Landon's Desire (Book Three of The Pulse Series 3) (12 page)

Tastes like cloves
, Landon noted.

Landon licked him clean and crept up his body, kissing him with such passion he didn’t dare break the connection just yet. He wanted more, needed more but forced himself away. Carl needed to be eased into Landon’s world, needed to be treated almost virginal. In fact, he was a virgin, Landon reminded his rapidly beating heart.

“You’re allowed to smile, Babes,” Landon whispered into Carl’s ear.

Carl frowned wrapping his arms around Landon’s midsection and hugging him tight. Landon slipped his arms behind Carl and brought him up to sit while hugging him back. It was the sweetest moment he could ever remember, sharing a hug was more than intimate, it was connecting on an entirely different level. It was nice.

“I…I can’t…” Carl started.

“Hey,” Landon pushed him back. “I don’t expect you to.”

Landon knew what Carl was awkwardly trying to say, he wasn’t going to let Carl feel like he had to return the favor, or that he had to do anything he didn’t want to out of obligation.

“Only if and when you’re ready, if ever,” Landon assured him. “Me giving you a blow job was something
I
wanted to do. I wanted to know the taste of you, to know how you felt in my mouth. I did that for purely selfish reasons.”

Landon grinned and hugged him tight.

“Silly fucker.”

NINE

The clock on the wall said he still had twenty minutes to wait. Carl stood nervously wringing his hands. He must have changed six times, wiped down the counters and sinks at least four times and polished the coffee table until he could see his face in the shine.

Actually, his stomach was so replete with knots at the thought of seeing Landon again he thought he was going to throw up and searched the kitchen for his bottle of antacid tablets.

The bottle was nearly empty because he’d been chewing on them like candy since Landon’s surprise blowjob. His cock twitched at the thought of Landon’s warm mouth sliding up and down his shaft. He adjusted himself and sat down at the kitchen island recalling the oral sex he had had with Tyler, there was absolutely no comparison to the way Landon worked his magic mouth. The man knew his way around a cock and Carl physically shivered when he remembered Landon’s teeth scraping over the head of his dick. And when Landon’s eyes had begged him to cum in his mouth, there was no holding back the most satisfying orgasm of his life.

There was a knock at the door pulling him from his thoughts, he didn’t hesitate to open it as he usually would and smiled at the beautiful beaming man leaning against the doorframe.

“Ready for our date, Babes? Or am I not allowed to call it that?”

Carl hugged him around the neck. He was a hugger and Landon couldn’t help wondering if he did the same in bed, after sex hugging had a certain intimate appeal he’d never deemed before now. He’d find out soon enough, hopefully.

“Fuck, I can’t get enough of you,” Landon tightened his hold around Carl’s waist. “You smell like oranges and taste like cloves, how the fuck is that possible?”

“You haven’t kissed me yet, how do you know what I taste like.”

“Not your lips, Babes,” Landon said. “Your cum. I detected cloves the other night.”

Carl laughed. It was nice to hear him laugh. Obviously a little sexual release was what Carl needed. If he had known that sooner, Landon would have offered to blow him months ago.

“I read somewhere once, that what you eat affects the taste of sperm.”

“Not only handsome as fuck, but he’s got a fucking brain to match, so it’s not true what they say about blonds?”

“Careful, Ace.”

“Come on, we can’t be late,” Landon said, taking Carl’s hand in his and running out the door.

Once in Landon’s truck, he leaned over and gave Carl a peck on the cheek. “I’d like to hear more about this diet thing later, what’s your favorite flavor?”

“Mango…why?”

“I’m looking to start a new diet,” Landon said. “You couldn’t say vanilla or chocolate?

“Drive Ace, we’ll be late.”

***

“The place is closed,” Carl said. “What are we doing here?”

“You’ll see.”

Landon sounded his horn and waited until the gates slid open and drove in bypassing the parking lot, he rounded a sheet-metal corrugated fence. They drove through a lit tunnel and onto a field beside a race track.

“What the fuck?” Carl asked. His face lit up when he saw a welcome banner with race flags on either side. “This is a race track.”

“Not just any race track, Babes,” Landon said, as he pulled up along a row of cars. “This is a practice track, used by some of the biggest names in racing.”

Carl looked out at the track, watching as several cars roared by, the feel of the engines rumbled in his chest, a surge of adrenaline rushed through him.

“You’re going to need these,” Landon handed him a pair of foam ear plugs and waited until he inserted them. “Come on, we can watch from over here.”

Carl followed as Landon led the way, surprisingly acquainted with the place. They came to a wall close to the pit, watching the cars as they flashed by with a deafening fury. Carl’s heart was racing with excitement, he felt like a kid seeing snow for the first time, waking on Christmas morning to find Santa left that shiny red bicycle he had begged for all year long. It was the thrill of a lifetime being this close to something he admired and had dreamed of for so long.

“Incredible,” he said.

“Kyle!” a voice called from behind them.

“Simon, old man, how’s it going?” Landon asked, shaking hands.

“Never better,” the man said, dressed in bright red overalls with
Simon Sez
over the breast pocket.

“This is Carl Ward,” Landon introduced him. “My friend I was telling you about.”

“Carl, nice to meet you,” he shook Carl’s hand. “I hear you’re a big Nascar fan.”

“Huge, Simon,” Landon said, placing his hand on Carl’s shoulder. “His collection of Nascar shit puts yours to shame.”

The duo turned to Landon in unison with a doubly insulted stare. Obviously he didn’t get the whole memorabilia thing. Growing up around gas fumes and motor oil wasn’t all it was made out to be, his father spent more time there than anywhere else. Landon felt an obligation to the drivers and their crews, this was the only reason he kept the place after his father passed away. He assigned Simon the position of Manager, Boss, head honcho, in other words it was Simon’s problem.

“Nascar
shit
?” Carl asked, clearly offended.

“You know what I mean,” Landon squirmed.

“Don’t be too hard on him, Carl. He’s been around all this for so many years that sadly, he’s lost interest.”

Carl eyed Landon standing with his hands in his pockets, giving a shoulder shrug.

“His old man owned the place since his early twenties, Landon practically grew up on the track,” Simon said, as a car roared up alongside them. “Still can’t understand why he’s not a professional driver.”

“Let’s not do this,” Landon said, throwing his arm over Carl’s shoulder. “This is Carl’s day, not mine.”

A body climbed out of the driver’s side, Simon helped remove his helmet and stood holding it while he pulled off his fire sock.

“Holy fuck,” Carl said, his mouth gaping open at the site of Martin Andrews himself, standing in front of him holding out a hand.

Andrews, a three time Nascar winner, had long ago retired but used the track on a regular basis. He ran summer camps for troubled teens and several fantasy camp programs for those willing to pay the exorbitant fees to dream for a few hours, all proceeds going to charity.

“You have to be Carl, Landon’s friend,” he supposed.

“It’s such an honor to meet you, Mr. Andrews, I’m a huge fan.”

“It’s nice to meet you too kid, call me Martin,” he said. “How about we get you suited up and we can take her for a spin?” He pointed to the car his team was working on.

Carl looked at Landon, a silly ass grin spread across his face, “Landon?”

“Go, I want to see you behind the wheel,” Landon winked.

Carl took off with Martin and a member of the pit crew and Landon stood smiling with his hands in his pockets, getting a charge out of Carl’s excitement.

“This guy must mean a lot. You’ve never brought anyone here in all the years I’ve known you,” Simon said.

“I like the guy and he’s so gung ho about Nascar, I couldn’t deny him a chance to experience it first hand, he’ll go to his grave remembering this.”

“Yep, it’ll be one of those stories he tells the grandkids,” Simon laughed, with a hearty slap on Landon’s shoulder.

Dressed in all the gear, looking very much like an official driver, Carl donned his helmet and Landon watched from the side lines as Martin and his crew gave instructions. After nearly an hour, it was time to drive. Carl climbed in, he was locked into the cars safety harnessing and the car roared to life.

While Martin climbed in the passenger side, Carl looked over at Landon who gave him double thumbs up and the wink Carl was beginning to love.

The car pulled away slowly, Landon knew how nervous Carl had to be. A few laps later his speed had increased. Landon could see the confidence in his driving changing with each round, although he was clearly avoiding the wall, never getting more than halfway up the track. Landon knew the feeling the first time he drove, nerve wracking and downright scary. The last thing you wanted was to scratch up a million dollar car that you didn’t own.

Landon had tried his hat, with his dad’s encouragement, at driving. He was good, had a great deal of potential and was persuaded by Martin among others to pursue a driving career. But it just wasn’t something he could see himself doing for a living. One minor crash and he called it quits.

When Carl finally climbed from the car and removed his helmet and fire sock, he was rambling on with the crew and drenched with sweat. He smiled over at Landon and the sparkle in his eyes gave Landon’s heart a punch. Carl was a beautiful man at the best of times, add to that a pinch of perspiration and a dash of exhilaration and Landon wanted to eat him alive.

Landon realized in that moment, that this was the man he’d been waiting on for all of his life, his soul mate. Carl was the one person with enough energy and enthusiasm to keep up with him, strong enough to keep him in line and bold enough to tell him no. But most of all, he was the one person that Landon could love whole-heartedly. His mind was telling him to be weary, not to let the inevitable happen, but his heart was drawing an entirely different conclusion.

Carl was
the
one
.

“Well, how was that?” Landon asked, a small amount of fear suddenly settling in his gut at the thought of Carl not feeling the same about him.

“Oh man, I can’t begin to thank you,” Carl said, the eagerness pouring from him.

“Better than sex right?” Simon joked.

Carl looked to Landon and he roared with laughter at the look on Carl’s face. What a beautiful mess the man standing before him was, such an unnecessarily complicated individual. His shell was going to be hard to crack, but Landon looked forward to showing him a lifestyle with the promise of unconditional love. If he’d only surrender completely to Landon’s will.

“We better let these guys get back to work,” Landon said. “We have makeshift dinner reservations for seven.”

“That’s two hours from now,” Carl said, looking at his watch.

“I can tell time, Babes,” Landon said.

Carl’s eyes widened at the term of endearment Landon used in front of the group of men. It bothered Landon that it bothered Carl so much. Landon knew who he was, his friends knew who he was and accepted him one hundred percent. Carl needed to get a grasp on his sexuality and be proud of the lifestyle he was embarking on, to stand proud as a gay man and admit who he was. Landon would talk to him over dinner, there was no chance of running away then.

“This is for you,” Martin said, handing Carl a jacket.

Covered in sponsor logos, the jacket was autographed in silver marker,
Carl, Thanks for the day at the track, Martin Andrews.
Nothing could have topped that moment for Carl.

A chest hug, manly slaps on the back and Carl was sitting in Landon’s truck shaking his head in disbelief.

“So, the track belongs to your father?” Carl asked.

“Did,” Landon said, pulling onto the highway, heading south. “He died a few years back, it’s mine.”

“I’m sorry,” Carl said sadly, his father didn’t talk to him but at least he was alive. “I can’t believe you don’t spend every spare minute there.”

“Thanks, I miss him a lot,” Landon said, with his eyes on the road ahead. “It belongs to me but I’m not really into it.”

“If I owned a race track, you’d never see me.”

“It’s a practice track and good thing you don’t then,” Landon put his hand on Carl’s thigh. “Are you ashamed of me?”

“What?” Carl asked, the question catching him completely off guard as it came flying out of left field.

“You didn’t like it when I called you Babes, are you ashamed?”

“I like when you call me that…I’m not ashamed of you, I’m just not ready for you to call me that in front of other people, it’s too soon.”

“Sorry, I should have known better,” Landon said, reaching for Carl’s hand. “I’ll slow down and try to control myself around others, but when we’re alone I make no promises.”

Carl chuckled. “I don’t know why, but for some reason I believe you.”

“Look Carl, I can be pushy and demanding as fuck. I like things my way and if I feel passionate about something…or someone,” he rubbed his thumb across Carl’s knuckles. “I can’t help showing it.”

Carl smiled. “I get that, I do… I just need a chance to catch up, do you understand?”

“Catch up to what?”

“I’m getting this all wrong,” Carl said, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “My head and my heart aren’t on the same level…I’m…I’m all fucked up…My heart’s saying go for it, but my brains telling me this is all kinds of fucked up,”

To simply yield and give in to his heart would be so easy, in fact it’s what Carl wanted most, but in the back of his head lay a mountain of fear. What if he gave in and it ended in disaster again, he’d lose his mind. He was truly caught between a rock and a hard place, wedged right in with a decision to make that could and would change his entire world. Would it be the greatest resolution made or the beginning to an end? Fear choked him as he chewed at the inside of his cheek.