Landon's Desire (Book Three of The Pulse Series 3) (11 page)

“How do I go on Stevie? How do I make it without you?”

The pain was immense, the gut wrenching feeling of his heart as it shattered to pieces was paralyzing. He spent a week in an alcohol induced haze, and when he was finished with the pity-party, he cleaned himself up, brushed himself off and vowed he’d never fall in love again.

Watching Carl walk away and disappear into the house, he suddenly questioned himself, “Is this really what I want?”

“Lando,” Mikala’s voice woke him from his thoughts.

“Princess.”

“What just happened?”

A shrug of his shoulders, he looked around the backyard. The party was winding down, the group was growing quiet and he looked to the west as the sun was starting to set. The sky was layered in hues of blue, purple and pink and the air was starting to chill as the sun sunk into the landscape.

“He left,” Mikala informed him. “Care to tell me what happened?”

“Carl’s gay.”

“He said that?”

“And then he fucked off,” Landon said, wrapping his towel over Mikala’s shoulders. “Mik, I didn’t stop him.”

“Why not?”

“I just may be as freaked out as he is,” Landon said, scrubbing the stubble on his chin. “First I push him into admitting he’s gay, then I don’t want a relationship, how fucked is that?”

“Philophobia?”

“Huh?” Confused didn’t begin to describe the look on Landon’s face.

“The fear of falling in love.”

“Something like that,” Landon kissed her cheek and stood. “Keep it under your hat will you?”

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Mikala assured him. “Me and Sprout will keep your secret.”

“You and Sprout sleep tight. I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.”

“Hey,” Mikala grabbed his arm as he turned to walk way, handing him his towel, “fear is just a feeling, you
can
get over it.”

EIGHT

Theory of a Deadman’s
Blow
, was blaring from behind Carl’s closed door, the words,
I guess he’s off his meds again,
made Landon laugh. This certainly wasn’t the music he would have imagined Carl listening to, but he didn’t know a whole hell of a lot about him, yet.

About to try the door handle, after knocking continually until his knuckles burned, the door flew open. Carl stood dripping with sweat, the front of his white wife beater soaked through. The waist of his cut off sweats were drenched from his belly to his crotch. He slipped his left hand back into his black padded glove.

Landon licked his lips and smiled.

“What part of I need time to think did you miss?” Carl yelled over the music, trying to catch his breath.

Following Carl to the spare room, Landon watched him approach a blue leather punching bag hanging from the ceiling and throw a dramatic blow. He glared at Landon as he found a rhythm, punching relentlessly.

Sometimes it makes me want to blow my fucking head off,
sang from the stereo, Landon spun a chair around and straddled it, he was enjoying the view. Carl grunted with each strike, a savage rumble from deep in his belly as he beat his fists against the heavy leather sac.

A moment of silence between songs allowed Landon to finally speak, “So we’re not going to talk?”

“Nope,” Carl said, not stopping, keeping focused on hitting his target.

The next song took up all the space in the room with its pounding beat as Landon opened his mouth to speak. He decided to let Carl be, he’d only cause him to withdrawal further if he pressed him. Instead, he sat watching the man as his beautiful body glistened with sweat and each muscle flexed and rippled, and his breathing grew more labored as the blows intensified.

Once the
playroom
for Mikala and Mason’s kinky moments, Carl had managed to transform it into an out and out man cave. Along with his workout equipment, there was a wall of display shelves that drew Landon’s interest, he walked over to see; models of Nascar race cars sealed in glass cases running the full length of one, collector plates with images of Dale Earnhardt, Jeff Gordon, Mike Wallace, Tony Stewart and more, took up another, driver’s action figures in the original packaging, a tin lunchbox and thermos, miniature autographed helmets. You name it Carl probably had it.

Never into collecting anything, mainly because his mother wouldn’t allow clutter and would end up chucking it if it sat too long, Landon was impressed. There were autographed photos of the Rolling Stones, Beatles, Nirvana, Kiss, Queen, Korn and Maroon V complete with an assortment of framed guitar picks, there had to be a hundred.

One thing stood out like a sore thumb among it all, an autographed photo of Carl sandwiched between Placido Domingo and Luciano Pavarotti. Landon squinted to make sure he was seeing it right.

“Can’t find something else to do?” Carl growled.

Landon pointed at the photo with his brows raised, “Seriously?”

“Nothing wrong with a little culture in one’s life, my friend,” Carl snarled. “We’re not all uncivilized oafs.”

“Are you calling me an oaf, Carl?”

Carl couldn’t help grinning at the perplexed look on Landon’s face.

“Do you even know who those people are?” Carl asked.

Landon pointed to each person in the photo. “Domingo, Pavarotti and an
ass
.”

He then took the gloves from Carl’s hand and slid them on tightening the strap with his teeth, they were hot and damp with Carl’s sweat but that only added to the excitement. The first hit felt good and each one after felt better. Carl came over and hugged the bag, immobilizing the swing.

“You
will
get over it,” Landon said, noticing the music was much quieter as Apocalyiptica played.

“Get over what?” Carl asked, as Landon eased back his punches.

“The fear,” Landon said, copying Mikala’s words.

Narrowing his eyes, Carl helped Landon take off the gloves and tossed them onto the chair, he lifted a towel from the floor and wiped his face and neck. Landon took a corner of Carl’s towel and wiped his forehead and smiled.

“Why don’t we give this thing a try?” Landon asked. “We don’t have to call it a date, we can go for dinner, see a movie maybe?”

Carl shrugged his shoulders, acting somewhat disinterested, if not for the corner of his mouth ever so slightly curling, one would have been convinced.

Landon was not.

“I guess we could,” Carl said. “One date, but I’m not promising anything after that.”

Landon smiled as he turned towards the door, looking over at the collection on the shelves. He was going to sweep Carl off his feet; he would make sure there would be many, many dates.

“I have to make a call,” Landon said, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay,” Carl said, his eyes glued to Landon’s beautiful ass held snuggly in his faded jeans, with a tear positioned perfectly under the pocket, revealing smooth bare skin.

Less than twenty minutes later as Carl toweled dry after his shower, there was a knock at the door, no doubt Landon. Carl stood at the door and waited for a second knock, wanting to keep him waiting, he enjoyed seeing Landon flustered. It was sexy as hell. He shook his head, not believing he was thinking about Landon like this so soon after admitting he was gay, and opened the door.

Landon’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head at the sight of Carl standing with a black bath towel wrapped low on his hips. The delicious V at Carl’s hips sent a tremor of feel-good to Landon’s cock and he had to take a second to get a hold on himself.

“Thursday at three you’re mine.”

“Is that anyway to ask someone on a date?” Carl asked.

“Just say yes,” Landon grumbled.

This was the sexy flustered part of Landon that Carl enjoyed. “You’re a very bossy man, it’s a wonder you’ve ever been out on a date.”

“And in about two seconds, I won’t be going on this one either,” Landon spun to walk away, as Carl grasped his arm.

“Yes,” Carl said. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Landon told him, grabbing the waist of his towel and yanking him into his chest. “Dress comfortable…not this comfortable, although I’m liking the way you look in a towel.”

As Landon’s lips drew closer, Carl closed his eyes and said, “Jeans and a t-shirt comfortable?”

Whispering against Carl’s lips Landon answered, “Perfect.”

Closing his mouth over Carl’s, he pulled his hips forward as Carl hugged his arms around Landon’s neck. Landon’s thumbs brushed against the skin at his hips, warm and smooth and trailed around his towel to his back. Landon’s fingers spread open and smoothed up Carl’s skin to the nape of his neck and then into his hair. He tugged his hair and pulled Carl’s face back and licked across his chin.

“Good night,” he whispered.

“Leaving already?” Carl asked, fisting the front of his shirt.

“I need to go. I’m having trouble controlling myself. That’s a very flimsy towel and you’re getting a stiffy.”

Carl looked down at his own erection pushing against the terry cloth fabric. He shrugged, his eyes shying away, still grasping Landon’s shirt in his hands. Landon smiled when their eyes met and closed the door. When Carl didn’t protest, Landon walked him backwards until the backs of his legs made contact with the couch and his ass landed on the cushion. Landon dropped to his knees, put his hand on Carl’s towel and tugged. Carl’s lips parted, his breathing increased and a layer of goose bumps covered his skin.

Landon pulled his towel open. “Impressive package.”

Carl said nothing, he just swallowed. Landon watched his Adams apple move up and down. He knew he was scared shitless, it had been how many years since a man touched him? Landon planned on rectifying that, he wanted to show him the pleasure he was missing, actually the pleasure he was denying himself.

“If you want me to stop just say the word and I will,” Landon leaned forward pressing his lips to Carl’s belly, “I’ll never force myself on you…unless that’s what you want.”

He winked.

Carl gave a nervous laugh. “You can be such a jackass.”

Landon raised a brow. “I’m about to go down on you, with a mouth full of teeth, Babes, and you’re calling me names?” he ended the sentence with a shit-eating grin.

“When you put it like that, I suppose I should apologize.”

Carl palmed the side of Landon’s face, “Landon?”

“What?”

“I’m going to be a pussy and tell you I’m nervous as fuck.”

Landon smiled, stroking his fingers up and down Carl’s chest. “Close your eyes and relax, let me pleasure you.”

Grasping around his thighs, Landon yanked Carl’s hips forward so his butt was at the sofas edge, his semi-hard cock jumped and Landon licked across his chest to a nipple and sucked it into his mouth, circling it with his tongue. Carl let out a soft moan.

Mapping his tongue to the other nipple he nipped it gently, watching Carl’s eyes open, glazed and heavy.

Sensitive nipples
, Landon noted.

Continuing his pursuit, his tongue charted over his well-defined abs and into his navel, where he proceeded to swirl it around the delicate tissue, Carl jerked.

Erogenous zone
, Landon noted.

Guessing the trail of hair that led to Landon’s intended target to be coarse, he nosed through his perfectly man-scaped patch, only to find it was soft. The natural masculine scent of Carl mixed with the Bergamot oil that smelled of ripe oranges from before made Landon hard. He reached between his own legs and squeezed the head of his cock.

Alluring
, Landon noted.

Carl was getting harder, the length of him growing before Landon’s eyes as he nuzzled into the small patch of pubic hair and palmed his sac, which was surprisingly barren of hair. Landon liked this and gently sucked one of Carl’s balls into his mouth. Carl gasped and opened his thighs wider.

Responsive
, Landon noted.

Landon hummed, Carl moaned and Landon smirked, as he released him only to repeat the pleasure with his other ball. Carl wrapped his hand around his erection and Landon swatted it away.

Needs to learn the rules
, Landon noted.

Their eyes met, Landon winked, and then he ran his tongue up the length of him. Carl’s eyes fluttered but refused to close as Landon dipped the tip of his tongue into the pre-cum and swirled it about. Carl threw his head back and groaned, his hands balling up at his sides.

Landon licked a circle of saliva around his lips, fisted Carl’s cock and closed his mouth over the head, sucking as he stroked him. Looking up through his lashes he could see Carl straining to keep his hands to his sides. Landon took one of Carl’s hands and placed it at the side of his head. Carl’s fingers stroked through his hair, he was shaking; still nervous or shaking from the pleasure of the blowjob Landon was giving him.

As a tease to test him, Landon pulled back until the head of Carl’s cock sat at his lips and gently grazed his teeth against the frenulum, a hypersensitive spot for Landon; he hoped the same for Carl.

“Oh fuck…oh fuck!” Carl yelled.

Hot spot
, Landon noted with a smile.

Getting to know the intimate levels of Carl was going to be fanfuckingtastic, he couldn’t wait to explore more. But for now Landon was happy to explore this particular body part, happy to give Carl the indulgence he so deserved.

With the taste of Carl hot on his tongue, Landon decided to stop teasing and give him what he needed, and take what
he
needed from Carl. He wanted to taste all of him and pulled him deep into his throat and swallowed, the rippling effect had Carl bucking and moaning.

“Holy fuck Ace.”

“Mmm…” Landon moaned and Carl’s balls contracted, Landon increasing his pace and suction. The one thing about a man giving another man a blowjob was that he knew very well what worked.

Carl put his hand to Landon’s forehead and shoved, almost panicked. Landon swatted his hand away and stared up into Carl’s face. A look of carnal lust in Landon’s caramel colored eyes told Carl Landon’s intentions.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck…” Carl chanted, scrunching his face as if in immense pain and shooting his load into Landon’s waiting mouth.