Landon's Desire (Book Three of The Pulse Series 3) Read online

  “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, Mi
chael 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.

  “Oh…” Landon sighed. The fight was leaving him as pleasure started a slow tingle along his spine. It had been so long since anyone had paid him that kind of attention, Tristan was his last fling, and it felt good, he was caving fast.

  “So responsive for a man who protests,” Michael said, as he stroked over Landon’s erection. “Need I worry?”

  “What?” Landon asked, confused between the accent and the meaning behind the question.

  “I was guaranteed you are in good health, nothing for me to worry about?”

  “No,” Landon snarled, while Michael’s hands quickly opened his slacks and yanked them to his knees.

  “You’re a big boy.” Michael grinned licking his lips at the sight of a semi-erect Landon. “And you have a ways to go, let’s see what we can do about that.” Michael stroked him a few times, and then licked his greedy tongue up his length and through his wet slit at the tip of his bulbous head.

  “Fuuuuck,” Landon called out.

  “Shhh…we don’t want company, be nice and quiet,” Michael warned, sucking the head of his cock past his shielded lips.

  “Fuck…this is wrong,” Landon said. “This shouldn’t be happening.”

  A picture of Carl’s scowling face watching him as another man sucked him off, flashed in his mind. His head fell back, his eyes closed and he wove his fingers into Michael’s dense black curls, holding his head immobile as he fucked Michael’s mouth.

  Michael had a very talented mouth. His muscular tongue rippled on each back stroke and each time the head of Landon’s cock made contact with the back of his throat he swallowed, the muscles contracting in his throat sending tremors up and down Landon’s legs, making it difficult to stand.

  “Fuck yeah…take it all,” Landon moaned, as his fingers dug into Michael’s scalp and he rode his mouth hard.

  “Yeah, suck it Carl…suck me harder, make me cum,” Landon pleaded.

  Michael grasped the back of his thighs and took him deep into his throat and swallowed, the sensation was incredible.

  “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Landon warned.

  Michael sucked him with passion as Landon blew his load into the back of his throat and he consumed his seed eagerly.

  “Carl,” Landon whispered, on an exhaled breath, as he tried to regain some composure.

  “I don’t mind it a little rough, but ease up on the Carl thing, my ego bruises easily.” Michael laughed. “Into the washroom…I’m going to fuck you so hard.”

  Landon had never imagined fear at the thought of having sex, until now, the panic he was feeling was laughable. A hot layer of sweat shadowed his forehead and his chest tightened as he envisioned having this strange man inside him. He was trying to come up with a way to change this man’s mind, just as Michael patted his pants pockets and growled.

  “Condom, tell me you have a fucking condom,” Michael asked.

  “I don’t,” Landon said, relieved.

  “Are you opposed to going it bare back?” Michael asked, opening his fly and pulling out his cock, stroking it with a smile.

  Landon’s eyes widened. “Very opposed, there’s no fucking way I let you screw my ass without a condom, no fucking way!” Landon stood ready to pop him one, if he so much as laid a hand on him.

  “A blow-job then,” Michael demanded, stroking his cock. “Next time I will come prepared.”

  Next time?

  Landon raised his brow and froze.

  There was no way there would be a next time, this escort shit was a once and done deal. Mikala was never going to force him into doing it again. Not only was he regretting being there in the first place, he now had letting Michael suck him off to add to the growing list.

  “I’ll return the favor, but just so we’re clear, I don’t swallow,” Landon warned.

  The door handle rattled, followed by a loud knock. “Please hurry, I’m not at all well,” a timid female voice cried.

  “Fuck,” Michael cursed, tucking himself in and zipping up his fly. “I’ll be but a moment,” he called out.

  “How do we explain this,” Landon asked, as he finished pulling his look together, running his hand through his hair.

  “I explain myself to no one. Fuck her if she draws the right conclusion,” Michael snapped.

  The eloquently reserved Michael had been replaced with a sexually frustrated version, this version made Landon squirm in his boots. His eyes were dark and brooding, there was a violent storm stirring behind Michael’s glare. The man’s moods were multifaceted; he made no attempt to hide his colorful repertoire either. Landon wondered for a moment, as he studied his face, how the man would react when pushed to the edge.

  On the limo ride home, tears ran down Landon’s cheeks as his gag reflex was put to the test, reluctantly servicing a less than gentle Michael, not at all happy with himself or the fact that Briggs threatened him to get what he wanted.

  It wasn’t as if he and Carl were together, but the feeling of guilt was tearing him to bits. Landon longed to be with Carl, he went so far as to chant Carl’s name continuously while his mouth was filled by another man’s dick.

  Once back at Pulse, Landon was happy it was crowded enough to sneak past Carl. He was busy behind the bar and didn’t seem to notice him come in.

  Landon only just made it to his washroom before he threw up. His stomach heaved continually, barely allowing him time to catch his breath, until nothing more would come. There was a satisfying pain pounding in his head, serving as punishment for being unfaithful. He laughed at his asinine thoughts while rinsing his mouth continually with mouthwash. Carl didn’t even want him, could care less that he was alive, yet here he was feeling a need to be loyal.

  There wasn’t enough soap on the planet to scrub away the filthy feeling of Michael’s mouth and hands from his skin. He stood under the stream of hot water until his skin turned red like a boiled lobster, and his fingers and toes resembled dried prunes. He stepped into a pair of black boxers and climbed between the sheets, reaching for the remote and flicking through the channels.

  Nothing much caught his interest. He watched highlights from an auto race, Judge Judy as she tore into some poor son-of-a-bitch for not coming up with an answer fast enough and a full half hour of an especially bad Godzilla meets something or other movie.

  Just about ready to chuck the remote across the room, there was a quiet knock at his door. He listened for a moment. The music from the clubs had silenced and there were no voices or laughter from the adjoining rooms. As a matter of fact, it was rather peaceful. There was another quiet knock.

  “Ace, you home?”

  It was Carl, Landon was miffed as to why he’d come knocking. Something had to be wrong. He jumped from his bed and swung the door open, standing in nothing but his boxers as his eyes met Carl’s.

  “What’s wrong?” Landon asked.

  “I was checking to see you got home okay,” Carl said, looking everywhere but directly at Landon.

  “I did.”

  “How was it?” Carl asked. “What time did you get in?”

  Landon grinned. “Just after one mom…and it was alright.”

  Carl d
idn’t reply, standing with his hands in his pockets, shifting nervously from foot to foot. It was one of those awkward moments when neither one knew exactly what to say, but neither wanted to be the first to break the silence.

  “The food was good?” Carl blurted.

  “Not really,” Landon said, rubbing his hand over his chest, noting that Carl’s eyes were following his hand and purposely ran it across his stomach and into his waistband. He cleared his throat and Carl startled.

  “Good company?” Carl asked. “Get lucky did you?

  The question bothered Landon when he remembered what had happened after dinner and on the ride home, a suffocating feeling of disgust and disloyalty made him feel like hurling again.

  “Give me a minute,” he said, running into the washroom and landing on his knees in front of the toilet bowl. He had a severe case of dry heaves, he felt something cool at the back of his neck and found Carl standing behind him.

  “A cold cloth helps me,” Carl said. “Are you going to make it?”

  “This is exactly the way I want you seeing me, in nothing but my underwear with my head hanging in the toilet.”

  “Don’t worry about it, you’re sick,” Carl reassured him. “Maybe it’s food poisoning.”

  “No, it’s not food poisoning.” Landon took the wet cloth from his neck and wiped his face. He rose to his feet and located his toothbrush and toothpaste.

  “It could be, you never know, was dinner catered?”

  “It’s not fucking food poisoning!” Landon yelled, throwing his toothbrush into the sink and rinsing his mouth.

  Carl had the door open with his left foot into the hallway before Landon left the washroom.

  “Carl, wait,” Landon said. “I don’t mean to sound like an ungrateful prick, but I know it’s nothing to do with food, it’s something else.”

  “Well, I won’t ask,” Carl snarled. “See you tomorrow I guess.”

  “Carl, stay.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  Landon watched Carl race along the hall to the stairs, kicking himself because it was rare for Carl to seek him out for a conversation of any kind. To have him show up at the door was a first. Carl had never questioned if he got home, especially not from a night out before. But again, Landon had never gone out on a date before tonight. Was he detecting a bit of the old green eyed monster in Carl? Carl wasn’t pleased with Mikala sending Landon on a date, kept making the excuse that Landon wasn’t experienced enough to be an escort. Landon had to wonder if Carl might be warming up, ever so slightly, to him.