Nathaniel
WITH LANDON PRESSED TO my back, his thighs squeezing firmly into my sides, and his hands resting on the tank in front of me, all I can think about is how he looked exiting the gym.
It’s hard to focus on streetlights when I can feel the sweat from his biceps along mine; the smell of him is so pungent and suffocating that all I can imagine is him smelling and looking just like this, but under me.
How does this fuckers sweat smell like candy? Or maybe I’m just that horny. As soon as I’m back in Oregon tomorrow, I’m calling a hook-up from town, and I’m fixing this little problem.
Landon rides as if he’s done it before. With his weight evenly distributed and his hands placed perfectly, I imagine he’s been on the back of plenty of bikes. And that kind of enrages me.
The drive to the hotel the organization booked me is short—truly only fifteen minutes—but it feels like an eternity with his hot body pressed to mine.
I forced him to wear the only helmet I have, even though it’s most definitely illegal in California, but at least now I can’t feel his soft hair brushing my neck or his panting breath.
It pisses me off to no end that I’m attracted to him. I have a job to do and a very negative opinion of his personality; those two things are normally enough to dissuade me, but right now, I can’t stop picturing him crying.
And begging and pleading and so fucking desperate for more of my cock shoved inside of his hot—
I park in front of the hotel, shaking my head lightly as Landon hops off the bike, ripping the helmet off. I need to get rid of these thoughts.
I have to feed him the B109.
“What are we doing at a hotel?” Landon asks, his voice dripping with annoyance.
“It’s not like I have a summer house out here,” I counter, grabbing my keys and heading toward the entrance.
I can hear Landon’s heavy footsteps behind me as I walk into the elevator. Surprisingly, he’s quiet. Almost as if he is shocked to be here and rethinking his decision now that I’m about to get him alone.
Is he scared? God, I hope he’s terrified.
The hotel I was given isn’t crazy—a queen bed across from a desk with a flatscreen on top. By the door is a small bathroom, and a chair is nestled next to the kitchen area against the far window.
As we enter, I sit down on the edge of the bed, eyeing Landon, who stands defensively next to the closed door.
“Now that you’ve kidnapped me, what do you want?” Landon demands, his arms crossed over his chest, making his muscles bulge obscenely.
“I didn’t kidnap you. If I remember correctly, you willingly got on that bike.” And I wish it were my bike, and not one I’m renting while I’m here, because I’d love to have had his ass planted firmly against something I own.
“Yeah, only because you said you’d leave me alone after,” Landon grumbles.
I watch his vibrant green eyes roll, his bottom lip jutting out slightly.
“I’ve been watching you,” I say, making his gaze snap to mine. “I’ve seen how people fawn over you, doing whatever they have to do to get your attention.”
“Stalker much?” he sneers, but a slight blush is coating his cheeks, as if this observation embarrasses him somehow.
“What I don’t understand,” I continue, “is why you insist on using that power of—what is it called? Manipulation?”
I’ve never truly seen this specific gift before, so I’m unsure what to call it.
“Coercion,” Landon supplies. I’m surprised he’s willing to tell me.
“Right. What I don’t understand is why you insist on using this power of coercion when people are willing to fall at your feet without it.” My eyes narrow in on his. “Unless they aren’t willing, and you have that deceptive little gift turned on constantly.”
Landon scoffs, giving me a look that tells me he thinks I’m an idiot. “I don’t have to make people like me, Nathaniel. I’m hot, and I’m kind. What more could they want?”
He is so incredibly full of himself that I can’t even comprehend it. Who just says they’re hot? Ridiculous.
“So then tell me,” I insist. “Why do you feel the need to force people into making your tea when you could just ask?”
Landon looks… genuinely confused. “Why wouldn’t I ensure things are done the right way? I’m not hurting anyone.”
“But you are. You’re taking away their free will.”
He eyes me for a moment before his gaze falls to the floor contemplatively. Don’t tell me this man genuinely didn’t understand what he was doing.
“Interesting take,” he mumbles, his brows furrowed as he thinks it over.
“How come you didn’t use coercion on Julian?” I ask.
The question has been bugging me since I saw them in the foyer that day. Landon could very well make Julian love him, yet he doesn’t.
Landon looks at me like I’m crazy. “What? Why in the world would I do that and spend the rest of my life knowing he’s a hostage? That our love is a farce?”
“So it’s because it’d be fake, not because it’s wrong,” I push, and Landon rolls his eyes again.
“And it’s obviously wrong. Jesus, what is this? A test of my moral compass?”
It kind of is. I already know what I believe and what needs to happen here, but I can’t help but question him. I have a desire to learn Landon, even as I know I’ll be feeding the B109 to him very soon.
The moment he tried to use his coercion on me, the moment he succeeded in using it on me, his fate was set.
“Does it hurt?” I find myself asking. “That he doesn’t love you, I mean.”
“Pardon?” Landon’s eyes form slits as he glares at me, dropping his hands to his sides.
“Are you upset that he wants Atlas, who is completely different than you? Are you in pain?” I’m not sure why I’m asking him these things; I just feel like I need to know.
“You’re crossing a line,” he tells me, and I can see the anger building inside of him from the way his jaw is clenching.
He doesn’t want to talk about it. Unfortunately for him, I do.
“It makes me curious because outwardly you seem perfectly fine, but back at Chastain Castle, you looked so upset,” I add, and Landon takes a step closer, his shoulders squaring.
“Nathaniel, I do not want to talk about this,” he says sternly.
And yeah, I don’t particularly like Nathaniel coming out of his mouth. Nate was just fine.
“Do you miss him? Do you wish he’d love you and not—”
Landon is across the room within a singular second, his hand reared back to slap me. I grab his wrist before he can, tugging him between my knees as I stare up at him, calm and composed.
“Stop,” he pushes out, panting heavily. And still, I sense no traces of sadness in his eyes. Only rage.
“I don’t take orders from those below me,” I say.
“Below you? You’re a fucking cook, Nathaniel. My net worth trumps yours tenfold.”
“I wasn’t talking about net worth, little Lanny. As a human being, I am simply better than you.” Saying it does feel kind of mean, but it’s true. I’m not a manipulator.
“You’re not as righteous as you believe yourself to be,” Landon sneers. “All I see when I look at you is a self-centered prick who gets off on his high morality, if it even exists.”
Righteous? I never claimed to be. Justice obsessed? Sure. Morally correct? Absolutely.
But I never said righteous, or even kind.
There is no point in disagreeing with him, though, not when I need him to cooperate. Instead, I stand, spinning him to sit in the spot I just occupied before heading to the kitchen.
My back is to him, so as I pour a can of Coke into a glass, he doesn’t see me pull the vial of B109 from the bag on the counter.
“Well, we can all have our own opinions,” I say, stirring the drink briefly. “Here.”
As I turn and extend the drink to him, he gives me a weary look.
“Why are you so obsessed with my gift anyway? Don’t you have your own to worry about?” He’s referring to what I showed him back in Oregon.
“You mean illusion? It does benefit me where it’s necessary.” As in, I never use it for selfish reasons. Not like he does.
Landon holds the glass in his hand, resting it against his thigh as he says, “It seems very useful. I genuinely felt like the world around me was changing.”
For some reason, the comment makes me want to puff out my chest and smirk. It is useful.
Instead, I shrug. “It’s very helpful.”
Landon nods once, his eyes dropping to stare at the floor.
And for a moment, he seems so small and helpless that I kind of wish I could just ask him not to be a dick anymore and leave it at that.
But the organization wouldn’t accept this conclusion.
They’re very strict—as in, they won’t even help Young Master Atlas because they don’t involve themselves with demons.
Not that the organization could help much anyway.
Plus, I still don’t completely trust this guy, even if he’s turning out to be a little less evil than I once thought.
“You know,” Landon starts, his gaze lifting to mine. “I’m still unsure of what your grand plan is. You’re here to stop me from using coercion against others, but how? Do you plan to report me to the police? Would they even believe you?”
He’s a smart little thing; I’ll give him that. But he’s way off base if he thinks I’ll divulge that information to him. What I need is for him to drink that damn soda, but if I tell him to, he’ll suspect me.
“You don’t need the specifics,” I say, crossing my ankles as I lean against the kitchen counter.
“Oh, I don’t? Then I’ll just be going.” He stands, extending the drink out to me.
“No,” I tell him, ignoring the offering. “You’re staying right here.”
“Why? Is someone on their way to capture me?” he demands.
Someone was on their way, that he is right about. Only I’m already standing in front of him.
“I won’t be your little minion. I will not use my gift for you if that’s what you’re after,” he adds.
Huh? Why in the world would I want that when I’ve been chastising him this whole time about activating it?
“I don’t want that,” I assure him, doing my best to keep my eyes from landing on the glass in his hand.
“Then what do you want?” Landon pushes. “Because I’m becoming more confused the longer I stand here.”