Behind the Mas

All characters are at least 18 years old.

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I broke away from August, panting hard and staring wide-eyed at him. I collected myself in an instant, turning away from him to go sit at my desk, crossing my arms in front of myself. He stayed where he was. He seemed to have an acute awareness of giving me space when I needed it.

"I hate this," I murmured.

"Doesn't seem like you do," he said dryly.

"No, I mean..." I looked away, opting instead to study my unlit computer monitor. The black uniformity was helping me gather my thoughts, though it was still competing against a maelstrom of emotions.

"You don't like losing control," he guessed. I didn't respond. It probably wasn't a difficult conclusion to draw. He went on, "Losing control plunges you into the unknown. You're too used to being the master of your domain, and now here come two characters disrupting your life. And the unknown terrifies you."

"'Terrifies' is a strong word," I remarked, my indignation causing me to meet his gaze again. "I'm not some timid lamb awaiting slaughter."

"You're the wolf?" he said with a grin.

"I'm the hunter."

He nodded in comprehension. "Artemis indeed."

I gave him a faint smile. "So. You hate beets, huh?"

"Taste like dirt."

I couldn't help laughing, then pulled a leg up so I could rest my head on my knee. "Y'know, admitting your biggest fear to somebody is usually a big deal. Or do you just tell everybody that?"

"Well, I needed something to break the ice. Thing is, you're a glacier, so I had to bring in the big guns," he chuckled.

"Dying unhappy, huh? Care to elaborate?"

He shrugged. "Want me to talk about myself even more?" he asked skeptically.

"Consider it me getting to know you. Jury's still out, after all," I replied with a grin.

He chuckled once, sitting on the ground and leaning on the wall. "Fine. Well... Mom went through ten hours of labor. I was almost stillborn. Weak heart growing up, just about crapped out on me as a teenager. Found a donor, and for once I felt strong. I wanted to do my part, wanted to make my dad proud, wanted to make a difference. So I signed up."

"The Marines?"

He nodded. "And it turns out..." He let out a hollow laugh, one that chilled me to the bone. "... I didn't make any difference at all. Only thing I did was toss my buddy's helmet, my pack, and myself on top of a 'nade. Dunno if it was a shitty one or I just got lucky, but I didn't get put out for too long from it. Didn't even leave a scar. But as for making a difference..." He grew a far-off empty look in his eyes. "What was even the point? All those people we tried to help... They all died anyway."

I watched him as he struggled with his story. This whole time, he had been gentle, thoughtful, witty. But now he looked broken, in a way I probably never could imagine experiencing. He saw the way I was watching him and tried to muster a smile.

"Figured out we weren't there to help anybody. I believe the term is 'disillusioned.' I'd heard the theories. I didn't know what to believe, but all that mattered then was keeping my team safe. Took the 'nade, got shipped back, and I guess whatever strings my benefactor had pulled to get me in weren't enough anymore. They found out about my heart, and I got discharged. Can't say I fought against the decision very much." He sniffed, sucking his teeth. "And could you imagine? If, after going through all that, after fighting to live for so long, I died miserable? Fuck that." He shook his head before turning back to me. His gaze wavered once or twice as fleeting thoughts consumed him, but eventually he pulled himself together for a grin. "Your turn."

"Excuse me?"

"You're not seriously gonna sit there and listen to me pour my heart out, and then not reciprocate," he said with a smirk. "Unless you want me to guess." I gave him a challenging hop of my eyebrows, and he chuckled. "Alright. Hm..."

He made a big show of scrutinizing me, and I sat pretty as a picture while I waited. His exposition made me wonder if that was his motivation in seeing where this engagement went. Did he believe he could be happy with me? He didn't strike me as a proponent for hedonism, so he wasn't in this just to fuck me a few times. He wanted something real, for the same reason he signed up as a Marine in the first place: he wanted to matter. Perhaps his ambitions had become more realistic, going from saving the country to simply being important to one person.

"You're afraid of being alone," he said matter-of-factly.

I scoffed. "That's an interesting conclusion, because I'm dead-set on being alone."

"Eh, I don't think so." He said it with such casual confidence that I clenched my jaw. "You don't invite all your friends, and a dude you're trying to keep at arm's length--" He jabbed both thumbs toward his chest. "--in order to be alone."

"It's more in a spiritual sense. Girl's still gotta party."

"And I don't think you feel alone because you can't find somebody," he went on. I realized I was holding my breath. I knew what he was about to say next. This guy could see right through me. "I think... it's because you lost somebody."

"Yeah, my childhood sweetheart moved to another city in the fourth grade and I never saw him again," I sighed wistfully, and he snorted.

"The fact that you said that as a deflection rules out that possibility." I saw the moment when realization dawned on him, when he realized I hadn't simply gone through a breakup. He nodded it off, avoiding eye contact and finished with an awkward "Anyway."

He was right, he was sharper than I gave him credit for. And on some level he understood me better than my friends outside in the pool. This uppity prick.

"Hey. C'mere," I said.

Surprise lit his face before it turned to amusement. He got to his feet and approached, and I rose to meet him. He stood over me, with all the brawn of a trained soldier, and all the innocence of a young boy, and it felt like my body was vibrating with need. Maybe I was a slut after all.

I stood on my toes and whispered in his ear, "You have a girl in her room wearing a flimsy bikini. What are you gonna do?"

Cupping my face with one hand he pulled me into a soft, chaste kiss, then stood back and smiled. Total boy scout. Were I more impulsive, I would've shrieked in frustration. This guy definitely knew how to keep me guessing. And he knew how to push my buttons.

He let the moment sink in just long enough before scooping me off my feet and depositing me in his lap as he took my place in the chair. My arms had instinctively wrapped around his neck, and now I was laid across him perfectly. Separated only by our swimwear, I could clearly feel his girth underneath me.

"Very impressive," I commented, before my words were swallowed up by a kiss as he pressed his lips to mine. His hands were in my hair again, and he pulled me close until my breasts were pressed against him. He was rock hard under me, but his hips remained stationary. I guess it was up to me to grind on it. I mean, if I wanted, I guess. Guys who respected boundaries were pretty hot, as it turned out.

"Lexi..." he groaned as I anchored myself on the chair arm with my feet and began moving back and forth on his lap. His member quickly rose, tenting in his trunks and making it a bit easier to rub. His kisses grew more hungry, and a few of his fingers were tentatively stroking the strap of my bikini top. This thing was so tight, slipping it off would have been effortless. But here he was, urging me to take it off myself.

"You gonna make me do everything myself?" I teased.

He groaned in pleasure before replying. "Well you're a strong... independent woman. Pretty sure... you've got it handled." He clenched his jaw to maintain control as my camel toe gave his manhood another pass.

"Strong, independent women like to be pampered too, y'know. And handled."

"I won't be able to stop myself," August warned.

"You're right. Wouldn't wanna rush things." With that, I swung my legs off the chair and stood, leaving him gawking at me in shock. He finally scoffed and nodded in accepted defeat, pushing his erection down one leg of his trunks instead. His eyes still scanned me hungrily, and it turned me on more knowing how much he wanted me.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"Be glad you even got past handholding before marriage," I said with a wink, and he rolled his eyes.

"I'm gonna get you back for this," he threatened, and I grinned.

"You'll never get the chance." I booted up my computer and checked my messages. Alain reported that his team was ready. I glanced back at August. "Hey, you remember we talked about surveillance on my mailbox?"

"Sure."

"I have a pair of trustworthy guys--"

"Yours?"

"Yup. They're gonna set up the cameras aimed at the mailbox. Then, when they're done, you have the letter sent here, and we see who comes knocking."

"You realize we might only have one shot at this, right?" I was back on his lap again, albeit this time sat on the thigh that didn't have his dick running down the leg. "We're assuming that since they're using your address, it might be somebody close to you. One of these guys, even."

"Alain vetted them. They should be clean."

He nodded. "Alright. I'll let my mom know to send the letter out then."

I turned back to the screen, thinking about the trap we were setting. He was right. If Charles was behind this, we could only do this once.

"Should we be going?" August asked.

"Hm?"

"Your friends are probably thinking we're banging by now," he pointed out.

"Shit!" I raced to the door, and in an instant, August had hooked me around the waist and spun me back into his arms. With a hand resting on my hip, he used the other to tilt my head up for one last kiss. For a split second I forgot about my friends again and just let him do what he wanted. God, this was so out of character for me. Before we met, I would never have imagined I would be okay with surrendering control of a situation to somebody else. I'd wanted to only love Jordan, not letting any other man have me, but eventually I had realized I would probably need a strategic marriage for certain business situations. I'd given it some thought. Probably some malleable simp that would enslave himself to me, since I wasn't about to submit to some man I'd picked off a vetted list. Or maybe even a sociable gay guy that needed his conservative folks off his back. He could have his affairs on the side, I just needed him on my arm for political reasons. Nothing romantic or sexual at all.

Or I could pick somebody I actually liked, like August.

I broke the kiss, heart pounding. I really needed to speak with Leon about how to move on from a lost loved one. I knew what I was doing wasn't healthy, but the thought of letting go of Jordan still broke my heart. I knew from Coco and Cherry that Leon had loved his late wife to pieces, and it had taken him eighteen whole years to move on. I could be forgiven for fixating on my cousin for five, right?

I stared at August, panting and lost for words. How could I articulate how I felt to him? Would he make light of my loss? Was it fair to him to enter into a relationship when my heart still belonged to another? The last time I had this many questions, Alain was still showing me the ropes of the industry.

I calmed myself and walked out without another word, only to find that my pool was empty. Snatching up my phone from the deck chair, I saw Brie had texted me, saying everybody had wanted to give me space and time with August.

"Where'd everybody go?" he asked as he came up behind me.

"They think we're together now," I muttered. I didn't appreciate that I'd inadvertently ended my pool party. I'd have to clear things up and schedule another one. We still had a chance tomorrow, since Coco and Leon didn't have work again.

"Wait 'til they hear we're betrothed," August quipped as he laid down on a deck chair.

I pinned him with a glare. "You let me handle breaking the news, got it?"

He held his hands up defensively. "Yeah, of course." When I sat down he lay back to watch the sky. "So what now? We still getting to know each other?"

"Sure. Go ahead."

He laughed and turned to me again. "Yo, I've been doing a lot of talking so far. 'Bout time you spilled some beans of your own."

"Such as?"

He thought for a moment. "How'd you get into this business?"

I sighed deeply, looking off into the distance. "Charles. My father."

"Family business?"

I wanted to snap at him, but managed to reel it back. "No. His and my business are distinctly separate. Same industry is all."

"Your dad runs sex clubs?" He laughed, shaking his head. "My mom was a secretary. Alright, so you went into business on your own. How'd that happen?"

"Charles and I had... a little bit of a falling out."

"Little bit, huh? And that explains why you call him by name now."

"Indeed. He didn't believe in true love. He was jaded, bitter, cynical, who knows. But I decided I wanted to prove him wrong, and rub in his face everything he was disgusted by." I shrugged. "He's more traditional, as far as sex empire tycoons go."

"Taboo," he said in understanding. "You wanted to break the rules over his head. Audacious, especially for a... How old were you when this happened?"

"Fifteen?"

He looked at me in astonishment. "And you've only been doing this for four years, and you're already at this level? Ha! That's... badass."

I chuckled once. "I'm glad you approve."

He was quiet for a moment, and I could hear him muttering under his breath, "Two, four, six..." He raised his head in epiphany then gave me a sidelong glance before thinking some more. Then he shook his head in disbelief. "I see. So your friends... That kind of taboo, huh?"

I didn't respond, and we stared each other down. I hadn't denied my friends' incestuous relationships, which was an admission all on its own, but I was waiting for him to indicate how he felt about it. Something enigmatic crossed his expression, and I settled into a glare. "If you endanger their secret in any way, I will reduce your life to dust, before doing the same to your body."

With that same mysterious look, he replied, "Threatening a federal officer is a felony, Miss Rochester."

"You seem to have forgotten that I'm an expert at bending rules."

He got a challenging glint in his eye and smirked, before softening and seemingly backing off. "Arrogance is dangerous, Lexi. Everybody needs help sooner or later."

Where had that come from? It was as if August opened his mouth, and Jordan's voice came out. "Who's gonna help me, huh?"

"I dunno. Your friends?"

"They don't know."

August leaned his head back with a sigh. "Hoo boy. Right, got it. You like orchids." With a groan he sat up. "Y'know, it feels like you hide yourself from everybody. Most people show different sides of themselves to different people, but you... you take it to a whole other level." I garnered a certain pride in that. "And sometimes it's almost like nobody actually sees you when they look at you."

I didn't respond, and we just lay there in the sun together, lost in thought. And finally, so quietly he couldn't hear, I breathed, "And that's what terrifies me."