Landon's Desire (Book Three of The Pulse Series 3) (2 page)

The life of a bouncer was the farthest thing from glamorous, but it kept him employed with the added bonus of a roof over his head and an endless amount of entertainment. Not to mention he got to work with Carl, the man was hot as hell and Landon had his sights set on taking possession of him in the near future.

Once on the busy street, Landon managed to get the girls to the waiting car, he opened the door just as one of the girls wrapped herself around his large bicep. She cuddled into his side staring up at his face, her eyes were bloodshot and blurred and her breath could peel paint.

“You’re a big fellow,” she slurred. “Come home with me, I know all kinds of things I’d like to do to you.”

“I’m flattered sweetheart, but I’m going to have to pass.”

Landon pried her off his arm, but she was on him again like a magnet to steel. He shook his head and grasped her wrist when she placed her hand on his crotch and squeezed.

“Get in the car, sweetheart,” he ordered.

“Good fucking God, it’s huge,” she said, smiling. “Laura, he’s fucking huge.”

“Into the car,” he told her, placing his hand on her head and tipping her into the back seat. “Rex will get you home safe and sound, have a wonderful evening Ladies.”

He watched the car drive off and laughed.

Landon decided he’d had enough fun with Carl for one evening, taking a post position in the farthest corner from the bar. He crossed his arms over is chest and leaned back, casually crossing one ankle over the other. The crowd was pretty tame for a Thursday night, bar a few, which gave Landon plenty of opportunity to study Carl, a distraction that was becoming habit forming.

Carl’s sleeves were rolled to his elbows, his skinny black tie hanging loose and the first button of his crisp white dress shirt was open, but sadly revealed nothing. His black pinstripe vest fit snug across his chest. From the way it fit his torso, it gave the hint of someone who took care of himself. He had mousy blond hair carefully cropped at the sides and back, nearly military, and the top was a mass of messy curls. Landon smiled at the thought of running his fingers through those curls and grasping tight while Carl’s head bobbed at his crotch. Landon’s eyes met Carl’s scowl and he shrugged his shoulders with a wink.

It wasn’t like he enjoyed pissing Carl off, he just enjoyed the way Carl reacted to him, the way he fought the idea of being gay and perhaps sharing something sexual with another man.

Landon remembered a time when he had fought his feelings, when the idea of admitting he felt things for other guys was terrifying, when all he wanted was to fit into the norm like all the rest of the male population. He’d slept with his share of women, and sure it felt good at the time, it just never felt truly satisfying, there was always something missing. He got off but was always left craving more.

Becky Hurst, his last female encounter, the woman he had slept with twice even though his routine was hump and dump was special, she could suck start a Harley. She loved sucking cock and he had talented fingers that could make her squirt at will. She also didn’t mind an audience, so while the guys watched her suck him dry, he was imagining their lips were the ones wrapped around his dick, getting him off. It was the day she told him she loved him that he knew he’d only been fooling himself. Landon couldn’t love a woman, not when he dreamed of naked men and jacked off to male on male videos.

He crushed her heart and walked away.

“Can I do something for you, Ace?” Carl asked.

Landon jerked from his thoughts, he was standing at the end of the bar, his eyes fixed on Carl’s chest, not sure how he got there but liking where his eyes were drawn to and smirking. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Find somewhere to be, I have a job to do and you’re distracting me.”

“So I
do
distract you,” Landon laughed.

“More like disturb, you get under my skin.”

“That’s a bad thing?”

“For fuck’s sake,” Carl sneered. “Go do something, put the fucking garbage out if you have nothing better to do.”

“I can think of a million things I’d like to be doing and none of them involve garbage.”

“Infuriating,” Carl snapped, walking to the opposite end of the bar.

Mikala was waiting with Carl when Landon returned from putting the garbage out. He had taken his time, allowing Carl time to miss him and his libido to calm itself down.

“Hey Princess,” Landon greeted her with a smile. “You don’t look good, hangover?”

“No Lando, I do not have a fucking hangover and thank you for the compliment. I have an upset stomach, ate something that didn’t agree.” Mikala glared. “Carl, can I have an OJ?”

“Sure thing Mik,” Carl said, pouring a small glass and handing it over the bar. “I hate to agree with the incredible hulk here, but he’s right honey, you’re really pale.”

“Incredible huh?” Landon wiggled his brow.

Carl snorted, turning his full attention to Mikala. “Ignore him honey, he’ll get bored sooner or later.”

“I don’t have time for you two and your bullshit today, I have a problem, and you Lando are going to fix it, you hear me?” Mikala barked her order.

“Princess, what’s got you all riled up?” Landon asked. “You know I’ll do whatever you want to help.”

Mikala took a sip of juice and held her stomach. “Yuck, I think the juice is off, it tastes like shit.”

“I just made that jug this morning,” Carl scowled, sipping from her glass. “There’s nothing wrong with the juice, your stomach must be affecting your taste buds.”

“Whatever,” she snipped. “Lando, you have a date at eight sharp.”

“I have a what, at when?” he asked, wide eyed.

“Connor has the flu, he can’t escort and throw up too,” Mikala said, holding her stomach. “Ginger ale, that’s what I need.”

“You want me to escort…me?” Landon pointed at his chest laughing. “I need a shot, Carl.”

Carl handed a ginger ale to Mikala and a shot of scotch to Landon, shaking his head. “He can’t be an escort the man has no training, besides he’s gay.”

“I’m well aware of Landon’s sexual orientation, thank you,” she snipped. “We do supply gay escort services as well as heterosexual, Carl. You do realize what century this is, get with it.”

“But he’s not experienced,” Carl said, pointing his finger at Landon. “What if he screws up? This could cost you a client.”

“It could cost me a very well to do client, if I turn him away.” Mikala said. “He’ll do fine. He just has to pretend it’s like any other date he’s been on.”

Landon slammed his empty shot glass on the bar. “
He
is in the room,” Landon snipped. “And
he
has had a few dates in his lifetime, which I might add went rather well.
He
is not some inexperienced Neanderthal, with knuckles dragging on the ground and drool slopping from his mouth. I’ve been told I clean up rather nicely and I know how to treat a man to a good time.”

“Lay off the testosterone, stud,” Mikala said. “Deflate that puffed chest of yours and listen to me.” Mikala took a sip of ginger ale and pushed it away. “I have faith in you or I wouldn’t be asking you to do this. This is not about sex. You don’t have to fuck the guy. All you have to do is pick him up at this address.” She handed him a slip of paper. “Escort him to a private dinner he has to attend and make sure he gets home, other than that, you’re on your own.”

“I can handle that,” Landon assured her.

Carl harrumphed.

“Do you have something you’d like to say, Carl?” Landon asked, tucking the paper into his pants pocket.

“Not a word,” Carl said, taking a tea towel and polishing a glass, a habit that he had when he was nervous or holding his tongue.

“Good,” Landon said, a smile creasing his lips. “Eight on the button, you can count on me.”

“What is that fucking smell?” Mikala asked, snatching the tea towel from Carl and covering her nose. “I’m going to be sick!” she hollered and ran to the ladies room.

“I better go after her,” Landon said.

“You have a date to get ready for,” Carl reminded him. “I’ll take care of Mik.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you when I get back?” Landon asked, hopeful that Carl would show him some sign that he was interested.

“We close at two,” Carl said, walking towards the ladies. “If you’re back before that, then yes.”

Landon grinned, he didn’t say no, didn’t even tell him to go fuck himself. “There just may be hope after all,” he whispered.

***

“You’re not at all what I expected,” The man with a proper British accent said. “What’s your name?”

“Landon.”

Hot as hell
, Landon thought.

“Landon what?”

“Just Landon.”

Sexy as hell smile, too.

“Well just Landon, come in while I finish a call, I’ll be but a minute.”

Beautiful blue eyes, has to be a top
.

“No worries,” Landon said, stepping past the man, watching as he picked up the phones receiver. “I’ll sit here if that’s okay.”

“As I was saying,” the man turned his back as if by doing so, Landon wouldn’t hear his conversation. “I expect delivery on the fifteenth, am I understood…one second into the sixteenth and the deal is off…once I have it in my hands and it’s been tested, then and only then will you be paid in full…have you any idea who I am? Should you choose to fuck with me, you will pay dearly…no more contact until delivery. Good day.”

The man who had shared a phone conversation moments ago with a vile temper and curt demands disappeared before Landon’s eyes. He was magically transformed into a smooth debonair gentleman, with a calm mellow voice and regal accent.

“So just Landon, shall we?” He gestured towards the door with the sweep of his hand.

Once in the limo, Landon asked, “What should I call you?”

“Call me by my name of course.”

“Which would be?” he asked, a bit put out by the man’s snotty, smartass attitude. At least the arrangement was for one short night and they’d never have to see each other again.

Offering his hand he answered, “Michael.”

“Nice to meet you Mike,” Landon said.

“Michael,” he corrected.

“Sorry…Michael,” Landon said. “You want to fill me in?”

Michael looked at Landon surprised at first, then grinned. “I beg your pardon?”

It took Landon a moment to realize his faux pas and he laughed. “Dinner tonight, your friends, colleagues, whatever they are. Tell me what our story entails; fill in the blanks as they say. How we met, when, where, the usual things people ask at parties. Or do you want them to know I’m from an agency?”

“I lead a very private life,” he started. “Therefore if asked a question I am not comfortable answering, I simply will not. The person I choose to share my evening with is no one’s business but my own. If asked, we are new friends getting acquainted one day at a time.”

“Okay, simple enough.” Landon agreed.

This Michael guy was obviously very powerful, when he spoke he seemed to draw everyone’s attention, people tripped over themselves to please him. Something wasn’t quite sitting right with Landon though.

The dinner party seemed strange, unlike any he’d ever been to before. People huddled in small clusters, whispering amongst themselves and no one seemed happy to be in attendance. It was a party but there was no music, no laughter and no entertainment.

During dinner, Michael was trying his hardest to get acquainted with Landon’s right thigh. His fingers drew a pattern of swirls as he tickled closer and closer to the targeted bulge in Landon’s slacks. Michael was clearly attracted, Landon not so much. He was uncomfortable and excused himself before dessert was served.

Landon flushed his face with water and took his time washing his hands. He walked out into the hall, taken by surprise when his back was slammed against the wall and Michael leaned his body against his. Not a smart move on Michael’s part, with Landon’s training he could have snapped his neck like a twig, lucky for him Landon was feeling more relaxed from the alcohol. They were the same height which allowed Landon to look directly into his eyes. He had striking blue eyes and dark hair, but Landon’s body mass was double if not more than Michael’s. By the feel of his chest pressed against his own, he could tell that Michael worked out, not to the extreme that Landon did, but he was solid.

“What took you so long, I was beginning to worry.” Michael asked, staring into his eyes. “I thought maybe you snuck out the back way,”

The idea was very appealing. Landon wished he had thought of that before finding the bathroom, he’d be halfway home by now.

Michael smelled of strong coffee and expensive cigars. It was a delicious combination but this wasn’t the man Landon wanted to smell it on, his thoughts kept turning to Carl and what he was doing at the club while Landon was having second thoughts about being an escort. He regretted agreeing to do the job, he should have told Mikala no. Now he was stuck between a rock and a hard on, literally, with no place to run. Clearly outweighing the man, he could merely shove him aside and leave, but he didn’t want Mikala to lose a client because he couldn’t finagle his way out of a bad situation.

“We don’t have to go back, we can find something else to do, somewhere else to do it,” Michael hummed against the shell of Landon’s ear. “I’m sure we won’t be missed.”

Michael shoved his hips forward, his erection pushing against Landon’s thigh.

“I don’t even know your last name and you want sex?”

“Briggs, Michael Briggs,” he whispered, licking his tongue along Landon’s jaw line. “You needn’t be shy with me. We can handle this many ways, a blow job or perhaps a mutual hand job, if you’re feeling particularly inhibited.”

“I was paid to be your dinner companion no one said anything about providing sexual favors.”

“I paid for a no strings attached escort to accompany me to a boring dinner party. I don’t pay for sex, Landon,” Michael whispered into his ear, feathering kisses along the side of his neck and down his throat. “You are a beautiful specimen and I just want a small amount of time to enjoy you.”

He winked.

Michael dropped to his knees on the floor between Landon’s legs, his hands ran up and down Landon’s muscular thighs, he growled as he put his mouth to the growing bulge in Landon’s pants and huffed a hot breath through the fabric.