hot sauce? I like it hot. Yes, indeed. Son, you gotta try this sauce Jude here puts in my soup. It’ll burn the hair off your balls,” he said and cackled as he sat slowly back down in his chair.

  Jude shot Reese an amused look and then frowned at him. He hurried to Grandpa’s chair and made sure he was comfortable. Then he held the bowl for Grandpa and waited for him to get situated. Grandpa tucked a cloth napkin into his collar, held his spoon up in his hand, and licked his lips as Jude set the bowl on the tray in his lap.

  “Here you go, Mr. Matheson. I’ll go grab the sriracha for you.”

  Reese watched Jude do that thing where he practically floated through the room, his feet not even making a sound on the floor—unlike his own heavy stomping that used to drive his grandmother crazy when he visited them as a kid. Damn, he missed that lady.

  Chapter Five

  REESE WAS still standing in the same spot by the bathroom looking as though he were ready to drop at any moment. Once Mr. Matheson was settled and the TV was turned to Ellen, Jude made his way to Reese’s side in the narrow hallway. Reese seemed to take up all the space and probably all of the oxygen in the room.

  “Why don’t you get some rest, Mr. Matheson? I’ll stay and care for your grandfather until I need to leave for my class at seven o’clock. I can have my aunt come and sit with him then, if you like.”

  “No, that’s all right. I just need a couple of hours. I can’t thank you enough, Jude. He’s so much better when you’re here.”

  Jude looked down at his feet. “It’s my pleasure. He’s a wonderful man.”

  Reese stretched out his massively long arms and groaned as he arched his back and yawned. “I feel like I could sleep for a week. Thank you. And I’ll, ah, clean up when I wake.”

  Jude raised an eyebrow when he got a glimpse inside Mr. Matheson’s room for the first time since he’d moved out. He gasped at the piles of clothes everywhere.

  “Ohjesuslord,” he said quietly. He glanced out at his charge and then glared at Reese. “He’ll trip over those clothes. You can’t leave things on the floor. Sometimes he doesn’t look where he’s going and….” He brought a hand up to his forehead as he realized just how far gone the well-kept world he’d created really was.

  “I know. It’s a lot to keep up, and I get distracted,” Reese said.

  Jude shook his head. He started to pick up clothes and place them in the hamper. But he felt Reese’s presence behind him and became flustered. Does he even know how he affects people?

  Oh, right. Sure he does. Women threw themselves at him. Men too. Jude wondered how many of the stories he’d heard were true. He knew Reese had lived with a woman for a couple of years before he came back to the home he bought for his grandfather. But Jude had also heard from some of his theater friends that Reese didn’t discriminate when it came to who he shared his affections with. He was discreet, but there’d been talk. Some even thought the girlfriend was for show, for his career, but he’d seen them during a few dinners with his grandfather and watched how attentive Reese was with her. She was standoffish, but Reese catered to her every whim. Mr. Matheson didn’t speak fondly of her, though. Jude chuckled to himself as he remembered one very spirited diatribe Mr. Matheson had spouted after a Thanksgiving meal.

  “That little wench wouldn’t know a hit song if it slapped her upside the head. Can you believe her sitting up here in my house telling me that tribute show in Vegas was the best live performance she’d ever seen? Has she never seen my grandson? That boy can sing circles around all of those performers out there. And the quality of his music? Fuhgedaboutit. He learned at my knee, and I wouldn’t have pushed him so hard if I didn’t think he had star quality. That little artificial brat is using him.”

  Jude let him carry on, only because he knew that, after one of his rants, he’d usually take out his frustrations on the piano, and Jude was his biggest fan. He’d play for hours and tell Jude stories about all of the songs and what was happening in his life when he’d played them.

  “What’s so funny over there?”

  Jude turned around and dropped the clothes he’d just picked up. Reese was standing in the doorway, shirtless, holding a towel in one hand and leaning against the doorjamb.

  “Oh, just um… nothing. Did you need something?”

  Reese smiled broadly, as though he’d caught Jude stealing cookies from the cookie jar. “I’ve never heard you laugh before.”

  Well, if that didn’t just make things awkward?

  The men stood staring at each other. Reese’s smile grew wider, and Jude’s discomfort increased rapidly.

  “I’m just going to shower, and then, if you really don’t mind, I’m going to nap. I appreciate this, Jude. I’ll be up in time for you to make it to class. Are you working on your degree?”

  Jude nodded as he bent to pick up the clothes he’d dropped. “Trying to finish up my RN. I take at least one class each term, whatever my schedule and finances will allow.”

  Reese frowned and shifted his weight, which caused his iliac furrow to flex under his tanned skin.

  Could he please hide that broad chest? And that V-line? Or just do the world’s hormones a favor and go shower? Get out of my sight? Jude struggled to maintain his carefully crafted composure.

  “Won’t it take you forever doing it that way?”

  “I’ll make it. I need to work.”

  Reese didn’t know how much that was true. Jude’s younger siblings stayed with their aunt, uncle, and grandmother, and Jude pitched in to pay for their private Catholic school. He had no living expenses while he lived with Mr. Matheson, so he’d been able to swing their tuition, no problem. It would break his heart if he couldn’t pay and they got stuck returning to the public high school. They’d have to give up their passion—color guard—which would devastate them.

  Jude looked at his watch and hoped it would kick-start Mr. Shirtless Wonder into his planned shower and nap. Anything would be better than being trapped in the room by those shoulders. And his hands… they were so big.

  Reese hovered a moment longer and then moved back.

  “I’ll just go—”

  “Yes. Fine. Thank you.” Ugh. Keep. It. Together.

  Reese chuckled as he closed the bathroom door… and began to sing.

  REESE STOOD under the hot spray and wished it could wash away not just the muck of his situation, but also his guilt, shame, and frustration. But then a new feeling cropped up. Lust.

  Damn. Watching Jude move about the house with his graceful way was intoxicating. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear Jude was a dancer, he was that elegant. He wasn’t very tall, maybe five six or five seven, but he had a build that reminded Reese of the men in his show. That got Reese thinking about Jude in tighter cloth
es, which led to fantasizing what he’d look like naked, which led to an almost-painful erection. Was he really contemplating jacking off in his grandfather’s shower thinking about Jude? Yeah, that’s exactly what he was about to do.

  Reese had been celibate for at least six months. His tour schedule kept him away from opportunities probably even more than the repercussions of a private tryst going public. He and Jada had an arrangement while he was on tour—just don’t get caught. They loved each other in their own way and had pretty phenomenal sexual chemistry, but their relationship was more for show. He liked having a built-in “plus one.” She liked being built-in and liked sharing his spotlight. An aspiring actress, she wanted what he had to offer—connections and money.

  Unfortunately, while attending a benefit in London, he’d been photographed with one of the actors in his musical. They weren’t even in a compromising position, but it had been enough to fuel rumors about their relationship. He had no problem allowing Jada to save face by throwing him out. The paparazzi had eaten up the show and given Jada the exposure she wanted so desperately. She even received a call from producers of The Marrying Kind. Reality TV. That thought made Reese cringe, but whatever made her happy and kept her from asking for any more money was fine by him.

  No. What would really make Reese happy would be to get through the controlled exterior of the enticing young man occupying space in his home. Reese couldn’t care less that their ten-year age difference might cause a stir. He wanted Jude. He wanted to watch him come apart, preferably under Reese’s own greedy hands. He began to stroke his own tender flesh, which was made even more sensitive from months without the touch of another. He cupped himself, groaned at the feel, and imagined Jude’s skin likely felt as smooth as his own. He rested one arm on the shower wall and allowed his tension to build and build. Pictures of Jude bending over to help his grandfather, cutting vegetables, rolling his shoulders after carrying in the laundry, all flowed through his mind and acted like an aphrodisiac. Reese wanted to massage those shoulders and feel what he’d only briefly touched earlier in the kitchen.

  “Oh God,” Reese moaned as he imagined what he could have done if they’d been alone and not in the middle of a crisis. He’d have loved to slide Jude’s scrubs down and run his hands over his strong body—a body that had been teasing him for the longest time. The way he moved was almost erotic. Sensual.

  Reese began to shudder as he felt his orgasm forming at the base of his spine, his fantasy now moving way out of any realm of appropriateness. He pictured spinning Jude to face him and falling to his knees before him, finally discovering what he could do to make the stern young man lose his mind. As he saw himself leaning forward and taking Jude into his mouth….

  “Fuuuuuck,” he roared as he came and came into the spray of water. Whimpering moans came from his throat as the waves of pleasure rolled through him. He’d apparently had a lot built up. Either that or he wanted Jude even more than he’d previously thought. If he wasn’t careful, his curiosity and lust were going to turn into obsession with a man he barely knew anything about. Which could go wrong. Very wrong. But would feel so goddamn—

  “Reese? Are you all right?”

  Reese slipped in the shower at his surprise and caught himself by the ledge of the window, but not before he knocked the shampoo bottles over and the handheld nozzle loose. The heavy metal showerhead crashed down on the bridge of his nose and sliced the thin skin. Blood poured down his face, and he groaned from the pain. As he sank to his knees in the shower, Jude burst into the bathroom.

  “JESUS, MARY, and Joseph. What have you done to yourself?” Jude’s voice was barely above a whispered, so horrified by the sight in front of him that he could hardly move. The blond Adonis knelt awkwardly in the shower stall, covered in blood like a scene right out of Psycho.

  “Can you just hand me a towel? Preferably not the cream one?” Reese spoke from behind cupped hands covered in blood.

  Jude rushed into action like the professional he was and forced himself to forget that his crush was naked in front of him like some perfect Greek statue. He grabbed a navy blue towel from the rack with one hand as he pulled open the glass door with the other.

  “Thank goodness you didn’t come crashing through this,” he murmured as he knelt to assess the damage. “Move your hands, Reese. Sit back against the wall.”

  Reese did as he was told and allowed Jude to see his wound. Jude hissed at the sight of Reese’s perfect face marred with a good-sized gash across his nose. He was certainly not a registered nurse yet, but he knew enough to ascertain that the cut could probably be closed with Steri-Strips. “Press this firmly to stop the bleeding.”

  He turned from Reese and attempted to ignore his semi-erect penis lying exposed. Jude focused on the task at hand, rather than his own physiological reaction to being so close to all that naked flesh. He stepped into the hallway and dug around in the linen closet until he found what he needed—an extra towel to cover his distraction, an instant ice pack, and bandages. He returned to the shower and casually dropped the towel in Reese’s lap.

  Jude knelt beside him once more, sat back on his haunches, and ignored the water seeping through his scrubs. He pulled the towel away and used some gauze to clean the area.

  “I can bandage this well enough, but if the bleeding doesn’t stop, I’ll have to take you to the ER.”

  Reese cursed under his breath. “What a fucking disaster. I’m sorry, Jude. I’ll be all right.” He laughed at himself. “I really did a bang-up job, didn’t I?” His chuckles grew into belly laughs.

  Jude shook his head, unable to hide his smile.

  “Let me just try to close this up,” he said as he leaned over Reese’s body to apply the strips to the wound. He pushed up on one knee, and the knee holding his weight slipped. Jude lurched forward and sprawled across Reese’s broad chest.

  “Whoa,” Reese said with a laugh as his arms came up to catch Jude’s weight. Reese’s smile faded into a lust-filled gaze. He tightened his hands on Jude’s arms, and pulled him closer. Their faces were inches apart and Jude could feel himself trembling.

  “Does this really work for you, Mr. Matheson? Making people fall for you?” Jude’s sarcastic tone belied a nervous reaction. Reese must have picked right up on it as his voice was husky when he spoke.

  “Why are you shaking, then, Mister De La Torre?”

  Jude scrambled to his feet and backed out of the shower just as the elder Mr. Matheson hollered from the living room.

  “Jude, my boy. I need the remote. Ellen’s over, and it’s time for the news.”

  The senior Matheson’s voice acted as ice-cold water on them both. Reese’s eyes widened, and he covered himself with the towel as he stood. Jude frowned as he noticed blood seeping from the bandages.

  “That’s not going to work. They’re gonna need to glue it,” he said quietly and reached up to dab at the blood with some tissue. Reese caught his hand with an awkward smile and took the tissue from him.

  “I’ll take care of it.” He turned to look in the mirror. Whatever the hell that moment had been, it was long gone, like the steam from the shower.

  Jude hurried into the living room to see to Mr. Matheson. As he approached him in the chair he cursed.

  “Where’d all that blood come from? Who’s hurt?”

  “Reese had an accident in the shower,” Jude said as he handed Mr. Matheson the remote and carried away his tray and soup bowl. “I think he may have to go to the hospital and have his nose looked at.”

  “Damn it all to hell, Reese. What the hell kind of clumsy stunt did you pull this time?”

  Reese came down the hallway in a pair of loose sweatpants that exposed the waistband of his Diesel briefs.

  “Hey old man, you’ve got more scars than me. Admit it.”

  “Sure I do, but that’s because I boxed in the Navy. Not because I pranced my pansy ass all over a stage in those tight pants that crush your balls.”

  Reese barked out a la
ugh that sounded like a cross between embarrassed and annoyed. “Yes, well, not all of us have led such a colorful life—Jersey street fights, the Navy, boxing, working for the mob, pounding the keys for Frank. How can anyone possibly keep up?”

  He shook his head and then took an elastic band from around his wrist and began to pile his hair into some complicated twist that ended with that ridiculous-looking man bun once again. Jude wanted to hate it—hate him. Too bad he was so stunning, that his chest had been such a tempting place to fall, and that his charm was going to land Jude in some serious trouble.

  The last thing Jude needed to do was screw up his reinstated job working for a wonderful, if not a little intolerant, man and get his heart broken in the process. Jude didn’t do casual. He didn’t invest himself in anything or anyone halfway—which was precisely why he remained single at twenty-two. He’d been content to care for Mr. Matheson, work with his brother and sister, and attend school. Luckily his family had always been supportive of him, and he never wanted to bring any sort of embarrassment upon them. His father and uncle were very involved in their church and community, and they didn’t need a gay son/nephew. Discretion was Jude’s first rule of thumb when it came to getting involved, and Reese didn’t have an ounce of discretion to speak of. Just look at the debacle of his last breakup.

  And he’d been staring the whole time. Jesuslordgodinheaven.

  “I should take you to the emergency room.”

  Reese was still holding the towel against his face.

  “Come here, son,” Mr. Matheson gestured for Reese to come closer for his inspection. Reese pulled the towel away and showed his grandfather that the blood was not stopping.

  “Well, hell. It’s just a scratch. I’ve had worse. That should close up with just a bandage, or does my grandson need a cute little nurse to kiss it and make it all better?”