Making It Sizzle

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Landon

“How did your date with Gilman go?” Jolene asked. She was my best friend and taught drawing at VCU. Her office and studio were only a block away from mine, so we spent most of our breaks together. She also liked to think of herself as a matchmaker. Ever since she got hitched last May she’d been on a mission to marry off all of her friends. The problem was, she really sucked at it.

“No spark. The guy was more interested in molesting me than watching the symphony.” Gilman was an attractive man in his late twenties, but he’d been all hands. The philistine had been visibly disappointed when I presented him with tickets to a performance of Ravel’s Bolero, possibly the sexiest piece of music ever composed. As soon as the lights went down in the theater, his hand creeped over the armrest and into my lap.

“I kind of thought you two would work out. He’s a huge gamer, and I wondered if…” Jolene began, but I cut her off before she could tell me more about how wonderful that loser was.

“Don’t set me up on any more dates.”

Jolene stopped in her tracks, grabbed my wrist and spun me around to face her. “You have so much to offer someone. Landon, you’re possibly the smartest guy I know. Not only that, you…”

“I don’t want to offer anyone anything.” I sighed, then took my glasses off, pulled a handkerchief out of the pocket of my cardigan and began cleaning them.

“For God’s sake, Landon, get contact lenses. Do you understand how stunning your blue eyes are?” Jolene sighed, shaking her head. “Not only that, you don’t even work out and you eat like a horse, yet don’t have an ounce of body fat. Seriously, you are one of the hottest men that I know, but you don’t seem to care.”

“I don’t. Plus, I hate sticking things in my eyes.” I knew Jolene meant well, but every man she’d set me up with turned out to be the complete opposite of what I considered a great time. All they wanted was s*x. Nothing wrong with that, but I wanted more than a quick tumble between the sheets. In my twenties, I was what I referred to as a gentleman of easy virtue, otherwise known as promiscuous, but now I was in my thirties, and s*x was boring unless there was a more intimate connection. If I didn’t at least like the guy, there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d sleep with him.

I put my glasses back on, and Jolene’s pale face came into focus. One red eyebrow was reaching for her hairline, and I noticed a black smudge on her chin, probably from the charcoals she used to teach drawing with. “Fine. I won’t set you up on any more dates.” She said. “But at least let me take you shopping for some new clothes. I mean, you’ve been sporting that same orange cardigan since we first met ten years ago. Oh, and you’re wearing one green sock and a blue one.”

I glanced down and inwardly groaned. This morning I’d slept through my alarm after staying up most of the night building a PC from leftover components. Plus, someone had moved into the apartment next door a few days ago, and I kept hearing unfamiliar bumps in the night that kept my nerves on edge. I’d scrambled to make it to my first class on time and had worn whatever I laid hands on first.

“This cardigan was my grandfather’s. It’s close to thirty years old, and I love it.”

Well, I loved everything but the little hole in my left armpit that was getting bigger with every wearing. Oh, and the frayed puffs of yarn it was always shedding. But, who had time to worry about clothes?

“It’s also time for a haircut.” Jolene reached over and smoothed my curly blond hair down, then straightened the collar of my shirt.

“You’re not my mother.” I rolled my eyes. Jolene wanted everyone to be happy, well-fed, and married off. It made me wonder if she was getting baby fever.

She kissed me on the cheek. “I have that book you wanted to borrow, the one by Isaac Asimov. It will only take a minute for me to grab it.”

I glanced down at my watch. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be teaching a class right now?”

Jolene winked. “My teaching assistant is running the show today. All they are doing is drawing a model, and they don’t need me for that.”

“Well, I’m going to be late for my next class. Give me the book the next…”

“We’re already there. It will only take a second, I promise.” Jolene gestured toward the door to her classroom, and I noticed two things. First, there was a large box sitting next to the door. Second, either Jolene was having a mild seizure, or she had developed a nervous tic.

“Are you feeling well?” I tilted my head to the side. “Because your left eye keeps spazzing out.”

“Look, we’re already at my studio and it will only take a second for me to get the book out of my desk.” She grabbed my elbow and pulled me forward. When we got to the door, I bent down and picked up the cardboard box.

“Oh, thanks, sweetie.” Jolene mumbled, then with a trembling hand she quietly pushed open the door to the drawing studio.

She was up to something, and if I were smart, I would have dropped the box and run, but now my curiosity was aroused, so I was determined to see this through.

Jolene’s spacious and always dusty studio was wall-to-wall students. In fact, I’d never seen it so full before. If a student had to cut a class, this was the one they skipped, unless they were an art major. Usually she had about thirty students, but today it looked closer to fifty. It was hard to see them clearly, because the box I was holding obscured my view. Whatever they were drawing must have been fascinating, because the few faces I saw had mouths hanging open, and downright reverent gazes.

“Landon, follow me.” Jolene whispered, then glided ahead through the maze of easels toward the front of the studio. All I could see was Jolene’s bright red hair moving away from me. I tried to keep up, but kept bumping into one student after another, and then I stepped on a foot and nearly fell over.

“Oops, sorry.” I whispered, but when I looked into the student’s face there was no reaction. The girl’s dark brown eyes were glassy and appeared to be dilated, plus there were tiny beads of sweat on her upper lip. Was she on drugs? When I glanced down at her hand it was rapidly sketching, without her even looking at the paper. All I could tell from her drawing was that it was a human lying down on their side. I glanced toward the front of the room but still couldn’t see the model thanks to the stupid box.

“Landon!” I heard Jolene hiss, then started moving toward the front of the class again. After four steps, I felt my foot hit something.

“Oomph.” The air left my chest when I hit the floor, my glasses clattering to the ground in front of me. The box tore open, and hundreds of lead pencils streamed out in a burst of chaotic noise, combined with the sound of every student gasping at once.

“Shit.” I muttered, my hand automatically searching for the glasses I couldn’t see. I heard the popping sound of pencils cracking under people's heels.

“Landon, are you all right?” I heard Jolene say, then I heard the classroom gasp again. A man laughed, a deep bass sound that vibrated up my spine. I pushed myself to my knees, then felt a hand on my shoulder. When I looked up, all I could see was tan skin stretching up for what seemed like forever.

“My glasses. I can’t see without my glasses.”

“I’ve got them.” The deep voice said. “Open your hand.”

I did, and moments later I was sliding them on my nose. Then it was my turn to gasp. A very tall naked man was staring down at me, a smirk dancing on his face. He had tawny skin and black hair cut extremely short, and muscles. Lots and lots of muscles. But what I now was having a tough time not gawking at was the exceptionally well-proportioned c**k swinging between his legs. Like the rest of him, it was gigantic. The man reached his hand down to help me up. His grip was powerful, and when I was on my feet again, I stared up into dark brown eyes surrounded by the thickest lashes I’d ever seen on a man.

He winked, and I felt something in my stomach flip.

“Landon.” Jolene flew to my side, but then stopped a couple of feet from me and the model, her eyes sweeping up his frame in undisguised admiration. Then she shook her head back and forth a few times and cleared her throat. “So sorry this happened to you.” Jolene said to me, then turned toward the model, careful to keep her eyes above his neck. “Thanks for helping Professor Smith. You are new here, and I can’t remember your name…” Jolene’s voice trailed off and the man bit his lower lip, never taking his eyes off my face.

“My name is Angel.” The man reached out and snatched my glasses off.

“Wh-what the hell are you doing?” I spluttered, my world instantly fuzzy. Whoever this man was, he wasn’t normal. Were psych students performing some kind of experiment in conjunction with the art department? The man’s hand was back on my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. The students surrounding us audibly inhaled as his features sharpened. Moments later I was staring up into his glittering eyes, the surrounding skin crinkling with amusement.

“Lose the glasses.” The man breathed, and I smelled mint on his hot breath. Then he pulled me in even closer, one hand fingering the tattered yarn of my sweater. My heart was pounding in my chest, and with horror I realized my d**k was firming up at the crazy man’s touch.

“You’d look even better if you were naked.”