Growing up in the suburbs of Seattle, Jackson Calder’s mother had called him her little Aries every time he’d done something fiercely independent. Something driven or headstrong.

Like dragging his tricycle up the neighborhood’s biggest hill when he was three and trying to ride down like the older kids.

Like the smart phone app he’d developed at fifteen years old that he’d been able to sell at sixteen to pay for his college education.

Or when he’d been a sophomore in high school and talked the quarterback’s girlfriend into making out with him in the janitor’s closet. Although he’d gotten his ass kicked for that one.

So his mom had called him her little Aries a lot.

Aries was more than just a star sign that Jackson’s birthday happened to fall under. Aries defined who he was. Aggressive, competitive, resourceful.

And if some people also called him an asshole, it was generally because they were obstacles between him and what he wanted.

Jackson had always gotten what he wanted, except for once. But even that had been because he had walked away.

Being an Aries was what allowed him to create and grow Calder Enterprises into one of the strongest media and investment firms in the country.

And a few years ago he and some other investor friends who were also into the BDSM lifestyle like Jackson had decided to branch out into the hospitality industry. They created one of the most sought-after adult-only resorts on the planet. 

And it wasn't even on dry land.

The Celestial was a 60,000-ton luxury cruise liner, that traveled all over the world and provided the opportunity for many different types of romantic getaways. BDSM, ménage, nude retreats... something different every few months. It set sail every Friday, almost always completely full, and was booked out solid for the next year and a half. People flocked to the Celestial wanting to experience the beauty of exotic ports-of-call and also have the freedom to meet and play with people who had similar sexual tastes while at sea.

Although he was the controlling owner, Jackson didn’t normally travel on the Celestial. He was usually based in his offices in Los Angeles, although he also had offices in New York, London and Rome. But this week he was on the ship.

To fuck a woman.

And, if he discovered she was the one attempting to steal from him, to teach her what it was really like to get fucked by an Aries. But not in the pleasurable way.

But right now the late spring Mediterranean sun gleamed off Jackson’s bare chest as he climbed the outdoor rock wall on the top deck of the ship. He helped design many of the details of the Celestial and a rock wall – a challenging rock wall – had been a factor he’d wanted included.

Challenge was required for all areas of Jackson's life. He didn’t give his best otherwise.

Muscles he used regularly in workouts still strained as he moved from one finger and toe hold to another on the wall. Since it was his ship, and because his lawyers had even made him sign a waiver, Jackson climbed without a harness. Danger always made a challenge more exciting.

He hoisted himself the last few feet and pulled himself over the top. He looked down at one of his best friends in the world: Donovan Parnaby.

“You climbing, Princess, or just going to take a nap down there? “

Donovan shot him the bird then began his own route up the wall. What Donovan lacked in Jackson's strategic planning, he made up for in brute strength. In a race up they probably would've been pretty evenly matched. It wasn't long before Jackson extended his arm in an offer to help Donovan over the top.

“You're a dumbass for climbing this without a harness,” Donovan said between breaths.

Jackson grinned and handed his friend a bottle of water. He’d done a hell of a lot more dangerous stuff in his years in the Army’s Special Forces a decade ago. Climbing a fifteen-foot rock wall was nothing, comparatively.

They both rested on the top of the wall for a few minutes, enjoying the sun. Enjoying that neither of their jobs — Jackson’s as multi-media mogul and investor, and Donovan as Jackson’s right hand man handling everything here on the Celestial — required their attention, at least for a few seconds.

“You going to the Black Mask party tonight?” Donovan asked as he took a few sips of water.

The Black Mask party was always a favorite on the BDSM cruises. Some passengers chose to wear full hooded masks that completely concealed their identity. It allowed people the opportunity to play with others without any added burden of knowing their identity. Others just wore half or partial masks that added to the air of mystery.

Some, like Jackson and Donovan, wouldn’t wear masks at all.

Jackson nodded. “It's the main reason I'm here.”

Donovan rolled his eyes. “You do know that there are masked events in both L.A. and New York, right? Hell, probably Rome and London too. You didn't have to come all the way out to the ship to find a BDSM event with masks.”

“I did if I wanted to get the chance to see behind the mask of the elusive Alexandra Silver.”

And to see if she was a criminal.

Donovan did a double take. “Alexandra Silver is here? On board?”

“SilverSystems called last week to see if there was space for her on board. She needed to do a software check herself. That they kept getting some glitchy feedback from their software and she wanted to get it sorted out.”

Donovan chuckled. “Doesn't hurt that Alexandra Silver is pretty deep into the BDSM scene and this is a BDSM cruise.”

“I offered her a free cabin, since she was here on business, but she insisted on paying for herself. That's fine with me.”

Jackson found himself loath to mention his concerns about Alexandra's potential criminal activities. He hadn't even mentioned it to Ian and Quentin Damascus, brothers and his dual heads of security on the ship. He would if he needed to. He would have no problem making sure Alexandra Silver – founder of SilverSystems, the hospitality software the Celestial used for all of its point of sales and guest services — was arrested if she was setting up her system to skim from Calder Enterprises.

But he would find out himself. Was actually relishing the challenge of such a personal nature. Especially since his cock had gotten hard thinking about Alexandra ever since seeing her at a BDSM club six months ago. It had been mask night there also. He’d found out that night Alexandra only ever attended masked themed nights.

She hid her face, but it hadn’t taken much for him to find out her name. Alexandra wasn’t that common, and she was listed as the owner of SilverSystems.

Finding out that a company who contracted for Calder Enterprises was owned by a woman who was a sexual submissive didn’t bother Jackson a bit. Some of the greatest business minds he knew – absolutely bloodthirsty in the boardroom and negotiation tables – were sexual submissives.

So Alexandra Silver may be a sexual submissive, but she was no pushover. Not that she did many business dealings in person. They were almost always over the phone or electronic. Given the nature of her business - software development – her lack of face-to-face interaction wasn’t uncommon.

As a matter of fact, Jackson had never met Ms. Silver face-to-face, outside of a BDSM club. And he’d certainly never seen her face-to-face without her mask.

He knew about her, knew she was forty years old and a widow. He would not have called Alexandra his normal type, but everything about her seemed to turn him on.

She may be forty, but her body could fuel fantasies. Nothing about her was fake: not her tits, not her ass. Not even her blonde hair that was also natural, he knew for a fact.

It was a refreshing change.

“Alexandra still sending you those letters?” Donovan asked.

And the letters. Holy hell, the letters.

If Jackson hadn't been determined to fuck her before, those sexy, hand-written scenes she crafted and delivered to him a couple times a month for the last three months had definitely done it.

“She has a gift with words.” Jackson's voice was rough even to his own ears. He'd spent more time jacking off to the letters he’d received from her than he had since he was a teenager watching dirty porn. Hell, the last few weeks he hadn't even been interested in sex with anyone else.

“She and I have had enough foreplay. It's time,” Jackson said. “I can't remember ever wanting a woman this much except…”

He didn't finish his sentence. He didn't have to. Donovan had known Jackson’s friend Scott Durham. He’d been there when Scott died. Had been there when Jackson fell in love with Scott’s way-too-young sister Lexi four years ago and walked away, leaving them both heartbroken.

Jackson never spoke of Lexi, but he never quite stopped thinking about her either.

Donovan clapped him on the shoulder. “A super-hot, older woman, who revs your mind as much as your body? That’s exactly what you need.”

“You up for a scene tonight?” Jackson and Donovan had shared women before. And he already knew Alexandra liked two men at once. Had witnessed it himself. Sexy as fuck.

“Always. You do know about her weird rules, right? She never has regular sex or any sort of vaginal penetration. It's always oral or anal for her.” Donovan chuckled. “Or, oral and anal.”

Jackson didn't know why Alexandra had refused to have traditional sex, maybe it had something to do with her dead husband. It didn’t matter. Jackson planned to be the person to help her get past that. In private, where he could make sure she was screaming his name.

With no more masks.