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

by Rose, Jennifer

  “I could get used to this, Babes you’re spoiling me.”

  “Answer the phone,” Carl said, and sat beside him with his own sandwich and coffee.

  A marred expression appeared on Landon’s face. He looked at Carl apprehensively and put the phone down on its face, then took another bite and chewed while the wheels turned silently in his head. Carl watched and waited.

  “Three guesses who that was,” Landon finally spoke.

  Carl knew. Briggs was the only one that could put such a poisoned look on such a beautiful face. The man was the epitome of all things evil. Carl didn’t like the idea of Landon taking him on, even with the police force behind him, and the fact that he used to be a cop himself. Briggs was a dangerous man who would obviously stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Carl hated that Briggs wanted what was his.

  “What does he want this time?” Carl snarled.

  Landon touched his hand to Carl’s cheek. “Easy does it, Babes, I haven’t looked at the text yet, he could be telling me he doesn’t want to bother me anymore.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Do you have any idea how fucking horny you make me when you get all primal?” Landon licked his lip seductively.

  “Read the text, Ace,” Carl said, picking apart his sandwich and popping a slice of crisp bacon into his mouth and chewing, as he watched Landon pick up his phone.

  Landon read it out loud. “Since you won’t attend my daughter’s wedding with me, at least come to the rehearsal party. Saturday night, it will be a casual affair at my home.”

  He sent a text and turned to Carl. “I told him I’d let him know, I need to talk to Johnson and see what we can set up.”

  “I notice he didn’t tell you to bring a guest,” Carl tilted his head with a scathing look pasted on his face.

  “Come on,” Landon said, taking Carl by the hand and leading him along the hall. “I need a shower and you’re joining me.”

  “Let me clean the kitchen first,” Carl pulled away, proceeding to the kitchen when Landon lifted him off his feet.

  “No, I want a shower now,” Landon told him, the demanding side of him hijacking the moment. “The mess will still be there when we’re done, we can clean it together. You get the towels and I’ll start the shower.”

  “Yes sir,” Carl saluted.

  “Dolce and Gabbana...fancy,” Landon said, standing under the spray of the shower head opening the cap and taking a sniff. “Yep, that’s the smell.”

  “What smell?” Carl asked, setting the towels on the counter and opening the glass door.

  His eyes scrutinized Landon’s body intently, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes and came to rest on the apple firm cheeks of his ass. He had the most outstanding gluteus maximus. Carl just wanted to sink his teeth into it, and gave him an appreciative caress as he climbed in behind him.

  “This is what I smell when you’re near, this and oranges. It’s fucking wild.”

  Taking Carl’s hand, he poured a generous amount of body wash into his palm and the same into his own. They took their time washing each other, their chests and backs, legs and arms and then soaped each other’s cocks and rocked their hips in unison until they were breathless and thirsty.

  Landon reached his soapy hand around Carl and lathered between the cheeks of his ass paying extra attention to his puckered opening. His finger slipped in and out as Carl groaned, closing his eyes and licking a trail along Landon’s collar bone up his neck, over his chin and then melting his mouth to Landon’s.

  Their tongues delved between each other’s lips, while the sound of heavy breathing and groans echoed within the walls of the shower stall. Carl pulled Landon into a bear hug and trailed his finger down Landon’s crack and shoved his soapy finger inside his hole. For several long, steamy minutes they played like this, exploring each other.

  Carl bit into Landon’s bottom lip and listened to his growl, enjoying the nip of pain. He knew Landon was into more than the subtle taste of vanilla, he clearly enjoyed a variety of flavors, and Carl shivered at the possibilities.

  “I’m ready to get out of here, you coming?” Carl asked, turning off the taps and opening the door.

  Landon’s hand wrapped around Carl’s throat as he exited the stall, stopping Carl from moving another inch, he pressed into his back, his hard length forced against his thigh.

  “Not yet,” Landon whispered, his lips making contact with the lobe of Carl’s ear. “But I will be.” He nipped his ear and walked him out of the room.

  The sensation of Landon’s hand grasping his throat, the slight tingle of excitement along his spine as Landon’s hold tightened ever so slightly and Carl knew he was owned.

  Reaching the beds edge, Landon toppled them forward, landing his full weight on Carl, who grunted and Landon rolled them onto their sides. He peppered kissed on the nape of Carl’s neck and ground his erection against Carl’s ass.

  Stretching his arm back around Landon’s head, he turned his head back and kissed him then spoke against his mouth, “Fuck me, Ace,”

  “Don’t have to tell me twice,” Landon said, sliding his hand under the pillow, emerging with lube and a condom. “On your belly, ass in the air,”

  “Very demanding,” Carl said, getting into position.

  “Very quick to submit,” Landon countered, as he squeezed lube onto his fingers and rubbed it along Carl’s seam.

  Landon grinned and bit into his lip as he pushed a finger into Carl and listened to his moans.

  “You like?”

  “I like.”

  He slid in another finger and a third, scissoring them as he found a rhythm and ran his other hand up and down Carl’s spine.

  “I won’t be too rough, but I won’t be gentle either,” Landon warned. “If it gets to be too much tell me and I’ll stop, okay?”

  Carl nodded, yanking on his semi-hard dick, he was nervous and excited but his appendage wasn’t quite sure yet, it needed coaxing.

  Once Landon donned a condom and added a generous dollop of lube, he pressed against Carl’s opening and didn’t stop until the head of his cock passed Carl’s tight ring. Carl was shaking, Landon laid his head on Carl’s back closed his hand over Carl’s helping him stroke his cock and waiting for him to accept his size.

  “Move,” Carl whimpered, and pushed back. “Fuck me!”

  Starting off with slow measured strokes, caressing his hands up Carl’s back and humming a constant mmm until he couldn’t take it any longer, Landon cried out, “Fuck!” and rammed deep into his depths.

  His one hand clenched Carl’s hip jerking him back, it would no doubt leave a mark, the other he combed through Carl’s hair until he got a handful and tugged his head back.

  “Uh,” Carl grunted.

  “Too much?”

  “No way,” Carl snarled. “I’m not a delicate flower,”

  Landon’s laughter filled the room hearing the same words he used on Carl. “Not as vanilla as I pegged you being? I like that,”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Ace.”

  With a growl, Landon pulled Carl by the hair until he was stood on his knees, his back to Landon’s chest his hand grasped to Carl’s throat. Carl closed his eyes and moaned with pleasure when Landon shoved his hips forward, the slap of his balls to Carl’s ass ringing in the air over and over.

  “Gonna be fun…discovering the dirty little side of my man,” Landon said, and licked his tongue from where he held Carl’s throat, along his chin and up his temple.

  The smile on Carl’s face when Landon called him, my man, was soon replaced with a furrowed brow and his mouth opened into an O, as Landon rammed continually into him.

  “I’m close, Ace,” Carl told him, breathlessly.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Landon ordered. “On your back, I want to see your face when I make you cum.”

  Carl gasped when Landon pulled out. He turned over and noted the agonized look on Landon’s face as he held his cock tight in his hand.<
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  “You okay, Ace?”

  “Don’t know what it is about you, but I’m having trouble holding back.”

  Recalling Landon’s confession about multiple orgasms, he had to ask. “What does it matter, you can just start again, am I right?”

  “I can, but I don’t think you could handle it just yet,” Landon informed, with a quick kiss. “Now spread your legs nice and wide for me, Babes.”

  Holding one of Carl’s ankles, he entered him without warning, shoving deep as Carl moaned. Building a slow almost lazy pace, Landon churned his hips and Carl’s eyes widened, meeting Landon’s.

  “Fuck,” Carl threw his head back. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Feels good?”

  “Mmm…gonna cum,” Carl gasped, holding a hand out to Landon, who wove their fingers together.

  “Yes you are,” Landon smirked as Carl’s muscles tightened around his cock.

  He watched a hot stream of semen spurt from Carl, hitting the headboard as he released, followed by several more and the sound of Carl’s loud cries of pleasure. He was incredibly vocal.

  Landon loved how vocal he was.

  A few more thrusts and Landon pulled from him, quickly disposed of the condom and stroking his dick violently, his teeth biting into his bottom lip as jets of semen spurted across Carl’s stomach.

  With an exhausted smile, Carl dipped his finger into Landon’s seed on his chest and licked it from his finger then looked back at the headboard, streaked with his own.

  “Sorry about that,”

  “Not to worry, Babes,” Landon leaned over and kissed him, tasting his own cum on Carl’s lips. “I won’t be the one cleaning it.”

  Carl pulled Landon’s arms out from under him, he fell onto his chest and Carl wrapped his arms around his neck. Making sure the mess on his chest was now smeared on Landon’s skin, he grinned and licked the tip of Landon’s nose. Landon pulled back with a sour look.

  “And I won’t be the one cleaning that,” Carl laughed.

  “You’re cute,” Landon grunted sarcastically as he climbed from the bed and stood in the doorway.

  “Yes I am,” Carl responded with a cheesy grin.

  “And you’ll be showering alone for that,” Landon said, leaving the room.

  Springing from the bed, Carl raced down the hall after Landon and jumped onto his back nearly knocking him off his feet and wrapping his legs and arms around him. They laughed as Landon staggered along the hall and into the washroom, slamming the door behind them.

  SEVENTEEN

  Detective Johnson removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. He lifted his coffee cup and took a sip, spitting it back into the Styrofoam cup and a laugh from the door startled him.

  “Looks like you could use a real coffee,” Landon said, carrying a takeout tray over and setting it on the desk.

  The man smiled as if his life were being saved and took a cup, a few creamers and several packets of sugar and tore the lid off, breathing out an appreciative sigh. He poured in two creamers and Landon stared as he added six packs of sugar and stirred, he settled back in his chair and took a sip.

  “Now that’s coffee, my ulcer thanks you.”

  Johnson gestured to the seat in front of his desk and waited for Landon to sit, he leaned

  forward with his elbows on the desk.

  “What brings you into my precinct on this lousy day?”

  “Briggs is having party and I’m invited.” Landon gave him a callous smile.

  A cruel smile slowly spread across Johnson’s face. He opened a desk drawer and took out a file, placing it on the desk and opening it, rifling through the loose pages.

  “When?”

  “Saturday night, he’s waiting for my answer.”

  The idea of spending the evening with Briggs was a daunting thought, the last thing he wanted to do. At least Landon was getting over the need to run to the toilet when Briggs’ name was mentioned. His stomach was being settled by his feeling of hatred, the need to cause the man as much torture as he could. His new mission was to destroy Briggs, bring him down and wipe him off his boots like the putrid revolting doormat that he was. His jaw tightened and nostrils flared as he took a drink of his coffee and a deep breath while he watched Johnson stare into space.

  Johnson scratched his fingertips along the scruff on his chin, deep in thought. “Saturday doesn’t give me a lot of time to put something together.”

  “I only got the text this morning.”

  “Text him and tell him you’ll be there.”

  Landon’s heart vaulted like it was trying to tear out of his chest. Taking his phone from his pocket, he hesitated for a moment. “I send this text and you let me see that file, deal?”

  “Send the text.”

  I’ll be there, this one time only.

  Landon hit send and reached out a hand.

  “If someone sees me handing you this file, I’ll get fired.” Johnson stood, his chair scraping across the worn wood floor. He shoved the file closer to Landon. “You’ll excuse me while I use the facilities,”

  Landon smiled his acknowledgement and waited until Johnson was out of sight. He scooted his chair closer and looked around before opening the folder. Not surprised by what he read, the squeaky clean image of the devil himself read like a fairytale on each page. Something had to be hidden between the lines; even Mother Theresa’s image wasn’t this clean.

  The photograph attached to the inside of the file folder with a paperclip was model perfect, but Landon knew better. The handsome face, the deep blue eyes and strong chiseled features had made his heart stop with desire when they first met, and now made his stomach heave.

  A hand reached past his shoulder and closed the folder.

  “Seen enough?”

  Johnson took his seat and slipped the file back into his drawer, taking a long drink from his cup he sat back.

  “We’ll have to wire you,” Johnson, said. “Something discreet.”

  “Are you fucking crazy?” Landon scowled. “If Briggs suspects I’m setting him up, I’m fucked.”

  “Then we’ll suit you with a device,” Johnson stood. “Let’s see what we can do, follow me.”

  Through a set of double doors deep in the bowels of the building, the caged room they entered resembled something from a James Bond movie. Guns and other devices hung neatly on two walls. A man in navy overalls with police written across his shoulders and a set of goggles on his forehead rose from his seat and came over to meet them.

  “What can I do you for, Johnson?” he greeted them with a half-smile and mini torch in his hand.

  “I need surveillance on this guy, but we can’t wire him, what do you have?”

  The man inspected Landon then asked, “How are you going to be dressing? Suit, jeans and a T. Football uniform, ballet tights, what?”

  The guy was funny. Probably spent all his days alone locked in a cage making strange spy gadgets. Landon figured he was some kind of twisted rocket scientist, since he came across as a few bricks short of a load, the strange ingenious scientist, thingamabob building doctor Frankenstein deal.

  “Suit.” Landon told him.

  “Business or pleasure?” Mr. Science guy asked.

  What does it matter? Landon thought. A suit’s a suit.

  “What the fuck Donahue? Just hook us up with something,” Johnson barked.

  “Hey this is serious shit here,” Mr. Science guy barked back. “If it’s a dinner party, you wouldn’t be carrying a pen in your breast pocket, if it’s business you wouldn’t have a fucking flower in your lapel, think Johnson.”

  “I suppose you could call it pleasure,” Landon told him.

  “Let’s see,” Mr. Science guy said, pulling labelled boxes off of shelves and checking their contents.

  Just as Landon stepped closer to get a better look at the one wall, Mr. Science guy snapped, “Don’t touch anything.”

  “Having a look, that’s all,” Landon assured him, as he nosed a
round with his hands in his pockets.

  “This is new, ultra fucking cool,” he handed a common BIC lighter to Landon. “It’s a camera, aim the bottom and flick. The lens is in the refill hole. The only drawback is that you can’t see the shots you’ve taken until you upload them, you’re going to have to play with this until you get the feel of it.”

  “Will do.”

  “Do you need audio?”

  “Yeah,” Johnson answered, “in case our man here runs into trouble.”

  “I have a shit load of gizmos if you don’t need two-way.”

  “We just need to hear him…we’ll give him a code word if he requires help,” Johnson said, slapping Landon’s shoulder.

  The offer sent a shiver up Landon’s spine, as he contemplated the time it would take to get from the outside of a building to the interior where they would have to track him down, compared to the time it took a bullet to travel from the barrel of a gun into the gray matter of his brain from across even the largest room.

  His odds really sucked.

  “The choice is yours then,” Mr. Science guy said, spreading items out over the work surface. “I have watches and keychains, a pack of gum, buttons, tie tacks, lapel pins, belt buckles, cuff links, earrings and a mess of gaudy jewelry. I have a great pair of chandelier size earrings.”

  They laughed at his joke, not too funny, but the ugly ornate earrings certainly were.

  Landon thought for a moment, gum was out; tie tacks were too obvious as were buttons and lapel pins. His wisest choice was the belt buckle since he always wore a belt and it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. He chose a clamp style silver belt buckle with an Armani insignia on it. If he was going to wear a wire device, it may as well be designer.

  Mr. Science guy ran through how the lighter and belt buckle worked, the dos and don’ts and the warning that if they weren’t returned immediately after being used, he’d hunt them both down. Landon had no doubts he would do just that and agreed with a handshake.

  A few hours later, Landon walked around the club taking shots with the lighter camera, burning himself a few times after forgetting it actually worked, and then uploaded them onto his laptop.