Hurricane Reese

Jude tried to keep the tremor from his voice. “I’m perfectly sane. One could ask you what you’re doing outside before dawn shouting at me.”

Reese blanched, leaned closer, and rested his arm on the roof of the car. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been doing this since I came home.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” Reese asked, his voice growing more tense by the second.

“Okay, I won’t tell you that,” Jude replied and bit his lip to keep the nervous laughter at bay. He might have lied when he said he was perfectly sane.

“Why are you smiling? You have been, haven’t you? Dammit, Jude. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Any trace of humor evaporated. Jude raised his eyebrow at Reese.

“What would it have mattered to you? You’d already made up your mind to move in. I was in the process of finding a place when you asked me to come back,” he lied.

“But your family—”

“My family has their hands full. They’re already caring for my brother and sister.”

“You have siblings? Where are your parents?”

“In the Philippines. Reese, what are you even doing out here this early?”

“I was just going to run to the store and grab some coffee. We’re out. And I knew you’d be here soon. I just didn’t know you were already here.”

Reese peered around the inside of the car, furthering Jude’s embarrassment. He looked in the back where Jude had been sleeping and noticed all the neat piles of clothes and books.

“You know, most people who live in their cars are like trolls. Even your piles of clothes are color coded. Hey, you own jeans. I was beginning to think you only wore scrubs.” He chuckled, and Jude’s embarrassment turned to anger. He reached over to pull the door closed, but Reese blocked him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Reese asked, the humor fading from his voice.

“I’m leaving. What does it look like?” Jude tried to tug the door shut, not even concerned about smashing Reese’s perfect hands. It would serve him right.

“The only place you’re going is in the house. No wonder you’ve been so exhausted. You’re going to come in, shower, and get in my bed.”

Jude’s eyes flared, and he started to argue, but Reese held a finger up to his lips.

“As much as I’d love to join you there, now’s not the time. We’ll just take turns. Now grab what you need. You’re moving back in.”

Jude pulled away. “You can’t just order me around. You—”

Reese snaked an arm around Jude’s back and pulled him in for a kiss so quickly that a very stunned Jude could only open his mouth to object before Reese’s tongue filled it. Shocked, Jude tried to push him away, but Reese scooped his other hand under Jude’s ass and pulled him forward to bring their bodies flush against each other, Jude’s legs spread against Reese’s hips. When Jude would have fought harder, Reese bit down on his lower lip and growled low in his chest.

Kissing Reese was everything Jude feared it could be—overwhelming, intoxicating, and probably addicting. Jude forgot about all the reasons he shouldn’t be kissing Reese, slid a hand around his back, and pressed their chests impossibly close together. Jude couldn’t help smiling when Reese moaned his appreciation. Reese may have started the kiss, but Jude met his enthusiasm, stroke for stroke. A sort of quiet chaos built between them as they each finally gave into a chemistry that Jude didn’t quite understand. How could Reese make him so angry, turned on, grounded, and upheaved all at the same time?