Phoenix

"We look like Oompa Loompas," James grumbles.

I zip up my clean suit. Yes, we look weird, but it's necessary. The facility we're touring has a large clean room, and I need to be sure it's set up to my satisfaction. James straps on his surgical mask and pulls on goggles over his hood. The crinkly material of the suits makes whish-whish noises as we move and is decidedly unflattering. Even James in all his musclebound hulking glory looks lumpy and misshapen in these outfits, like a sea creature trapped on the sands.

"This can't be over with fast enough," he mutters.

"Oh, relax," I tell him.

After we emerge from the locker room, I start to sweat. These suits are impermeable, so if we keep them on we'll end up soaked. It'll be cooler in the clean room, but not cool enough.

James looks askance at the airlock but passes through after me. I have a hard time not tuning out the facility manager as she goes over the production schedule with me. James follows behind me.

"So where are the dinosaurs?" he says.

Cindy, the manager, laughs cordially at his joke.

"Oh," she says, "I've never heard that before. Yes. A Jurassic Park reference. No one ever does that in a clean room."

James glares, aware he's been mocked, but shrugs it off in good humor and we continue the tour. After we've been through the clean room and I have a chance to look over the expensive equipment, it's back to the locker room to change out of the suits.

Most of the work here is done and we'll be starting up soon. I have a whole slew of investors and clients to meet with. The CDC and NIH want to see me, plus some European firms and agencies. It'll be a busy time over the next few weeks.

Sometimes, just sometimes, I feel a little odd when I stop and realize that everyone around me, everyone, is older than I am. Cindy is almost as old as my mother would be, and even James is ten years my senior. It never strikes me as weird, until it does.

After the clean room tour is finished, while we're stripping out of the protective suits in the locker room, James says, "at some point, someone needs to explain to me what you actually do."

"Better living through chemistry," I deadpan.

"These meetings are like watching a conference of historians talking to each other in ancient Babylonian or something."

"Getting bored?" I say, sauntering over to him. "You're not here to be entertained."

"Could have fooled me," he says, smirking. "You seem to put a lot of effort into my amusement."

"Amusement?" I snap. "Is that what you call it?"

"Something like that," he says, smirk widening into a grin.

I glare at him, eyes narrowed.

"Phoenix?" Cindy calls into the dressing area without entering. "We have a bit more to go over."

"Come on," I say, motioning for James to follow me.

The rest of the facilities tour is even more interminably boring. Cindy gets excited over the loading docks. That's why I hired her. She lives for logistics. There was a time not long ago when I'd be lost in details with her, but now my head feels like it's full of concrete whenever I try.

I don't need to be involved in everything down to the most minute detail.

When she's finished, I give nods and approval and tell her to deal directly with the contractors, expressing my trust.

A deep sigh of relief escapes my chest when we step outside. The air is crisp and cool, more autumn than late summer, and even in my hooded sweatshirt, I shiver. James prowls beside me like a protective wolf, scanning the tree line.

You can never be too careful, so I had this campus built on a broad parcel of land running along the border of some state forest land. Even when it's operational it will be only discreetly marked with minimal signage. I want anyone who passes by to assume it's a data center or the like.

The other benefit to that is the walking trails. They'll be for the employees after the place opens, but right now it's all deserted, winding pathways through the woods. I turn away from the range rover and head up one of the paths.

James follows, wary.

"Where are you going?"

"For a walk," I announce over my shoulder. "I don't get to go on many nature walks. Besides, it's a little more private than Central Park, don't you think?"

"I guess," he says.

"Oh relax, what do you think is going to happen? A bear will run up and carry me off?"

He tenses. "Not impossible, really."

I stop and look back at him.

"Wait, what?"

"There's black bears up here. They're usually not aggressive unless they've been fed, but a big one can run five, six hundred pounds. No joke. Black bears are involved in more maulings than browns and grizzlies."

My eyebrow twitches. "How do you just know these things off the top of your head?"

"Lots of bears where I grew up, too. Bears, deer, the works. Even heard an elk once. Didn't see, just heard it."

I stop and put my hands on my hips. "What does an elk sound like?"

James looks at me, then squeezes his nose, opens his mouth, and lets out a shrill, nasal sounding bleat.

I stand there for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"You're messing with me."

"I kid you not," he says, catching up to walk beside me. "You'd never guess if you didn't know what it was."

"Did you ever go camping? I mean real camping," I ask. "Not a cabin."

He snorts. "We counting my time in the army? Sleeping in a hole is definitely camping."

"In a...hole?"

"Sleeping holes, yeah. Had to dig in. Artillery drops, you don't want to be above ground. It's good cover. I only had to do that a few times. I wasn't supposed to be in combat, but where I had to go, combat had a way of deciding where it wanted to be without asking for anyone's input."

"But before that."

He shrugs. "Not really, no. We couldn't afford a good tent. A few times my sister and I 'camped' in the backyard with a lean-to made of an old sheet and some rope, but I wouldn't call that camping; not really. Especially the one time when we were covered in mosquitoes and ran in the house screaming."

A smile lights up his face. He stops and puts his booted foot on a rock, one hand on his knee, and takes a deep breath. Looking out over a low gully and a stream bed, lit by the afternoon sun filtered through leaves just starting to turn, he's incredibly handsome.

Looking this way and that to make sure we're alone, I move up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist. His back flexes against my chest as he breathes, and his muscular stomach ripples under my arms. Leaning on him, I sigh and relax.

"What are you doing?"

I can't help but grin as I run my hands between his legs, over his jeans.

"What do you think I'm doing?"

"Stop that," he says, but doesn't do anything to actually stop me. His shaft starts to harden immediately, and once I feel it through the denim, I run my hand down its length, stiffening it with every stroke.

"Your pants must be getting tight," I say.

Mine are. I pump against his backside, pushing the hardness of my cock against him.

"If you keep this up, I'm going to make you do something about it."

"Like this?"

I tug his zipper down and guide his cock out of his pants. He gasps when the cool air hits it. It's so hot in my hands, and gets hotter and harder as I stroke it, while rolling my hips against him.

"Get around here in front of me," he almost snarls, pulling me by the wrist.

I grab his shaft and he thrusts his tongue in my mouth, kissing me hard while I stroke him. He sucks and tugs at my lips with his own, and finishes each kiss with a tiny, soft bite, just enough to feel his teeth.

"If you keep that up, there's going to be a mess all over you."

"I think I know what to do with that."

Dropping to my knees, I take him in my mouth. He slides his hand over my head and down the back of my neck, shuddering when I look up at him and suck, pulling him in deeper.

A rustling sound in the woods makes me freeze. I take him out from between my lips and hold his manhood in my hand while I look around. James roughly grabs the back of my head and pushes himself back into my mouth. Hungrily, I attack his cock with my lips and tongue, savoring the taste and the way his scent burns like coal hot in my lungs. I'm so hard it hurts, and I free one hand from pleasuring him to open my pants and relieve the pressure.

I draw back again, and when James tries to pull me to him again, I wriggle out of his grip and step back, stroking my cock as I prance a few steps away.

His huge member bobs in front of him as he moves, his rippling body full of muscular power.

"What are you doing?"

"I brought something with me," I say.

"What?"

I pull the condom from my back pocket, and the small bottle of lube from the other."

"Did you seriously bring a bottle of lube and a rubber to work?"

"Maybe I want to live dangerously."

"I would think last night was enough for you."

"My asshole throbs for your dick."

He stops. Then he laughs.

"The mouth on you now, mister 'language.' Get over here."

I make as if to run, but it's a short chase. He grabs my wrists and pulls me to him, then spins me around.

I lean against a tree. The condom wrapper opens with a snap, and I turn to watch him roll it down his big shaft, shaking with anticipation. He slathers himself with the lube and then roughly slips a slick finger up my ass. Roughly, he thrusts with it, opening me up. Gasping, I arch my back and shove my ass out as he spreads me with a second finger.

His hand withdraws.

His fingers are big, but no amount of fingering and stretching prepares me for this. He's huge, and as he glides into my ready, willing body, my heels come up from the ground as I fight the urge to clench. The feeling of invasion is the most joyously unpleasant sensation, a shock of surrender and crushing stimulation that makes my head spin. James is not rough or cruel, but he's not gentle either, and I don't want him to be.

I almost come just from feeling his hips mash hard into my ass as he stuffs all of himself inside me, pushing the air out of my lungs. My cock quivers in the cool air, tingling with the pressure from his shaft against my insides. My head dips between my outstretched arms and I let out a low moan, moving with him as he pulls and pushes my hips to stroke in and out, in and out.

My legs quickly begin to shake. He slips a hand around my waist and leans over, planting the other on the tree, his thumb pressed over my pinky. Groaning, I push back into him as he takes my cock in his slick hand, stroking as he thrusts.

Whimpering from the intensity, I tighten up as I try to hold back, and he groans from the squeezing, moaning his hot breath against my ear. With every thrust he picks up speed and intensity, pushing in harder, deeper, filling me. The world is between my legs. My knees start to give, and he holds me up.

Then he slows, stops, his cock buried in me to the root, panting as he strokes me faster and faster, until it almost hurts but it feels so good, the energy building between my legs like a coiled spring about to explode from being over-wound. He hooks his arms around me and pulls me up, pressed against his chest, almost lifting me from the ground. I twist and find his mouth and kiss him as he pleasures my throbbing shaft.

Just as I'm about to explode, he lets go and hammers me with punishing, lifting thrusts, driving deep into my body. I'm lost in the current of it—the heat and thickness of him inside me, the sensation of his balls, tight and hard, pressed into my body, my skin against his, his hands crushing into my chest to hold me up as he fucks my brains out.

My orgasm fades from the edge he carried me to—only to come back with a vengeance. The burst of pleasure between my legs ripples out through the rest of me uncontrolled, swirling around inside. I come hard and fast, in time with his thrusts into my body. Coming without touching myself, without anything touching me, feels so good I can't stand it and I cry out, my voice echoing through the trees. James grabs my hips and pumps, using me as he finishes.

The feeling is delicious. I'm totally in his control, bound in his hands. He almost lifts me off the ground. My whole body jerks. His cock swells even bigger when he comes, and I feel it like tickling, tingling pulses ringing through my flesh.

Panting, he holds me against him, the throbbing connection between us making my head swim. I can barely stand up, squeaking as he draws out. Oddly, it's the void that follows when he pulls away that's the only real pain I feel, and I like even that, the empty soreness. I feel...slutty, and I like it.

Panting, I jerk as James gives me a final stroke with his hand and turn beet red as I stuff myself back in my shorts and yank my jeans up. He grabs my ass and squeezes, and I groan. I should be satisfied, but I just want more.

Turning, I shove my hand between his legs before he pulls off the condom and cup his balls.

"I hope you've got more, because I can take it."

He laughs and bats my hands away, then tucks himself away. Half hard, his pants still carry a big bulge that fills me with lust.

Then he has me against the tree, his mouth to mine, his tongue hot between my lips.

"Do you want to try it with me?"

I blink. "Could I?"

"You could," he says.

I spring to full hardness again immediately.

"We should get back to the cabin."

Despite that, I walk the opposite way, taking the nature trail for a loop. The cool air pulls sweat from my upper lip as we walk, and it takes me a while to stop panting. My heart was racing a thousand beats a minute there.

I even take his hand for a while. He doesn't pull away. He squeezes.

Back at the car, we pile inside and drive aimlessly with the windows down. Cool air rushes over me, and I lay in the seat, half asleep. The world of business and engineering and custom proteins seems so distant, it's like a dream, a memory of a life I once had. I've never felt anything like this.

My hands will not leave him. When I'm not stroking his arms, I'm resting my hand on his stomach or across his thigh. When he pulls up to the cabin, I can only briefly separate from him before putting my arms around his waist as we stumble inside.

When we're in, he grabs me roughly and drags me to the middle of the room and thrusts me down on the couch.

Then he's pulling off my jeans, having tossed my shoes across the room. He yanks them off roughly. My heart pounds and my chest heaves with sharp breath at the thought of being inside him as he was inside me, but this doesn't feel like the tables have turned. I feel like he's about to eat me alive, and I want it.

Soon he has me naked, and then he strips, baring his magnificent body. The sight of his hard cock is enough to bring me to full arousal again, but he leans over me and kisses me and drags his mouth down my body anyway, driving me wild as the wet heat seeks the urgency between my legs. When his mouth closes around my shaft, I almost explode right there. He wets me thoroughly with his lips and strokes and sucks, working me in his fist for a while before he rolls a condom down my shaft and slathers me with lube.

His hand snakes around and grips the back of my neck. The other seizes my cock, and he straddles me and sits. Blinding heat envelopes me and I gasp, instinctively thrusting to meet it as I groan. This is good.

All that sense of surrender is still there, shockingly. Straddling me, he sits in my lap and his weight presses me down. He presses his eyes shut and breathes hard, his cock quivering above my stomach.

"You're pretty fucking big," he says.

I moan as he does something, flexes some muscle deep inside, and almost lose it right there. He puts his hands on either side of my neck, fingers tight on my shoulders, and moves.

If I could bend myself to get my mouth on him, I would. I satisfy myself with my hands instead. Seeing him this way, his big cock thrusting over my stomach, I feel a little queasy picturing all of that slamming into my body. He's huge.

"Slow down," he grunts.

I slow my hands, letting him do most of the work. His stoic calm is gone and he moans and grunts, full of animal, masculine energy. My cock feels like it's doubling in size with every pulse, a different kind of energy now, like he's pulling something out of me. He moves his hips faster, and grunts.

I won't be able to hold back much longer. Not much longer at all. When I arch up into him, he bucks even faster, riding me now until the pleasure blurs into sweet pain, release coming on too fast, too hard. I cry out as I explode, a different kind of eruption, heat radiating from my body as I thrust up into him, my cock pulsing.

He stands, grabs me, and pulls me up to his manhood. I push him into my mouth and move with him, a shocking thrill of fear ripping through me as his erection pushes down my throat and he explodes as he thrusts, fucking my face with the intensity that he rode me and fucked me. I grab his ass and push, my eyes rolling back as he lets go.

Then I fall back, panting, and stare up at him, satisfied. For now.

Taking my hand, he pulls me to my feet, and I revel in the sudden realization of comfort. I'm totally at ease with my nudity in his presence now. I guess I should be; there's no reason to be a prude around someone who's face-fucked you.

I giggle at my internal joke and he looks at me askance.

"What's funny?"

"Nothing," I say. "Let's clean up and get dinner. I want to eat something evil."

After a quick, slippery shower that only keeps from turning into more fucking because we're both spent and exhausted, I towel off and dress. James yanks up his pants and throws on a flannel shirt, looking so manly I want to lick every square inch of his skin. I can't keep my hands off him.

He pulls me into an embrace and presses my head to his chest, his hands firm on my back and hip. He ruffles my damp hair and kisses the top of my head.

It's a half hour ride back to town, where James pulls in to the parking lot of an Eat 'n' Park. I stare at the sign for a few moments in disbelief before following him inside where a friendly hostess leads us to a table and offers huge menus of such a wild variety of food that it would take a year to try everything.

"Get the chicken fried steak."

"The what?"

"Just trust me."

After I place my order, and we've been offered warm biscuits, I lean back in my seat. James jerks, as if something is bothering him.

"What?"

He slips his phone out of his pocket and discreetly checks it, then sends back a text message.

"My sister," he says. "She wants me to come see her."

"Is something wrong?"

He doesn't answer, instead sipping sweet tea.

"It's complicated."

He tucks the phone away and drums the table with his fingers.

"Let's go see her," I blurt out without thinking.

"I should go alone. She can be difficult."

"Difficult?"

He goes quiet as the waitress returns with our food. I wait for a while and lower my voice.

"I don't understand."

He jabs at his meatloaf with his fork, staring down to talk to it instead of addressing me directly.

"When I went in the service, she roomed with a girl she knew from school for a while. She was working to get through community college. She met this guy Doug, studying to be a welder." He seems more interested in mutilating his meal than eating it. "She got pregnant after six months, but she miscarried. Lost the baby."

"That's awful," I say. "I'm sorry."

"I didn't know why until later. He pretty much beat it out of her. He beat her a lot. There's...there's a reason I didn't end up as a local cop back home like I planned."

I tense, disinterested in my food now, too.

"What happened?"

"About six weeks before I get out, she was getting ready to get rid of him permanently. He could never find work, he hit her, he was hanging around with some bad people. He got into crystal."

"Crystal?"

"Methamphetamines. Working for a cook, selling shit to high school kids. He was going to end up in prison sooner or later. When she went to move out, there was a fight."

My stomach drops past my knees. My mouth has gone dry.

"Funny thing is, he didn't do it, not exactly. It was his fault, but he didn't do it. He shoved her and she fell wrong, hit her head on the corner of the counter and fractured her skull. She was out for six weeks, and when she came around...she wasn't the same. Brain damage. She couldn't live on her own."

"Then what happened?"

"I got home. Doug had rabbited, you see. The locals couldn't get a bead on him, but I could. I found out where he was, and...an eye for an eye. He doesn't remember what happened. I reached an understanding with the local boys that I wasn't going to stay, and I wasn't going to be joining the force. I started doing this work for the money to keep her in a good place. I'm having her moved to a higher class facility a couple of hours from here now that I've got the money from this job coming in, and they're moving her tonight. She's disoriented, scared."

Speechless, I open my mouth, and close it.

"If you'd told me, I'd have made arrangements for you to go."

He presses his eyes shut. "It's not that easy."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't be a hundred percent strong a hundred percent of the time," he says. "I'm not a robot. She can be difficult. She's not always herself."

I reach across the table and rest a hand on his. He glances at me hard and flicks his eyes across the room to a pair of burly men, watching us with intent eyes. I draw my hand away slowly.

"I didn't want you to look," he says.

I swallow, hard.

"Right," I say. "I'm sorry. Why don't we go?” I motion for the waitress. "I'm not going to make you go see her, but you can if you want."

After profusely, if unnecessarily, apologizing to the waitress and leaving a huge tip, I ride with James back to the cabin.

"You can go," I tell him, "I'm fine here. Nobody knows where we are."

He paces the living room for a few minutes, then says, "I should go. Are you sure you can stay here?"

"Nobody could possibly know where we are," I assure him. "I did everything and set it all up myself. Besides, how long will you be gone?"

"A couple of hours. You could come with me, just hang out while..."

"I don't want to intrude."

He chews on that. "I don't want to leave you here."

"You won't be gone long. I'll be fine. I'll be in bed."

"What about the stalker?"

"The stalker can't possibly know where I am."

"I've heard that before," he mutters. He checks his phone.

"If I leave now, spend an hour or two getting her settled in and calmed down, I should be back by midnight at the latest. Are you sure about this?"

"I'm sure. I'm just going to relax, do some work."

He nods. "Alright. I'll be back."

After he steps out, I lock all the doors and check the windows, except for the one up in the loft that no one could possibly access anyway, being fifteen feet off the ground.

Working makes my head hurt, the world all blurry. I could use a nice rest.

Sighing, I close up my laptop. There's no light up in the loft, which is pretty annoying. I roll onto the bed and lie there, sighing.

"I hope he's alright," I say.

A soft but strong hand closes over my mouth and something hard and metallic presses into my side.

"He doesn't matter. You're safe with me now, lover," she says.