“Answer me Carl,” Landon demanded.
“It was a kiss.”
“Why?”
Carl shook his head, lifted the bottle of Jack to his lips and sucked back at least four shots worth.
“You don’t need any more of that shit, liquid courage is a cop out, tell me why Carl, tell me what you want?”
“I don’t know.”
Landon walked to the sink and proceeded to pour the half empty bottle of Jack down the drain.
“We live in a club with two fully stocked bars and a wine cellar,” Carl said. “If I want to drink it all you can’t stop me.”
“Smartass doesn’t look good on you, Babes,” Landon said with a smile. “You need a clear head right now. Think about what it is that you want. Are you or are you not attracted to men, to me? Is there a place in your life for me or would you prefer to find yourself a woman to share your time with?”
“Ace.”
Landon touched his index finger to Carl’s mouth. “These aren’t questions you answer on a whim. You gotta search your soul my man, dig deep and when you think you have the answers, dig a little deeper.”
SEVEN
It had been two weeks.
Two weeks of living hell, while Carl pondered his mediocre, run-of-the-mill life.
Two weeks of observing his reaction to every female and male that walked in the joint, only to find himself comparing them to Landon.
No one smiled quite the way he did. No one said hello in the sultry trans-like tone that he used. No one walked across a room the way he did. No one wore clothing quite as well as him. Even sharing the same air in a room wasn’t the same, unless it was graced by Landon’s breath. And not a living soul had penetrating eyes like Landon’s. It was an impossible task to fill his shoes, no one could do it.
And Landon? Well…
Landon had been avoiding him like the plague. He’d come into a room only to see Carl and leave again. He kept his eyes focused on the ground and all conversation seemed to be relayed through other members of staff.
Carl tried not to take it personally, knowing Landon was just giving him space to think, but as much as he tried it still hurt.
He had gotten so used to Landon and his mindless flirting, his annoying comments and smoldering stare. Now that it was gone, he missed it more than he could imagine missing anything else. What he’d give to hear Landon call him Babes.
***
After marking a bright red X over the fifteenth day on the calendar, Landon sneered at the marker and heaved it across the room, as well as his coffee mug, the newspaper that was now torn to shreds and the contents that once sat on the well-appointed desk.
He lay on the bed with his arms pillowed under his head and his ankles crossed casually, staring up at the ceiling. He was sick to death of the four walls surrounding him and was actually looking forward to Mikala and Mason’s pool party today. The only thing that worried him was making it through the day at the same party as Carl and trying desperately to give him the room he needed.
All too aware that it was his fault for creating the hiatus between them in the first place, he knew it was for the best, although certainly not his best.
Landon rolled onto his stomach, covering his head with his pillow.
Such a fuck up, he told himself.
Thinking he was hearing things, he ignored the knock at his door. A second knock forced him to get up.
“Give me a sec,” he called out.
Rex and Tiny, named for his gargantuan body mass, were standing at his door clad in neon striped swim shorts with towels around their necks.
“Need a ride to the party?” Tiny asked.
“I’m good, thanks anyway.”
“Haven’t seen you around much lately, where you been hiding?” Rex asked.
“I’ve been here, just keeping busy,” he explained, without going into any kind of detail. “There’s always something to take care of around here.”
Landon searched through his drawers, located his green swim shorts patterned with bright yellow pineapples and tossed them on the bed beside his towel.
“I guess I’ll see you there then,” Landon said, hoping they’d head off and let him alone with his miserable self.
“We’re stopping by the beer store do you want us to get you anything?” Tiny asked, as he squeezed through the doorway.
“Again, I’m good.”
“See you there.”
***
Landon volunteered for barbeque duty, the one job that no one else wanted, since it required cooking over an open flame while baking in the noon day sun.
Carl volunteered to tend bar, creating fancy cocktails in coconut shaped glasses with every tropical fruit imaginable skewered inside.
It also helped to keep them at a distance, however someone forgot to remind their eyes of this fact.
Landon flipped a burger, had a look.
Carl strained a drink into a glass, had a look.
It was comical.
“Lando,” Mikala said.
“Hey, Princess,” Landon said, holding up his spatula. “Burger, hotdog or a sausage?”
Mikala shook her head, scrunching her nose. “You fellas are getting way too much sun, squat down and let me get some sun block on you. You’re going to look like a lobster soon.”
Landon stared over at Carl remembering the story of his summer job roofing, but from where he stood behind the bar, his scar was hidden and he was shaded, no fear of sun burns today. He sat on a cooler of pop while Mikala applied a generous amount of lotion to his shoulders and back, it was a welcome soothing feeling on his baking skin.
Mikala finished and then wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. She rested her chin on his shoulder and whispered into his ear. “Take your ass over to that pool there and have some fun, this is a fucking party, not a funeral.”
Landon snorted and Mikala tightened her hold on his thick neck. “The pregnant bitch has spoken, it’s my party and you’ll do as you’re told, now move it.”
“Aye, aye boss lady.” Landon stood, taking her with him, and depositing her into her husband’s arms. “I believe this belongs to you.”
“Yes she does,” Mason kissed her cheek. “Doesn’t my beautiful wife look especially radiant today?”
Landon laughed. “She certainly does, she’s really got that pregnancy glow happening,” he said, tweaking her cheek. “I see a deckchair with my name written all over it, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Remember, you’re here to have fun!” Mikala warned.
“Fun,” he mimicked.
Relocating his deckchair to a shady area, he draped his towel over it and reclined to a comfortable position, he donned his sun glasses and closed his eyes. He listened while everyone else had fun. A rousing game of water polo created enough noise to wake the dead, or at least piss off every neighbor for miles. The occasional splash of water and the roar of laughter and screams didn’t disguise the tranquility he was basking in.
He had been feeling off his mark, not all together worth being around since telling Carl to get his shit together, hence the reason for avoiding everyone. After reaching the two week point, he was convinced Carl had made his decision, he only wished the guy had told him he wasn’t interested. One text, a single phone call, even a short too-bad-so-sad I don’t want you, across the bar, would have been better than nothing at all. But then again, Landon wasn’t giving him much more.
An invitation into the house to see the nursery left a peaceful moment of silence as the party moved indoors. Landon wasn’t the cooing over baby shit type and remained where he was. The dark tint of his glasses helped, most everyone thought he was asleep to his relief. There was a gentle breeze, birds chirping, a dog barking off in the distance and the sound of the waters surface rippling as the pump quietly hummed.
Now this is relaxing, he thought.
Either the sun had been shadowed by a cloud, for which Landon couldn’t recall there being any, or a body had moved be
tween the sun and Landon. Cautiously, he opened one eye and held up a hand to block the brightness.
Carl was standing at his feet, an intense expression on his face.
Lifting his glasses to get a better view, Landon hummed his approval, as his eyes lazily swept over Carl’s body, from the top of his dripping wet curly hair, to the tips of his sexy bare toes.
Yummy…to say the least.
He was wearing fitted boy-short trunks, navy blue with a gold stripe across one hip. He was very well endowed and thanks to the tight spandex fabric, everything God blessed him with was snuggled into one tight package. Landon was happy he chose loose fitted shorts or the dirty little thoughts creeping around in his head would be clearly exposed.
Landon licked his lips and put his glasses back down. Playing it cool, he folded his arms over his chest and tucked his palms under his arms to stop the ache of his puckered nipples. The man was fucking hot and Landon was having a tough time resisting the urge to yank down Carl’s trunks and take him into his mouth.
“Mind if I join you?” Carl asked.
“Do as you please,” Landon said, in as casual a tone as he could manage while appearing unpretentious in Carl’s presence.
Expecting Carl to bring over a chair, or slide another deckchair beside his, Carl spread Landon’s calves apart until his feet hit the ground on either side of the seat and Carl plunked his ass on the end of the lounger, between Landon’s thighs.
“Comfortable?” Landon barked.
“Yes, thanks.”
Landon reached back and raised the head of the deckchair and rested back. “There are other chairs.” Landon waved to a few of empty folding chairs off to the side.
“This will do just fine.”
Carl lifted his beer bottle to his lips and took a long haul, staring vacantly into the pools crystal clear water. Landon could see he was contemplating his words and decided to give him the time he needed, pillowing his hands behind his head and closing his eyes.
Fifteen days of silence and all Carl could offer now was more? Landon imagined grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking the shit out of him, when he finally opened his mouth.
“Ace?”
“Yes?”
“I’m not confused anymore,” Carl said, watching as some of the party guests came from the house careening into the pool, keeping his focus on them.
“No?”
“No.”
“So you know what it is you want then?”
“I think I do,” he said, still making no attempt at eye contact.
“Look at me, Carl.” When he didn’t Landon added a bit more demand to his tone. “Carl, look at me.”
“I know what I don’t want,” he said, glancing briefly at Landon.
A bikini clad blond, one of the kitchen staff’s dates, sauntered by swinging her hips suggestively looking in Landon’s direction. He was oblivious to her seductive charms, far more interested in what Carl had to say.
“I definitely don’t want that,” Carl lifted his chin in the bombshells direction. “She doesn’t do fuck all for me.”
“Nothing?” Landon asked, skeptically.
He knew Carl had been with women in the past, it had to have done something for him to give it all those tries. If Landon didn’t like the answers Carl gave him, he was going to throw the bi-sexual card into play and make him aware that he wasn’t into dipping his Willie into multiple pools.
Carl shook his head. “Not a thing…I’ve spent two weeks sniffing my way around an ocean of female-sex-on-stilettos and I can honestly say, my dick didn’t so much as twitch once.”
“That’s an interesting interpretation,” Landon laughed, with a sigh of relief. “But what exactly do you mean when you say sniffing around?”
Carl harrumphed. “Observation only, jackass.”
“Jackass?” Landon raised a brow under his glasses, Carl probably didn’t notice. “So women are off your list, does that mean…”
Landon stopped, didn’t want to get his hopes up. Just because Carl didn’t want to sink his dick into pussy, didn’t necessarily mean he was choosing to sink it into a man’s ass. Maybe he wasn’t as enlightened as he thought.
“I spent just as much time observing men,” Carl said, using his fingers to make quotation marks in the air when he said observing. “I only came to one conclusion.”
Landon sat forward and slid his glasses to the top of his head. He was giving this one hundred percent of his attention. He’d waited fifteen days for this. He rested his elbows on his knees leaving barely any distance between them.
“What was that?”
“No one compared to you,” Carl impishly grinned. “I’m afraid there’s just no one like you, Ace.”
“Afraid?” Landon asked. Feeling like his heart was going to burst from his chest, he was so happy.
“Scared shitless,” Carl admitted. “I don’t know what to do. Finding enough courage to tell you this much nearly gave me an anxiety attack. I can’t even think of what comes next.”
“This comes next,” Landon wrapped his hand around the nape of Carl’s neck and pulled him into a kiss.
It wasn’t as if this was their first kiss, but Landon put everything he had into it as if it was. He wanted Carl to feel as much as he did.
Landon lolled Carl back laying him across his lap, his tongue slid along the seam of Carl’s lips urging to enter, begging for a taste. Carl finally surrendered wrapping his arms around Landon’s shoulders and opened a crack. Landon searched out Carl’s tongue with his own flicking tip to tip, leaving them both breathless. Carl tasted of beer and lime and Landon wanted more, wanted it to last forever. Landon was gentle but demanding, realizing he had to go easy on the man, this was practically a first, he released the kiss.
Parting enough so as to catch their breath, they turned towards the pool expecting an audience. But their friends didn’t seem to notice or didn’t much care. Either way, Carl swiftly sat up placing his hand over the bulge in his trunks, his cheeks red with embarrassment.
“You okay Carl?”
“Um…I think so,” Carl stood. Landon grasped his wrist so he couldn’t go anywhere.
“Maybe we can go on a date or something?”
“Holy fuck,” Carl said, panic constricting his chest. “It’s too soon. Let me get used to the whole idea of being gay before I jump right into a relationship. I need time to think.”
Landon let Carl’s hand drop.
Whoa, no one said anything about a relationship. Landon’s own chest constricted with that comment, the word relationship had been stricken from his vocabulary years ago. Landon Kyle did not do relationships.
He sucked, he fucked and moved on.
Monogamy was for other suckers, been there done that, only to end up alone.
Full military-style honors, a twenty-one gun salute, Police from all across the country in full uniform demonstrating unity, honor and brotherhood for a fellow police officer struck down needlessly, as bagpipes played Amazing Grace.
It was all too much for Landon, after the service he sat in his empty apartment wondering what happens now. The life he had shared with Steve was gone with the shot of a single bullet, just one single round tore Landon’s entire world apart. He’d do anything to make that night disappear.
When the bottle of Patron was empty, the last drop burning its way to his belly, he wiped away his tears and heaved the bottle at the wall. Tiny shards exploded like glittering fireworks, sprinkling to the floor. He held Steve’s photograph to his chest.
“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?”
&nb
sp; “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's Desire (Book Three of The Pulse Series 3) Page 8
