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

by Rose, Jennifer

  “On your belly,” Landon instructed, watching Carl climb onto the bed, his skin glistening with beads of perspiration.

  “What are you planning, Ace?” Carl asked.

  Carl was so hot when he was anticipating his next move.

  “A little of this,” his tongue licked along the crevice of Carl’s ass. “And a little of that,” he licked his puckered entrance, sending shivers along Carl’s spine.

  Carl’s back arched and his ass pushed back. He closed his eyes and moaned, lost in the feel of the moment, when Landon’s hands grasped his thighs and pulled his legs out from under him. His face mushed into the pillows and he laughed.

  “You’re in a mood.”

  “Mmm…” Landon hummed, as his tongue traced along Carl’s spine and he crawled up to the headboard of the bed.

  When Carl lifted his head to speak again, Landon placed his palm against the side of his face pushing him back down onto the pillow.

  Carl smirked.

  It was moments like this when Carl enjoyed having Landon as a dominant force, taking control and tending to Carl’s needs. Though Carl was the submissive one, it was always for his pleasure. Landon got off more from giving Carl what he needed and having him give totally of himself.

  Reaching down the back of the headboard, Landon pulled up the silky rope that was permanently fixed there. Without a word he lifted Carl’s one arm and then the other over Carl’s head and secured them, never overly tight, never to the point he couldn’t break free if he needed to.

  Landon always made sure he was safe, protected, yet defenseless to his demands. It was a matter of trust, sharing a sense of assurance; credence and reliance that once Landon took charge, great pleasure would most definitely result for them both.

  Peppering kisses from the nape of Carl’s neck down to the back of his knees, all the while Carl squirming with heat, Landon took his time spreading Carl’s legs and tying each ankle to the corners of the bed.

  Landon stood at the foot of the bed and admired his man spread open for him. He happily sighed and walked around to the bedside table and retrieved a small bottle of oil from the drawer. Carl turned to face him, when he heard Landon clear his throat.

  “What do you have there?” Carl asked.

  “Gardenia and coconut oil,” Landon answered, popping open the cap and drizzling a small amount onto Carl’s back.

  “That’s cold!” Carl gasped.

  “Not for long,” Landon said, as the tone of his voice grew heavier with want.

  Landon straddled Carl’s ass, his package resting nicely between Carl’s ass cheeks. Carl squeezed his ass and Landon hummed, he ran his hands through the oil smearing it up to his shoulders and back down again. He took his time, working the oil into Carl’s pores, his skin glowing and warm. Landon shuffled his ass down between Carl’s open knees and trickled oil onto each ass cheek. He kneaded softly, gently, evenly as his thumbs worked Carl’s entrance until Carl was worked into a wanton fever.

  “I need you inside me, Baby,” Carl pleaded, pulling at the ropes around his wrists.

  “And I want to be inside you,” Landon said, shoving two digits into Carl while he writhed beneath him.

  “Now!” Carl barked. “Right fucking now!”

  “Have you forgotten who’s in charge?” Landon slapped Carl’s ass.

  “I’m going to cum, whether you’re inside me or not,” Carl snarled. “So who’s really in charge?”

  “Have it your way.” Landon gave himself several strokes and then pushed his cock past Carl’s puckered opening. “But I won’t be gentle.”

  “Good.”

  With each merciless thrust Landon delivered, Carl groaned savagely. The room echoed with the sounds of unadulterated sensuality and a pure lust. Landon laid his body on top of Carl’s and ran his hands up Carl’s sides, along his arms and then he meshed their fingers together as he rocked his hips and growled into Carl’s ear.

  In a swift move he untied Carl’s wrists, releasing him. Carl immediately wrapped his arm back around Landon’s neck kissing him violently, as if he was desperate to take a bite out of him.

  “Untie me, Ace,” Carl asked quietly. “So I can watch your beautiful face when you cum, when you make me cum.”

  As fast as he could manage, Landon had Carl’s ankles untied and was buried deep inside him with Carl’s legs over his shoulders and his body melted beneath him.

  “You feel so hot and fucking tight, like a satin glove wrapped around my cock,” Landon panted.

  Landon started swiveling his hips and Carl’s eyes lit up, his mouth formed a delicious O and his breathing hitched. Landon smiled knowing he was hitting the spot, stimulating Carl to the brink. As Carl’s eyes rolled back and he clamped his hands onto Landon’s strong muscular arms, Landon knew he wasn’t far from release.

  “Cum for me, Babes,” he demanded.

  “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Carl cursed and threw his hands over his head, grasping the bed sheets in his fists and straining. He was so close Landon could feel his interior muscles tightening around his shaft, driving him wild as he held back the urge to cum.

  “I’m…done for!”

  “Motherfucker, you got me in a death grip,” Landon said, and watched as Carl’s load shot over his chest onto the pillow at the side of Carl’s head.

  He looked at the hot ejaculate glistening on Carl’s skin and that was his undoing, he thrust forward and shot his seed inside Carl, grunting with the next few lazy thrusts until he was spent.

  “Fuck,” Carl grumbled, looking at his watch. “We only have enough time for a quick shower before the party.”

  “But it was well worth it, right?” Landon pinched Carl’s chin between his fingers and thumb and scowled.

  “It’s always worth it when my beautiful man fucks me good and hard.”

  “Good answer, Babes,” Landon kissed the end of his nose and rolled off of him. “I’ll start the shower, don’t be long.”

  Landon winked.

  ***

  The piano was playing in the far corner of the club, soft and mellow, an arrangement of songs had been chosen to play while the guests arrived and the first round of drinks were served. The food had been carefully timed so nothing chanced getting cold and everyone was kept happy. Trays of champagne were sitting ready as the wait staff stood smiling and checking out each other’s appearances.

  To Carl and Landon’s surprise, Rex and Ally were the first guests to arrive with a friend in tow. Since meeting they enjoyed a rather rocky on again, off again relationship.

  “The place looks great,” Rex said, shaking their hands. “I hope you don’t mind us bringing our friend with us, but we’re a package now.”

  “Not at all,” Landon said, as the word package made him wonder if the rumors of Rex and Ally stepping out with others were a bit truer than he thought.

  “This is Ryan,” Ally touched his arm smiling up into his face. “Our partner.”

  Ryan smiled and the atmosphere in the room practically changed. His face was sweet and angelic, he had short cropped blond hair and soft blue eyes that were hypnotic, one was automatically drawn to his energy.

  “Nice to meet you, this is a wonderful place you have here,” Ryan said, shaking their hands.

  “Thank you Ryan, nice to meet you too,” Carl said. “Make yourself at home, the bar is open, our bartenders can make you anything you please.”

  “Thanks,” Ryan said, and walked over to the bar.

  “He seems really nice,” Landon said.

  “We met him on vacation in California,” Rex offered an explanation. “He was serving drinks at a house party, we got talking…and one thing led to another. We ended up bringing him home with us.”

  Carl’s brow rose as he nodded his head, giving Landon a questioning look.

  “I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, a three-way relationship that is, but the three of us are very happy,” Rex said.

  “No explanation needed, we’re happy for you,”
Landon said. “I could never see you settling into a conventional relationship Rex, there’s simply too much of you to go around.”

  They were laughing when Eden and Chase came in, followed closely by Mikala, Mason and Marco.

  “You’ll excuse us?” Carl asked. “Get a drink and enjoy yourselves.”

  “Will do,” Rex said, taking Ally’s arm and draping it over his. “The place is nice, different, but really nice congrats.”

  Mikala threw her arms around Carl’s shoulders and squealed. “Fuck me! It’s like stepping into a time warp. I don’t even recognize the joint.”

  The walls where the DJ was located and a bold neon sign once hung, was now a classic exposed red brick wall. In keeping with the history of Boston, there was beautifully detailed crown molding at the ceiling, and all the chrome and glass had been replaced with blond and dark wood finishes. The floors had been refinished and highly polished in a dark, almost black stain. While rekindling a bit of history back into the building, everything appeared modern and fresh.

  “Nice language ma,” Marco chastised his mother, strapping his arm over her shoulder.

  All of fifteen going on twenty five, the kid was a magnificent combination of all that was perfect about Mikala, with the backbone and stature of Mason. He was tall, built like a Greek god, with mousy blond hair with traces of red at the roots, chocolate brown eyes and a shit-eating grin that was going to cause him trouble one day with the women.

  “Sorry Marc,” Mikala stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers. “It’s marvelous what your uncle’s have done with the place. I’m flabbergasted.”

  “Yeah, it’s amazing what a can of paint and little mood lighting can do for a place,” Mason joked.

  “Emma didn’t come with you guys?” Landon asked.

  Emma was the sunshine of Landon’s life, it was surprising to most how close they were. He was the man that couldn’t stand to be in the same room as a small child, the idea of being a father made him visibly cringe, but when it came to Emma Elisabeth Grace, there was a bond deeper than the deepest ocean.

  He dotted over her and she dotted over him.

  In Emma’s eyes, her Uncle Landon made the sun rise each morning and was the force that made it set each night. He was her best friend, sounding board, the one she went to with all her problems big or small. When she had a decision to make, it was Uncle Landon she went to first. Landon was the reason she wanted to be a cop, he trained her in self-defense, taught her at an early age to take no shit and how to stand up for herself with the bat of her eye and a confident smile.

  “I’m going to go send her a text, see what’s keeping her,” Landon said.

  As he walked away Mikala whispered in Carl’s ear, “I didn’t know how to tell him, she’s bringing a date.”

  “Seriously?” Carl laughed. “The man’s going to have a heart attack, better call 911 now and have them waiting out front in case.”

  “She says he’s a cop,” Mikala said. “She met him at the precinct, but didn’t say much more than that…I’m her mom and I only get bits and pieces, the sun doesn’t shine out of my ass quite as brightly as Uncle Landon’s. The only reason she told me was to make sure it would be okay to bring him and to not tell Landon so she could surprise him.”

  “He’ll be surprised alright,” Mason chuckled. “We better take a good look around and remember what the place looked like before Landon goes berserk and tears it apart.”

  “He won’t go berserk,” Carl said, the confidence in his voice weakening as his brain caught up with the words that crossed his lips.

  “You can hear yourself?” Chase asked, with a tray of champagne flutes offering a glass to each person. “This poor bastard lays one finger on Emma and Lando’s going to tear his arm off and shove it up his ass…sideways.”

  Marco giggled as he reached for a glass, his hand being slapped away by his aunt Eden. “Think again Spanky, you’re not old enough to drink.”

  “One’s not going to kill me,” Marco pouted.

  “Want to repeat that,” Landon scowled, as he clamped his hand on Marco’s shoulder, surprising him. “You’d like a can of pop you say?”

  “Yes sir,” Marco grinned, the shit-eating grin spreading across his face in fear of being squashed like a grape. “A can of pop sounds wonderful Uncle Landon, excuse me while I get myself one.

  “I thought so,” Landon smiled.

  “So, is she on her way?” Eden asked Landon.

  “Emma will be here soon, she’s running late, said she has to pick up something on the way.”

  Mikala laughed, tipping her glass and taking a sip. Her eyes stopped on the couple standing near the bar.

  “I’ll be damned,” she said. “It’s fucking Harry.”

  “What?” Chase’s head spun in the direction Mikala pointed. “You invited Harry Blackstock?”

  “We never really lost touch,” Mason said. “I asked Landon to invite him. I figured it would be nice to see how he’s doing.”

  “Good to see you detective,” Carl said, coming up behind Blackstock.

  “Carlton,” he pointed a finger then lifted his glass. “Congratulations, things must be good.”

  “Very good, thanks,” Carl said, turning and holding his hand out requesting Landon to come join them. “This is my husband Landon, you may remember him from Deadman’s Cove, he helped take down Stiles.”

  “I think I remember you, Landon,” Blackstock held out a hand, noting the questioning look on Landon’s face. “I know Mason mentioned you a few times. You’re a fellow officer.”

  “Retired officer,” Landon clarified.

  Landon couldn’t imagine the man standing in front of him wielding a pistol, making an arrest or having enough energy to read someone their Miranda Rights. His golf attire was wrinkled as if he had not changed in days. He had a soggy looking stogy wedged in the corner of his mouth and a heavy unkempt amount of stubble on his face. Since appearance was secondary perhaps third or fourth on Landon’s list and Blackstock seemed like a pleasant enough fellow, if he was a friend to Carl, Mason and the girls, Landon had enough room in his heart for him too.

  “As am I,” Blackstock concurred. “A few years back, now I’m enjoying days spent on the golf course. It’s funny I couldn’t stand the game before, now I can’t get enough of it.”

  Mikala gave Blackstock a hug and then stepped back. “I’m glad you came.”

  “Tiger,” he looked her up and down. “Still kicking ass?”

  She smiled. “Nah, I gave up kicking ass for motherhood.”

  Blackstock’s brows rose. “You’re a mom?”

  “That’s my son Marco over there at the end of the bar, looking bored as shit,” she laughed. “My daughter Emma isn’t here yet, she’s a police officer.”

  “I’m impressed. I’ll have to meet her.”

  “I’ll be sure to find you once she gets here,” Mikala said.

  “Let’s have a seat over here and get caught up,” Mason asked Blackstock, pointing to a table.

  “Morgan,” Landon called out. She waved and walked across the room to join them. “Glad you came, you know everyone.”

  She nodded and held up her palm as a shy hello. “I do,” she said.

  No doubt about it, she still had eyes for Landon after all these years. Sadly, she never married, Landon hoped she wasn’t pining away for him, although all the signs pointed in that direction as she sweetly smiled up at him.

  “Champagne?” Landon asked, taking two glasses from a tray as a server walked past.

  “Please,” she took the offered glass and had a sip. “Mmm…the bubbles tickle my nose.”

  Just as Landon was about to politely excuse himself, his lawyer Darius Palmer walked up to them, he put his hand on Landon’s arm and shook his other with enthusiasm.

  “Thanks so much for the invitation, Landon,” Darius said, turning his sights to Morgan. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “You interrupted nothing,” Lando
n grinned, taking Morgan’s arm and turning her until her and Darius stood face to face. “Morgan, this is Darius Palmer my lawyer.”

  “Mr. Palmer, it’s nice to meet you in person,” she said.

  “I’m sorry I seem to have missed something, do we know each other?” Darius asked.

  “Morgan’s my secretary,” Landon said, stepping back a bit, giving them room.

  “Ah, Miss Davis I presume,” Darius said, with a happy smile. “I should have recognized your voice after all the calls we have shared. Can I buy you a drink?”

  Darius looked at Landon. “You don’t mind if I steal Miss Davis for a while? We can talk later?”

  “Sure thing,” Landon slapped his hand on Darius’ shoulder. “You kids enjoy the party.”

  “Uh huh,” Morgan hummed as she strolled off with Darius at her side.

  Morgan laughed at something Darius whispered into her ear and wove her hand into the crook of his arm as they strolled over to the bar and he held her seat for her. They looked good together, perhaps she could find a little happiness after all and quit dreaming about the possibility of a romance with a gay man.

  “Playing match maker?” Eden asked. “That’s always been my job. Speaking of…”

  Following her eyes to the doorway, his jaw dropped when he saw Emma standing there with a smile on her face, scanning the crowd.

  “What the fuck is she wearing?” Landon said.

  Emma was never a girly girl per se, if she wasn’t dressed in her police uniform, she was dressed in sweats and soaked in perspiration from working out. Her smile was lovely like her mother’s and her fiery red hair hung down in large loose curls. Her little black dress though, had Landon wondering if he should run upstairs and grab her one of his shirts. He also had to wonder where her head was at. The hemline barely covered what god gave her and the strapless sweetheart neckline left nothing to the imagination. But then again, he probably wasn’t seeing properly because of the large brawny stranger standing possessively at her side.