Landon's Desire (Book Three of The Pulse Series 3) (7 page)

“I’m not playing escort again, I thought I told you no more.” Landon lashed out.

“Whoa cowboy, I remember. No men involved,” she assured. “My client’s daughter is getting married, it’s her bachelorette party, he’s out of town on business, wants someone to keep things under control. Easy-peasy. He’s paying over and above the regular fee, tips are your own.”

Landon and Carl glanced at each other.

Deep down Landon was all for having a night out with Carl, Carl on the other hand was deep into panic mode.

“I’m game,” Landon chirped up, a smile as wide as a football field spread across his face.

“What about the bar?” Carl asked.

“It’s covered.”

“Come on Carl, it’ll be a blast, nothing funnier than a room full of drunk chicks making asses out of themselves,” Landon joked, biting into his bottom lip feigning terror.

“Why the fuck not, what’s the dress code?” he asked.

“Suit and tie, the whole men in black look will be perfect, minus the glasses of course.” Mikala instructed. “This is the address, you pick them up at nine o’clock, an Escalade limo will be supplied.”

Carl drove, he liked acting as chauffeur, liked to show off his baby was more like it. He drove a classic canary yellow 1969 Chevy Camaro. Landon was more than happy to allow him the privilege of carting him around. As they drove into the more rural part of town, things started to look sickeningly familiar as the houses got grander in wealth and scale. As they pulled up to the iron gates and Carl sounded three sharp beeps of his horn as instructed and the gate clunked into gear and started to open. Landon’s heart started to race, his breathing hitched and perspiration soaked his brow. The stretch limo was waiting in the driveway. Carl pulled the car alongside a row of high-end vehicles and reached for his door handle.

“Wait,” Landon said abruptly, latching onto Carl’s jacket tail.

FIVE

“Ace?” Carl asked, turning to see Landon staring at the house front, a look of trepidation in his eyes. “What’s got you spooked?”

“I can’t go in there,” Landon said, shaking his head, “this is Briggs’ house.”

Carl looked at the front of the stone house, each window brightly lit and the sound of music playing behind the walls. It looked like any other house whose owner was dripping with money. Carl wondered how Landon knew this Briggs person.

“Who’s Briggs? That names not familiar to me.”

After a sufficient hesitation, Landon’s eyes dropped to his hands, he rubbed them together as he spoke, “He’s the guy Mikala had me escort…the night didn’t go well.”

Remembering Mikala saying Landon had had a bad experience that night Carl had to wonder if Mikala knew the entire story. She couldn’t have known, she’d never intentionally be so cruel. Or else Landon had played it off as no big deal, made it out to be less than it really was. Carl didn’t know him well enough to tell, but Landon was clearly not happy, he looked like he wanted to hit something…or someone. Uncharacteristic to say the least, he was normally the fun one, the joker with a smart mouth. The one everyone else went to when they were in need of someone to listen without the fear of being judged.

“Let me call Mik and then we’ll get out of here.”

“No,” Landon said, sucking in a deep breath and blowing it out through puckered lips. “I have a job to do, no fuckers going to stop me from performing my duties, I’m a professional.”

He climbed from the car, straightened his tie, buttoned his jacket and nodded to Carl.

“We good?” Carl asked.

“All’s good,” Landon answered, as they walked to the front door and rang the bell.

“P & P Security,” Carl announced to the well-dressed, tall blonde that greeted them.

“You’re late,” she said, with a French accent. “Right this way, gentlemen.”

As they followed her down a set of stairs, along a hall of closed doors, the music thundered louder in the air until they arrived at the one open door. A dozen or so, on their way to being wasted already, women all dressed to the nines stood waiting.

“They’re all yours, keep them safe and make sure they all come back.”

Carl laughed, “They couldn’t be safer with us.”

Landon gave him a no-shit look and laughed. “You have no idea how safe.”

“Mr. Briggs was very clear with his instructions,” she said. “Your job is to keep them safe and happy and hands off.”

“Oh,” she said, remembering a forgotten point. “No one brings anyone home.”

“That’s a given. What about Mr. Briggs?” Landon had to ask.

“You don’t worry about him, he won’t be home tonight. He’s out of town on business. You worry about the girls only.”

She was gone in a flash, as if she couldn’t get away from the place fast enough. That left Carl, Landon and fifteen crazy half-drunk women.

“This should prove interesting, I best give Mik a call and let her know we’ve arrived,” Carl said, taking his phone from his pocket and creating a careful distance.

“Mik, we’re here,” he announced. “Why would you send us to Briggs’ house knowing it would upset Lando?”

“I was assured Briggs wasn’t going to be there, I figured if he faced his, whatever it was, he’d maybe get over it faster.”

“A shrink you’re not Mik, he’s not very pleased.”

“I’m sorry. I honestly thought he’d be fine. Tell him I’m sorry will you?” Mik asked, before the call ended.

“Mik says sorry, she wasn’t thinking.”

“Uh huh.” Landon snarled. “Let’s get on with it. I just want to get the fuck out of this house.”

All in all, the girls were behaving themselves sitting front row and center around a glittering stage, while Zorro rotated his hips suggestively and they tucked dollar bills into his g-string. Landon was entertained watching men get naked and watching Carl pretending not to notice the hot numbers dancing from all four corners of the room.

“Ladies!” Landon yelled. “Enjoying your evening?”

A unified hell-yeah roared from the group as a server came with another round of drinks.

Landon stepped back to join Carl against the side wall, as an ear piercing scream echoed in the room. He snickered and stood where he could get an unhindered view of the beautiful male stripper named Inferno, and remain safely out of the way.

“Are you enjoying the show?” Landon asked Carl.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Smoking should be outlawed though, what a stink.”

Landon smiled, knowing the guy was full of shit. Before Landon spoke he was enthralled. Carl was just as interested in seeing a little hot male skin as he was. His eyes were following a short blonde stripper dressed as a cop, as he trailed his palms from his chest to his g-string and his fingers dipped inside, Carl’s Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed trying to overcome his enthusiasm…Landon was watching Carl. Taken by the way his eyes brightened the hornier he got, Landon grinned at the sight of Carl’s swollen member pressing against the zipper of his pants. An impressive package, Landon took a side step closer.

“It’s okay to get a boner, especially if they’re doing their job right.”

Carl glanced over at Landon, a nice tent formed in his dress pants. He caught a gleam in Landon’s eye, catching his gaze fixed to the bulge in his pants. Carl frowned.

“Relax, Carl, it goes with the territory, no one else need know.” He laughed when he saw Carl step nervously from foot to foot.

“I did a stint as a bouncer in a go-go club in Toronto, Canada, it was a nightly thing to walk around with a chub on,” Landon laughed. “I went shopping the first week for a jock strap to help conceal it.”

Carl shook his head trying to appear nonchalant, a hint of a laugh hidden behind a scowl.

“I’d get home and have to soak in a tub for an hour just to get it back to its original shape.”

Progress Landon thought, when Carl openly laughed. If only for a second, it was a laugh denoting a bit of tension had released.

“What was the worst job you ever had?” Landon asked, wanting to get to know more about Carl, the mystery man and give the guy an opportunity to relax.

“Roofing,” Carl said. “It was only for one summer, but I spent it feeling like a lobster, my skin was burnt to a crisp, I was sure I’d look like a leather boot for the rest of my life. I even have a scar to remind me that manual labor is for the birds.”

“You burned that bad you scarred?”

“No,” Carl snickered. “I lost my footing and fell off the roof, after sliding down five feet of asphalt shingles.”

“Ouch,” Landon sympathized. “Pretty scar?”

“You tell me.”

Carl pulled his shirt-tail free exposing a 4x6 misshapen patch of skin along his ribs, raised and a slightly darker shade than his tanned skin.

“Doesn’t look so bad,” Landon said, bending to get a better look in the dim light.

“No, it could have been worse. The cool thing…? It feels like shark skin.” Carl said.

Landon raised a brow. “And what the hell does shark skin feel like?” he laughed.

“Just like this,” Carl said, grabbing Landon’s hand and running his fingertips over the scar, without giving it a second thought.

His scar was warm to the touch and felt rough like the finest grade sandpaper. Landon’s heart skipped a beat, his breathing hitched and his eyes darted to Carl’s. He caressed his fingertips along the scar and didn’t stop until they met smooth unblemished skin.

“So that’s what shark skin feels like, eh?” Landon asked. “Nice…very nice.”

Carl let Landon’s hand fall away and quickly tucked his shirt back in, moving his focus back to the strippers, who were giving the bride-to-be a special lap dance. She sat grinning with bright red cheeks, as did Carl.

Once back at Briggs’ house, Carl and Landon managed to get the girls to settle down, entrusting the remainder of the evening to the house staff. Landon went in search of requested water for a few of the girls, looking for the kitchen.

Curiosity was killing him as he came to an open door of what appeared to be a study, office mix. Papers sat on a large walnut desk like a beacon summoning him in for a closer look, what harm could it do just to have a peek. The letterhead belonged to Voronov Shipping, the invoice promised delivery of four shipping containers on the fifteenth. Landon remembered Briggs talking to someone regarding a delivery. Content description stated car parts in each container, no brand, no year and no serial numbers. Something smelled fishy.

Water in hand, he stepped into the hall. His eye shot to a red light in what he presumed to be a motion detector, he determined there had to be a security system, a house this size didn’t go unprotected. The one thing that Landon worried about was cameras. Maybe his plan to nose around wasn’t such a smart idea after all. If asked, he’d make the excuse of getting lost.

He couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of the place and started down the hall when he heard footsteps behind him and turned.

“Well if it isn’t Just Landon,” Briggs said.

Landon’s jaw tightened, his fist balled at his side and a queasy feeling settled in his belly. “Mr. Briggs.”

Briggs stepped closer, he had a condescending smirk on his face and it took everything Landon had not to grab him by the throat and choke him.

“That’s rather formal don’t you think, after what we shared?” Briggs asked, stepping past Landon into the office. “Come, have a drink with me.”

“Thanks but no thanks, I have to get back to the ladies, I have a job to finish,” Landon said, yet found himself following.

Briggs removed his jacket, throwing it over the back of a chair he leaned back against the desk and loosened his tie. “There are two of you, let your colleague take care of things for a while.”

“I was told you were out of town.”

“And now I am not.”

“Mr. Briggs.”

“Michael.”

“Mr. Briggs, I’m here to do a job, if you’ll excuse me.” Landon said, and started down the long hall, his stomach churning.

“Landon,” Briggs called to him from the doorway, “I will get what I want, your avoiding me is futile. I
always
get what I want in the end.”

Landon spun on his heels, deciding to face the man and tell him exactly how this was going to turn out. Better to be clear from the start.

“Mr. Briggs, I am
not
interested. What happened…will
never
happen again.”

Throwing his head back, Briggs laughed like a demonic psychopath. His evil laugh didn’t surprise Landon at all. He had experienced firsthand the evil that spewed from this man like acid. He was a vile character, obviously used to people falling at his feet for the honor of being used as his personal doormat.

Landon was having none of it and turned his back on him.

“Goodbye, Mr. Briggs.”

“Until we meet again, Landon,” Brigg’s laughed. “And we will most definitely be seeing each other again.”

“Landon,” Carl called, from the end of the hall. “Party is wrapping up, I could use a hand.”

“Be with you in a minute, Carl.” Landon said, keeping his eyes on Briggs.

Briggs brushed imaginary lint from Landon’s jacket sleeve as he spoke, maintaining a composed arrogance. “You be a good boy now, see that those girls are tucked in.”

“Consider them tucked, we’re leaving.”

Landon wasn’t wasting another moment trying to convince Briggs that what happened in the back of his limo was never going to happen again and he wasn’t giving him the opportunity to try something with him again. Threat or no threat, Briggs was shit-out-of-luck if he thought Landon would roll over and play silly bitch for him again.

“Who was that?” Carl asked, as Landon walked past him.

“Briggs.”

Carl’s eyes widened, knowing the reason Landon had an angry glare slapped across his face. Not sure whether to push, he braved the question.

“What did he want?” Carl asked.

“Nothing,” Landon’s eyes dropped to the floor. “Absolutely fuck all.”

“He was supposed to be away,” Carl announced, as if Landon was unaware. “Are you okay?”

Landon wasn’t okay, he wanted to tear Briggs from limb to limb, wanted to hurt him. But he wasn’t going to share that fact with Carl, wasn’t about to admit that he went down on Briggs because he was threatened. That same nauseating feeling he’d experienced each time he was reminded of that night left a bitter sick feeling in the back of his throat. If he didn’t want to throw up again, he had to change the subject quickly.