Basic Information
Retired four-time Golden Glove-winning shortstop of the Chicago Cubs. Now owns a custom motorcycle shop and is a begrudging reality TV star.
Physical Description
Personality & Traits
Backstory & Relationships
From the outside, Landon Jenks was the American dream incarnate: four-time Golden Glove shortstop for the Chicago Cubs, World Series champion, and face of a new luxury custom motorcycle brand. But beneath the headlines and hero worship was a man built on broken promises and masks forged from pain.
Born to a powerful Republican senator and a blue-blood socialite, Landon grew up under the crushing weight of familial expectation. A political liability from the start, his coming out in middle school shattered what little affection his father had shown him. Terrified of how his gay son might affect his political standing, Landon’s father sought to “correct” him—both emotionally and physically—through a regimented gauntlet of masculine activities and brutal discipline. Every sport, every punch, every forced moment of "manhood" only solidified Landon’s truth: he was gay, and no amount of punishment could change that.
Ironically, it was through this forced athleticism that Landon found the one thing he truly loved—baseball. In the sport, he discovered structure, purpose, and the ability to excel on his own terms. He turned raw talent and relentless work ethic into a meteoric rise, building a career his father couldn’t ignore, even if he never acknowledged it with pride.
But success didn’t free him. It only made the masks more complicated.
Despite his fame, Landon lived in shadows—physically covered in tattoos meant to distract and emotionally guarded by practiced charm and a rotating door of one-night stands. The world might have known his name, but no one really knew him. He’d never had a real relationship. The men who pursued him were after his status, not his heart.
That all changed with Garret.
Enticed by the promise of control over his own narrative, Landon agreed to star in a reality show following his post-retirement transition from athlete to business owner. But the show had other plans. Behind the scenes, producers orchestrated a romance plotline to drive ratings—hiring a seductive plant to pose as Landon’s love interest. Garret played his part perfectly. Charming. Devoted. Believable. He even proposed during the season finale, in front of millions.
And Landon said yes.
Only after the cameras stopped rolling did Garret reveal the truth. It had all been fake. Just another transaction. A stepping stone to launch his own career. And once the role was done—so was he. He used Landon one final time, then walked out, leaving producers to clean up the mess. Landon had been outed on national television—not as a proud declaration of identity, but as a ratings ploy. Another man had taken his trust, twisted it, and left him emptier than ever.
Retired, reeling, and quietly rebuilding, Landon retreated into the safety of his true passion—his motorcycle shop—and the comfort of anonymity. He didn’t want a relationship. He didn’t trust love. What he needed was an illusion of connection, one night of fantasy with no strings attached. So he booked a premium escort—anonymous, professional, transactional.
What he got was Toby Carmichael.
And for the first time in his life, Landon found himself wondering if maybe love was still possible—if it could be something more than performance and pain. But with both men shackled to their pasts in different ways, the road to healing would be anything but smooth.
Romantic Ties
Landon Jenks didn’t believe in love—not really. After a lifetime of being used, outed, and exploited, connection had become a luxury he couldn’t afford. He wasn’t lonely because he lacked options—he was lonely because none of those options had ever wanted him. Just his name, his money, his fame. So when the walls closed in and the ache for closeness became too much to bear, Landon turned to a discreet, high-end escort service—just one night, he told himself. One night to pretend someone saw him and chose to stay.
But when he met the escort—a beautiful, guarded man named Toby—nothing went as expected. Landon was awkward, uncertain, instantly ashamed of what he’d done. He’d paid to be wanted, but he couldn’t bring himself to use another man for his own comfort. Not after everything he’d been through. Yet Toby was patient. Gentle. He offered kindness instead of performance. Company instead of expectation. And for the first time in his life, Landon let down his guard—not in the bedroom, but in the quiet, vulnerable moments between.
Their first kiss was a revelation. Not because it was perfect or explosive, but because it was real. When they eventually gave in to passion, it wasn’t about money or power—it was mutual, charged with emotion, and utterly unlike anything Landon had ever experienced. But the high didn’t last. Even as they tangled together in bed, the line between fantasy and reality snapped back into place. Toby reminded Landon that he’d been paid for the night, and just like that, the illusion shattered.
Still, something had shifted. Landon couldn’t forget him.
A month later, unable to silence the pull in his chest, Landon arranged another meeting—not for sex, but for a date. He wanted to know Toby. To share a meal, a conversation, a few hours where they could just be. When Landon confessed that he wanted more—not ownership, not exclusivity, just more of Toby’s presence—Toby recoiled. Told Landon he was already owned. And left.
Landon’s heart cracked, but hope still flickered. Before Toby left, he’d said if anything ever changed… he knew where to find Landon. And Landon made sure of it. He prepaid for their old motel room and left a note with his number. Just in case.
So when the call came in the middle of the night, Landon didn’t hesitate. He rushed to the motel to find Toby waiting for him, vulnerable and honest in a way that made Landon ache. For the first time, Toby told him the truth—about the contract, the years of forced servitude, the danger to his family. Landon offered to run. To hide him. But Toby refused. So Landon drove him home… and immediately started planning.
He bought them time.
An entire week, purchased through the escort agency, where they could live in the space between obligation and freedom. One week to fall in love.
And they did.
They wandered the streets of Chicago hand in hand. They rode Landon's motorcycle and made each other laugh. They explored BDSM not as a kink, but as an act of healing—of trust, of control reclaimed. Landon, the world-renowned athlete, gave up control willingly, offering Toby the power to choose. In that surrender, they both found something rare: joy.
But Toby was slipping away again, and Landon could feel it.
Before the week was out, he threw everything he had—his resources, his contacts, his money—into finding a way to buy out Toby’s contract. To end it forever. But when he returned home with the news… Toby was gone.
Vanished. No note. No goodbye.
It wasn’t until Garret—Landon’s manipulative ex—appeared with a cruel confession that Landon learned the truth: Garret had twisted what little information he’d gleaned and poisoned Toby against him. Told him Landon was just using him. That it had all been a game.
But Landon had already made his move. The contract was paid off. The papers were signed. Toby was free.
When he showed up to deliver that freedom, Landon made one thing clear: he hadn’t bought Toby. He had liberated him. What Toby did with that freedom was entirely his choice.
And Toby chose him.
Not a mansion. Not a blank slate. Not a picture-perfect ending.
Toby asked to go back to the one place their love had first taken root: the dingy motel off I-55. There, they held each other, whispered truths that had been too dangerous to speak before, and finally, finally gave each other everything.
Not as client and escort.
Not as broken men playing pretend.
But as partners. Equals.
Home.
What was his problem? Nothing about what they’d done felt wrong. In fact, it had felt—it did feel—wholly and entirely right in every sense of the word. So why had Landon shattered into a million fucking pieces immediately following what was, without a doubt, the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced?
As Toby held him, crooning breathy pleas for forgiveness and gentle words of reassurance, realization settled over Landon like a lead blanket.
Whatever passed between them during that final exchange—right before his body found that ultimate release—had been more than permission granted and received. It had gone far deeper than that. It satiated an unfillable void and assuaged an age-old ache he’d always known was there but could never ease.
Perhaps his discontent and frustration all these years wasn’t as simple as he’d once thought. His inability to find true love, to find that connection he so craved, might have less to do with what the men he dated had sought to gain from him, and more to do with a vital, missing piece of his own mental puzzle.
Landon wasn’t broken. He’d been set free. Odd that the two could feel so similar, but intense, deep-seated emotion often brought on parallel responses, no matter on which end of the spectrum it fell. The fierce, foreign feeling had left Landon confused, adrift, and grasping for direction.
Thankfully, he had Toby. His compass. His rock. The only man who had ever cared enough to dig into Landon’s screwed-up psyche and help him discover a part of himself he’d never realized was missing. The only man who had ever stuck around long enough to hold him when he cried.
Fun Extras
“Are you dating someone?” Landon’s forehead creased. “Married?”
Toby shook his head. “No, it’s not like that.”
“Then how is it? If you aren’t with someone else, why can’t you be with me? I also meant it when I said I’d take whatever you could give. I won’t be needy. I-I mean, I guess I am being needy right now, but I won’t be if you agree to see me again. I’ll be happy with any time you can find to spend with me. Anything is better than goodbye. Anything is better than nothing.”
Toby’s heart clenched beneath his bruised ribs, drawing a pain deeper and more visceral than any physical wound. In another place, at another time, this man could’ve stolen his heart. And Toby would’ve gladly let him have it. “Landon, I’m a prostitute—”
“No, that isn’t a valid excuse. I told you I don’t care about that.” Landon’s palm pressed more firmly against Toby’s cheek. “I accept you for who you are.”
Why was Landon so infuriatingly kind, compassionate, and understanding? How could he look at a whore like Toby and see anything other than the countless other men he’d been with? Why would he want Toby for anything beyond that same purpose?
“I work every day of the week.” It was a lame excuse, but it was all Toby had.
“You told me ‘overnights’ weren’t common. So that means I could have you during the night, right? When you aren’t working? And my job is super flexible. I can be available at any hour of the day you have free. Part of the charm of being the boss.” He ran his thumb over Toby’s cheekbone. “And I’m not suggesting these times as hookups and nothing else. It’s obvious I’m attracted to you, and you’ve given me two of the most mind-blowing orgasms of my life, but I want more than sex. I want you. All of you. Heart, body, and soul. The total Toby package.”
