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

by Rose, Jennifer

  Carl smiled and looked away.

  “But you made love to me,” Tristan said, desperately.

  “We had sex, we did not make love,” Landon said. “We had fun times, I was in a different place, it was a different time. Never did I mean to hurt you.”

  Tristan slammed his fist against Landon’s chest repeatedly, Landon didn’t stop him. Tristan slid down Landon’s front until he was lying on the floor sobbing. Landon reached down and lifted Tristan into his arms and sat him on the bed, sitting beside him with his arm over his shoulder.

  “Go back to Detroit Tristan,” Landon said. “Go back to school and start again, be that Mr. Tristan St. James you’ve always dreamed of being.”

  “I blew all my money coming here,” he wiped his nose with his sleeve. “I’ve been such an ass, how come you’re being so nice to me?”

  “We all make mistakes Trisket,” Landon said, using his pet name and raising his chin with his finger. “You made yours, now you’re going to fix it. I’ll take care of school and make sure you have a place on campus to live. But this is your last chance, don’t come back here, I never want to see your face again and the cards stop, do you hear me?”

  “I’m so sorry.” He wrapped his arms around Landon’s neck. “I’ll go and I won’t cause you anymore trouble, I promise.”

  “Come back tomorrow at one, I’ll write you a cheque and we’ll get you on a bus back home,” Landon instructed. “Now get the fuck out of here.”

  Tristan rose to his feet and pulled his friend with him when he left the room. Landon sat with his head in his hands, his knees were shaking as Carl sat beside him. Tiny nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  “I should have listened to you, I’m sorry,” Landon said. “What a fucking idiot I’ve been.”

  “You’re quite a man, Mr. Kyle, taking care of the kid after what he did,” Carl said, nudging Landon’s shoulder. “You sure you don’t want to lay charges.”

  “If he is who he says he is…I owe it to Steve to help him, it will be my way of getting the closure I need to move on. I’ll call Steve’s mom and verify everything before I write that cheque.”

  “I love you,” Carl said, resting his head on Landon’s shoulder.

  Landon wove his fingers with Carl’s and sat studying them before speaking. “Will you marry me on Saturday, Carl Ward?”

  “I want nothing more,” Carl smiled. “Let’s go home.”

  ***

  The feel of the ice cube as it touched his nipple and coated his skin in a layer of chill bumps, was quickly replaced by Landon’s hot breath as it left his lips. His tongue licked along the path of ice water that trickled to the dip between Carl’s gorgeous pecs.

  Landon whispered vulgarities in Carl’s ear as his strokes increased in both pace and ferocity, feeling like the silken exotic words from an Ethan Radcliff poem.

  “You’re going to kill me!” Carl yelled over This Is What It Feels Like, Trevor Guthrie’s voice singing throughout the room.

  “Yeah but I’ll be the happiest prisoner in the cell block,” Landon sneered. “Now roll over, hands on the headboard.”

  “Yes master.”

  “Mmm…I like that,” Landon hummed.

  Landon held his cock at Carl’s opening and slowly fed it into him with a soft mellow rumble.

  “Hard and fast Baby,” Carl begged. “I’m not a delicate flower you know.”

  Landon slapped his hand against Carl ass, leaving a long lasting sting as a pink glow tanned his skin. He pounded into him like a jackhammer, with enough energy to shove him through the wall as Carl held the headboard tightly and moaned his pleasure.

  “Oh fuck yeah!” Landon laughed. “My delicate little flower’s flower is fucking tight.”

  “I’m going to cum, don’t you fucking stop,” Carl dropped his head and watched his own seed spurt onto the towel draped over Landon’s pillow and onto the headboard.

  “That’s so fucking hot,” Landon said, trailing his hand along Carl’s spine and into the curls on top of his head.

  He wove his fingers into Carl’s blonde locks and yanked his head back until he was kneeling upright, his back against Landon’s chest. Landon moved his hand to Carl’s throat and panted into Carl’s ear. As he grew closer to climax, his moans became erratic and deliciously louder.

  A few more thrusts and he pulled from him, his hot load jetting onto Carl’s back.

  “Way to mark me, Ace.”

  Landon grabbed a few tissues from the box on the bedside table and wiped Carl clean, then gently kissed his back and nipped his flesh with his teeth.

  “I’ll mark you alright,” Landon said, reaching into the bedside drawer.

  With a sharpie marker he quickly signed his name under the dimple at the top of Carl’s ass cheek. He grinned as Carl squirmed trying to see.

  “Did you seriously just write on my ass with a marker?” Carl whined.

  “I marked you Babes, for the entire world to see,” he laughed. “You’re mine.”

  “That would be great if I walked around naked twenty four seven.”

  “Mmmm…sounds perfect to me.”

  Landon licked his lips, throwing himself onto the mattress and Carl joined him.

  “I’ll help you wash it off,” Landon offered, with a hint of disappointment in his tone.

  “What did you write?”

  “Just my name, nothing too scandalous,” Landon smiled and sat up. “Come on before it sets in too bad.”

  “Nah, I think I’d like to wear your mark for the rest of the day,” Carl tugged him back down and held his hand against his cheek. “I kinda like the idea of being marked.”

  “Oh you do, do you?” Landon purred, moving closer to him. “There are other ways I could leave my mark on you Babes.”

  Carl laughed and rolled off the bed. He pulled on clean underwear and jeans and one of Landon’s t-shirts from his drawer, as Landon watched.

  “What are you doing?” Landon asked, bemused by Carl’s sudden departure from their bed.

  “I’ll be back in a while with a surprise,” he grinned and flew out the door.

  “Okay!” Landon yelled after him. He had no choice but to be okay with Carl’s exit.

  Several hours later Landon sat flicking through the channels on the TV with an empty popcorn bowl, bored out of his skull. Just as he took his phone from his pocket to send a text, Carl walked through the door with a cheesy grin spread from ear to ear.

  “What have you done?” Landon asked, because of the guilty look of pride on Carl’s face, it wasn’t one that he’d ever seen before.

  “Close your eyes,” Carl directed, watching as Landon did so reluctantly.

  “I don’t see any packages.”

  “Just close your eyes.”

  Carl lowered his jeans just below the globes of his butt and turned his back to Landon. “Give me one more second,” he said.

  He peeled away a layer of plastic wrap and drew in a quick breath from a slight sting of pain. “You can open your eyes now.”

  Landon’s eyes immediately hit the intended target, his brow raised, his mouth dropped open and then he stood up and moved closer. He touched the pink irritated flesh just above the swirling black lines of ink and smiled.

  “You did this for me?” he asked, in a soft tone.

  “Mostly I did it for me,” Carl said, turning his upper torso for a better look at Landon. “I told you, I like the idea of being marked.”

  Landon laughed. “That’s forever, you know this?”

  “Like my love for you, it’s forever too,” Carl turned and kissed Landon’s cheek. “Now every time we make love you’ll be reminded that I’m yours always.”

  “Wait right there,” Landon held up a finger as he turned and ran to the bedroom.

  He stood in front of Carl with the infamous sharpie in his hand, and a smile the size of Texas. “Can I have your autograph Babes?”

  Carl took the sharpie from Landon’s hand and kissed hi
s lips against his open palm. “I love you so much…now drop your drawers and bend over while I mark you.”

  An hour later, Landon was lying face down on the very same padded table where Carl had been only a few hours earlier. The name Carlton was being inscribed into the soft flesh of his ass, an indelible reminder of their love for one another.

  “It looks great, I love it. You’re going to love it too,” Carl assured him and stood back watching as his friend Ted cleaned the area with medicated soap and patted it dry.

  “All done here,” the elaborately tattooed man with a beard like grizzly Adams’ said, as he wiped a layer of petroleum jelly on the tattoo, then covered it with a layer of plastic and tape. “I’ll give you a minute.”

  “Thanks Teddy,” Carl said, before turning his full attention to Landon.

  “We’re having dinner at Blu,” Landon told him, clasping onto his elbow as Carl walked towards the shop door.

  “Tonight? I’m not dressed for it.”

  “You look gorgeous.”

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “Could you go with the flow just this once, without whining?”

  “I don’t fucking whine!” Carl stood still and sniffed the air. “I smell a setup.”

  “We go to dinner, you smile and act like you’re enjoying yourself for a few hours of your life, and I’ll let you name the one thing I hate you to do the most and I’ll do it for a week without complaint.”

  “Something still stinks,” Carl said, as he climbed into Landon’s truck.

  It was a short, silent ride, while Carl pondered what was going on and Landon could only imagine how terrible the evening may turn out.

  “Nice to see you again Mr. Kyle,” the maître de greeted them. “Your guests have already arrived and have been seated.”

  Carl’s head immediately spun in Landon’s direction with a glare that would pierce steel.

  “Guests?” Carl asked.

  “Promise me you won’t be mad?” Landon asked.

  “Why would I be mad?” Carl’s brows creased together.

  “I made a phone call a few days ago,” Landon looked away.

  “Who did you call?”

  Landon could hear trepidation in Carl’s voice. “Your mom.”

  “Are you out of your mind? What would possess you to go behind my back and,”

  “She was happy that I called,” Landon cut Carl off.

  “I kind of invited your parents to the wedding,” Landon said, sitting up. “She said to tell you she’ll be there…but she couldn’t promise your dad would come with her…I wanted to surprise you but I thought maybe it would be best for everyone if we all got together…and talked.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Carl touched his fingers to his temple as if he was in pain.

  Landon eyed him curiously, “Are you angry?”

  “Umm…” Carl stared at the exit sign hanging from the ceiling. “I’m conflicted. I don’t know whether to punch you in the face or kiss you.”

  “I vote for the latter.”

  There was no mistaking Carl’s confusion, but nothing about his body language said he was about to lash out, so Landon took Carl’s hand in his and pulled him close for a sweet gentle kiss.

  “All I want is for you to be happy and as long as there’s conflict and hostility between you and your parents, you can never be truly happy.”

  “My mom’s not like yours,” Carl said. “She says she accepts me, but she turned her back on me the minute my father told her to.”

  “Well of course she did,” Landon affirmed. “He’s her husband, what did you want her do? Leave him? And then what? Spend the rest of her life alone? Be reasonable, the woman is between a rock and a hard place. She can accept you and still remain married you know.”

  Carl held his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he fiddled with the buttons of his shirt.

  “Look at me,” Landon said, raising Carl’s chin with the tip of his finger. “Don’t you think maybe you’re at fault for creating a bit of the distance too?”

  Carl drew his head back and scowled. “Me?”

  “Be honest. Do you call? Do you send Birthday or Christmas cards? When’s the last time you sent your mom flowers for no reason at all? She’s your mom and he’s you dad, Babes.”

  “And you’re a nosy fuck,” Carl snarled. “Obviously you two had a lively conversation, she made me out to be an ungrateful prick, didn’t she?”

  Rolling his eyes to the sky, he clicked his tongue and crossed his arms over his chest. Landon slapped him on the ass on the tender spot were his new tattoo was pink and irritated and Carl let out a small shout.

  Landon cleared his throat. “We talked and she had nothing but positive things to say, she can’t wait to see you.”

  “A wedding isn’t the place to clear the air and I’ll be damned if I’m going to have that kind of conversation with my father on my wedding day…Let’s get this over with,” Carl said, allowing Landon to lead the way.

  He felt bile rising from his stomach as they approached the table and the man dressed in a dark gray suit turned in their direction with a look of surprise.

  “Carlton.”

  “Mom,” Carl whispered, as she wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him.

  “I’m Landon,” he said, holding out his hand to Mr. Ward. “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir.”

  Mr. Ward remained seated, made no attempt to stand, smile or make eye contact. “Harrumph…”

  “You’ll have to excuse my husband, Landon, he can be a stupid ass at times,” Mrs. Ward moved in and hugged him. “Call me Patrice, grumpy there you can call Emmitt.”

  “Mr. Ward will do just fine,” Emmitt grumbled.

  “Take no notice of him,” she said, as they sat down. “It’s wonderful to meet you in person. You’re looking very well Carlton, are you happy?”

  “Of course he’s happy, your son’s a happy little queer all queers are happy ones.” Carl’s father spit out.

  Carl looked nothing like his father, who had dark hair and dark miserable eyes. Thankfully he had his mother’s hair color and her happy hazel eyes, he even smiled like her. At Carl’s grumpiest, he’d never resemble the man across the table with the despicable glower on his face. Talk about opposites attracting, Carl’s mother and father couldn’t have been more different as she smiled brightly and his sour puss hung in a huff.

  “Emmitt!” Patrice scolded.

  “It’s okay mom,” Carl placed his hand over hers. “He’s right, I am queer. I’m also happier than I’ve ever been in my life.”

  “Landon told me the news,” Patrice said. “The wedding’s this Saturday coming?”

  “I brought you an invitation,” Landon told her, taking it from his pocket and passing it across the table.

  Just as Patrice’s fingers touched the heavy card stock, Emmitt snatched it away. He glared at the words and then tore it in half before tossing it on the table. Patrice gasped picking up the two pieces of paper and holding them together, while her eyes filled with tears.

  “Is this some kind of sick, perverted joke?” he snarled. “If you do this, you’ll be doing it on your own…what were you looking for? A God damned blessing?”

  Carl nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. “I wasn’t looking for fuck all…those bridges have long since burned. There is no place in my life for a heartless, homophobic asshole like you. And I sure as hell don’t want your blessing.”

  “I love you Carl, remember that when I tell you I made a terrible mistake thinking your father would stand up like a man and accept us,” Landon said. “I thought maybe after all these years you two could have mended fences, I’m sorry Carl, I was wrong and I should have never interfered.”

  “That’s right, you should have left things alone,” Emmitt pushed his chair back and stood as the waiter approached the table, then veered in the opposite direction.

  “My son died many years ago, this,” he pointed his finger and scowled tracing Carl u
p and down, “this is not my son.”

  He tossed his unused napkin on the table and turned to his wife. “We’re leaving.”

  Patrice wiped her eyes before standing. “Carlton…I will see you both on Saturday.”

  She held the torn invitation to her heart and then slipped it into her purse. “I’d like a new invitation if that’s possible?” she asked, glaring at her husband defiantly.

  Biting into her lower lip, she looked at Carl with a smile. “I think my lavender dress with the white pearl buttons down the back will be perfect for the mother of the groom.”

  She leaned towards Landon as he smiled. “I got that right, right?”

  “Yes Mrs. Ward,” he nodded, with a smile.

  “Landon?” she smiled and held her hand to his cheek. “Call me mom.”

  He grinned. “Thanks…mom.”

  “Over my dead body will you be going,” Emmitt started.

  Patrice sharply poked her index finger against Emmitt’s chest. “You will not deny me seeing my baby boy get married, you may be my husband Emmitt Ward, but you will not take away my right as a mother, to see my son marry the man of his dreams.”

  She stormed off in the direction of the elevator, closely followed by Emmitt with his tail tucked between his legs. He turned and scowled at them both as Carl raised his hand and waved with a nasty smirk.

  “I almost enjoyed that,” Carl said, taking a sip of ice water from his glass. “There’s only one thing that would have made it better.”

  “What’s that?” Landon hesitantly asked.

  “If your mom had been here to set his ass straight,” Carl laughed.

  “That would have been something to see,” Landon reached for his hand. “I think our moms will get along well.”

  “I think we should get dinner to go,” Carl wiggled his brow. “I’d like to see that tattoo of yours in action.”

  “I like the way you think,” Landon grinned. “By the way, what’s your middle name?”

  “Why?”

  “I should know, don’t you think?”

  “Jasper.”

  Landon held his fist to his mouth and guffawed. “I had a dog named Jasper.”

  “Fuck off!”