Chapter Fifteen

His sister, Colleen, had a way of throwing a wet blanket onto everything she touched. Why was that? Since they were kids, she was always stirring up the pot; either getting Tessler into trouble or causing trouble herself, she somehow involved her brother so he’d get stuck cleaning up her mess. They might be siblings, but they looked nothing alike, certainly didn’t act the same, or have the same moral compass, and that meant they’d never really gotten along. On a good day, Tessler tolerated her; on a bad one, Tessler went out of his way to give her a wide berth and stayed as far away as he could.

A soft touch on his forearm brought Tessler back into the moment—a perfect moment with a man who was changing the way he looked at life and at himself. Tessler’s eyes dropped to the spot where Mason’s hand was and where warmth was now radiating out in waves from that one simple touch. He placed his own hand on top of Mason’s and squeezed it.

“Where’d you just go on me?” Mason asked quietly.

“Childhood,” Tessler answered. “Sorry about that.”

“As long as you’re back with me now, it’s all good.”

They finished eating and talking about this and that and Tessler loved every minute. When he saw Mason push away his empty plate and moan, a sense of pride washed over him. Listening to the sounds of satisfaction come from Mason throughout their meal had Tessler discreetly adjusting himself more than once beneath the table. If Mason sounded like a porn star while he ate, he didn’t dare imagine the sexy noises he’d make in bed.

“Did you work while you were away?” Mason asked.

“I actually started writing a new story,” Tessler informed. “I did about forty k.”

“What does that mean?” Mason asked.

“I’m around forty thousand words into the manuscript,” Tessler explained. “My books usually run in the ballpark of eighty or ninety thousand words, so that is a great start to a new story.”

“Sure sounds like it,” Mason remarked. “Is this another installment to your Axis Of Babylon Series?”

Tessler swallowed the food in his mouth, set his fork down beside his plate, and briefly considered his answer. “This new one won’t be part of a series.”

“A stand-alone?” Mason asked.

“You know the slang?” Tessler asked.

“Some.”

Tessler sat back in his seat and decided to put part of himself out on the table. Maybe it was time he trusted someone enough to let them below the hard exterior he wore like armor. Maybe Mason was the one who’d be strong enough to hear it, and man enough to stand by him if there were ever any fallout from this truth in the future. His eyes shifted to Mason, who seemed to be waiting expectantly for him to say something. He appeared to be holding his breath, same as Tessler felt he was doing himself. Shit. This isn’t easy. He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“I need to tell you something, and I have to know I can trust you implicitly,” Tessler began. “Can I trust you, Mason?”

“I’d say something sarcastic right now, but I can sense you’re being very serious with me, so I won’t make a joke,” Mason said. “You have my word, and then some. Whatever you say, or anything we might do together, stays completely between us and only us.”

Tessler nodded and exhaled loudly. “You already know I write books for a living,” he explained. “What you don’t know is I do it using different names and that I write in different genres, too. I’m known for my work within the science fiction genre, but the money I make—the really big money, comes from another genre and a particular trilogy that no one knows I wrote.”

“Is that why you keep such secrecy about yourself?” Mason asked. “I Googled you on the internet and couldn’t find a single photograph of you anywhere.”

“And you won’t. That’s not a coincidence,” Tessler stated. “It’s why it is extremely rare when I do any kind of public appearance or book signings. And when I do, I refuse photographs and attend wearing a hat and dark glasses that are never removed. I can’t risk the backlash if it got out who I am.”

“Can I ask why?”

Tessler pressed his fingertips into his eye sockets.

“If I ask something too personal, just tell me to shut the fuck up,” Mason said. “No hurt feelings and no explanation needed. I’m just trying to figure out my boundaries with you, that’s all.”

Tessler shook his head and forced a weak grin onto his face. “It’s not that, it’s more the fact that only very few people have complete knowledge of all three of my identities. The main burden of protecting those identities rests solely in the lap of my agent, who also acts as my business manager.”

“Sounds complicated,” Mason added.

“It’s beyond complicated,” Tessler explained. “I wanted to be honest about this years ago, but the agent I had at the time urged me not to. He said the mystery behind me was a driving factor in book sales and also due to my charitable donations.”

“I’m not sure I’m fully following you,” Mason said.

Tessler paused for a moment, then stood up from the table. “Let me clear the table, then we’ll go sit by the fire pit and get comfortable, and I’ll tell you the rest.”

Mason helped him carry the leftover food to the counter. He covered it up with the plastic wrap Tessler had handed to him and then set everything inside the refrigerator while Tessler loaded all their dishes into the sink.

“You wash, I’ll dry?” Mason suggested.

“Nope, you and I are going to pour ourselves another glass of wine and go get comfortable on that couch by the fire,” Tessler said. A moment later, he had Mason seated beside him with those expectant eyes waiting for him to finish his story.

Tessler sipped his wine as if looking for liquid courage, then folded a leg up under him on the cushion. “After I started to make some serious money, I wanted to give back in some way,” Tessler began. “It was a matter of finding the right charity for me to help. It was right around that time when I heard about an old boyfriend who was beaten to death because he was gay.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry to hear that,” Mason sighed.

“I hadn’t thought about him in years, and hearing of his death prompted me to look into what he’d been up to before he was murdered, since I’d lost track of him after our sophomore year in high school,” Tessler said. He took a slow breath before he continued. “He was outed when his parents found out he had a boyfriend. They sent him to live with relatives in another state, and when he ran away from that relative’s house, he bounced around in foster homes for a year or so until he aged out. Same sad, old story, but when it happens to someone you know, it really hits home. He managed to do all right for himself, though, and decided to dedicate his life to being a camp counselor to help LGBTQ teens get a leg-up in life. He was driving a camp bus covered in rainbow flags and filled with kids from the facility for a day trip somewhere and stopped for gas.” Tessler swallowed hard and Mason touched his leg to try and soothe him.

“You don’t have to talk about this,” Mason whispered.

“I want to,” Tessler countered. “It’s okay. His story needs to be told.”

Mason nodded in support and Tessler took another sip of his wine. “It was while he was standing beside the bus pumping the gas when three guys jumped him. They called him all kinds of names for who he was and for driving a bus loaded with other fags, then they just started beating on him in full view of the kids on the bus. It happened so fast, even the kids couldn’t get to him in time to save him. Witnesses said he was trying to get away from his attackers when one of the guys used a tire iron to land the fatal blow.”

“Holy fucking shit,” Mason said. “Please tell me they caught the guys!”

“Oh, they did and they’re all doing life in prison, but since I heard about that horrific story, I decided to dedicate a large portion of my royalty money to continue to fund what he was doing. In the last four years, I’ve opened up six more camps in his honor.”

“What are the camps called?” Mason asked.

“His name was Lancing Littleton, so I used his initials and named the camp organization Lancing’s Legacy,” Tessler said. “The kids like to refer to the facilities as Camp Double L.”

“I’m so sorry about your friend,” Mason said softly.

“Well, the reason I’m telling you that long story is because my ex-agent feared if word got out who was funding the camps, and where the money was coming from, some of the kids might not be allowed to attend since a few of the organizations helping out with resources have religious undertones in their backgrounds. I didn’t want to give anyone a reason or an excuse to take a pass on offering assistance.”

“People would care where the funding was coming from, more than the services being provided to the kids?” Mason asked.

“When kids are involved, yes. That’s the simple answer,” Tessler said. “They’d be subtle about it, and their reason for not funding would be disguised as something else, but the bottom line would be obvious to me. It’s why I’ve been using my birth name to fund the camps. This is just one more example of why, after several years, I’m still hiding behind pen names. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to openly admit to those pen names or that what I’ve written makes a lot of fucking money. I might never be able to step forward and tell the world what I did in Lancing’s name, and sometimes that bothers me.”

“Can you tell me the genre?”

Tessler smiled broadly. “First, I’ll tell you the name of the trilogy and see if that rings a bell.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“The Black Key Trilogy,” Tessler stated. “Does that sound familiar?”

“Those books came out a few years ago, right?” Mason asked. “They were all over the news back then, and a movie was made about them. I also seem to remember the storyline was really controversial. Am I correct?”

“Yeah, three very toned-down, vanilla movies were made about each of the books in the trilogy,” Tessler offered. “Hard to believe they could somehow sanitize a story based on a sex club and make it seem mainstream enough for the horny housewives of middle America to enjoy.”

“Sex club?” Mason almost choked on the words.

“The Black Key is the name of a very exclusive and private sex club for gay men,” Tessler explained.

“The place in the story really exists?”

“It does and I took a risk in writing about it, but since I published it under another name, no one really knew who was responsible for the story,” Tessler admitted.

“Now, I remember,” Mason said excitedly. “The stories are about a young guy’s sexual discovery at this bondage club.”

“Well, it isn’t all about bondage, but there are a few restraints used here and there,” Tessler said. “I broke all kinds of long-standing sales records with that series. I’m not sure why it struck such a nerve with the readers, but I’ve lost count of how many millions of copies I’ve sold internationally. By the time I hit twenty-two, I was already a very rich man.”

“I’m trying to remember the name of the author of that series,” Mason said thoughtfully.

“LJ Mechum,” Tessler said.

“Is that your real name?” Mason questioned.

“No, that’s just another pen name I used solely to write The Black Key Trilogy,” Tessler said. “LJ stands for Lancing Jacob, and I used the last name of my creative writing professor in college.”

“So is Tessler your birth name?”

“Nope, that’s the pen name I use for my science fiction stories.”

“And your birth name?” Mason pushed.

Did he dare spill it all to Mason? Tessler’s gaze dropped to his lap, and Mason softly touched his knee.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Mason said. “I’m asking too many personal questions, so I won’t push for the answer to that last one,” Mason said and chuckled. “I’d be too confused to pull off having three names though,” Mason commented.

“That’s exactly what I’m dealing with,” Tessler admitted. “It’s becoming more difficult to keep the three lives separate, and I’m losing the real me in the process. I also fear that one day all three identities could be forced into one, and I’m not sure my career or if I myself could survive that.”

“I knew you were complex, but I never would have imagined just how much,” Mason said.

“Is it a dealbreaker for you?” Tessler asked.

Mason shook his head. “No, not at all,” he said and slid closer to Tessler on the couch until they shared the same cushion with their shoulders touching. “I’ve got baggage, too. I mean, we all do, right?”

“I suppose so,” Tessler said and fidgeted uneasily in his seat. “Would it be a dealbreaker if I told you I was the young guy discovering his sexuality in that sex club?”

“What are you saying?” Mason asked. “The trilogy was about you and your experiences?”

Tessler nodded and his face heated. “Almost all of it was about me, but some of it was completely fictional.”

Mason’s eyes went wide and then he turned his face away. “Jesus, you’re so young now,” he whispered. “How old were you when you went to that club?”

“Twenty-one,” Tessler admitted. “That was the minimum age they’d allow.”

“You were only twenty-one?” Mason’s voice was strained, to say the least. “How did that happen? I mean, how does a kid of twenty-one find his way into a place like that?”

Tessler stood up and tossed a few more logs into the fire pit. Mason’s words were sounding more and more judgmental by the second, and he wasn’t sure he could handle it if Mason walked away from him now.

“The first agent I signed with was more than an agent,” Tessler said as he poked at one of the flaming chunks of wood. “I was young and stupid and had a libido of most normal kids that age. Compound that with the curiosity so many authors seem to have, and I found myself gaining access to that club as the guest of my agent.”

“You’ve packed the life experiences of ten men into one,” Mason replied.

“I guess so,” Tessler stated and shrugged.

“And you participated while at the club?”

Tessler drank the rest of the wine in his glass and reached for the bottle for a refill. “Not at first, but eventually, yes,” he answered. “I learned a lot about myself during my time there.”

“Any regrets?” Mason inquired.

“Not one,” Tessler managed to say. “Except for maybe going with someone other than my agent.”

“Why’s that?”

“He was a mind-fucker and always wanted things to go his way,” Tessler said and sat down on the far end of the couch. He kept his gaze on the fire and not on Mason. “Soon enough, I started to say no to him, and he wasn’t happy about that. When it was time for me to sign a new contract with him, I decided I didn’t want to and chose to walk away. We went our separate ways after that.”

“How long were you together?” Mason asked.

“We were never together, as in a relationship, but from a business standpoint, we worked together for around two years.”

“But I thought you said you went to the club with him,” Mason said.

“If you’re asking if we fucked, then yes, we did, but there was never any kind of boyfriend ‘relationship’ thing going on between us,” Tessler explained and used air quotes around the word relationship. He shifted on the couch again and rubbed at his temples. “Look, I’ve been with a lot of men, and like I said before, I have zero regrets about any of it. That part of my life is over and done with, but if it’s a problem for you that I have that in my past, then you’re not hurting my feelings if you want to leave.”

“You think I’d want to leave because you used to go to a sex club?” Mason asked.

Tessler finally turned to look at Mason. “Well, yeah. Isn’t that why you’re asking all the invasive questions and sounding judge-like?”

“I don’t mean to sound like that; it’s not my nature to pass judgment on anyone, either,” Mason said. “I’m asking the questions because I guess I’m … curious about it. I’ve never known anyone who’s gone to a place like that and it intrigues me.”

“Yeah? It really doesn’t bother you?”

Mason chuckled. “Not in the least,” he answered. “If anything, I’m a little jealous that you’ve managed to cram all that fun into your young years.”

Tessler slumped in the seat and started to laugh loudly. “Holy shit! I thought I’d scared you off by telling you that,” he confessed. “That’s exactly why I don’t tell anyone who I really am.”

Mason shook his head. “I’m cool with it,” he said and inched closer to Tessler on the couch. “Maybe you could share a few stories about the club with me or perhaps you could … teach me something?”

“Like what?” Tessler asked. “The proper way to bind someone so as not to restrict blood flow to their extremities?”

Mason stared at him with a warm smile for a long moment before he finally said, “Can I kiss you again?”

Tessler answered by slipping his hand behind Mason’s neck and pulling him forward. He pressed his forehead to Mason’s and inhaled. “You don’t have to ask if you can kiss me, and I’m sorry I brought up my past and who I really am. I didn’t do it to kill the mood of our night. I did it because I want to be honest with you.”

Mason rubbed their noses together. “It’s not killing the night, Tess. I’m just so happy to finally be here with you, and I’m thrilled you shared that piece of yourself with me.”

“Did you just call me Tess?”

“I guess I did,” Mason replied. “Is that a bad thing?”

Tessler sat back a bit and considered his answer. “I don’t believe anyone has ever called me that, except for maybe my current agent,” he remarked. “He might have referred to me as that once or twice. It sounds kinda girly, don’t you think?”

Mason laughed at that. “Believe me, no one would accuse you of being girly,” Mason said. “Everything about you screams all man.” And fuck! I’d love you to be my man, too.

“Tell you what, you can call me Tess because I like the way it sounds coming from your mouth,” Tessler said. “But no one else gets to have that privilege, okay?”

Mason’s fingers sifted through Tessler’s soft, dark hair. “I like having something private with you,” he whispered right before his mouth covered Tessler’s in a kiss that stole his breath.

Mason tasted of steak and wine and complete decadence in a way that was all new for Tessler. It was like having a true taste of the forbidden because what he had growing with Mason was like nothing he’d ever allowed himself to have before now. He hadn’t felt safe enough to give someone any real part of himself like this, but he also hadn’t had a partner who he wanted that with, either. With Mason, everything felt real, like the motion picture had suddenly switched into Technicolor the way it had in the Wizard of Oz movie, and everything was that much more vibrant to look at.

Beautiful splashes of radiant color fired off with Mason’s kiss like a lightning storm inside Tessler’s head. It was his own private celebration with each new dip and swipe of Mason’s tongue as he played inside his mouth. It was beyond perfection. Their connection was hot, fierce, and urgent, and Tessler couldn’t get enough.

“Need more,” Tessler sighed.

“More kissing?”

“Jesus, yes, all of it,” Tessler mumbled almost incoherently.

“Are you about to serve me dessert?” Mason asked as he started to suck on Tessler’s throat.

“I’m about to blow a load in my pants,” Tessler said and pitched his hips up seeking friction against Mason’s groin. “I suppose that could be considered dessert.”

“Nah, you’d need to serve that to me in my mouth for it to be considered dessert,” Mason said.

Tessler grabbed a hold of Mason’s hips and used his strength to flip them over on the couch, then straddled his lap. Seconds later, he made a show of pulling off his shirt, undoing his belt, and opening his zipper. “You really want me to serve you dessert?” he asked in a husky tone.

“Fuck, yes!”