by Tatum West
I shake my head. “It’s more personal than that, and I’d just prefer not to be his attorney anymore.”
He glares at me. “You’re sleeping with him?”
“Something like that,” I admit. “And Nikki has well-earned trust issues. I want to remove all those concerns before we go any further.”
Stephan shakes his head, staring down at his hands, then looking back up at me he says, “Sure. I’ll take him if he’ll have me. Have you discussed this with him yet?” I can detect the faintest hint of disapproval in his voice, but I can’t parse exactly why. Things like this happen in the industry time and time again, and it usually ends poorly. That could be it, or it could be that he disapproves of Nikki altogether. I know for sure that I have zero fucks to give about how Stephan feels. Nikki Rippon is different than most stars in the industry, and I don’t have to justify that to anyone.
“No,” I reply. “We’ll talk about it tonight. Assuming that goes okay, I’ll transfer all of his files and contacts to you, and alert everyone on the team, including the contractors. I’ve got a PI named Ellis Robards doing some ground work for me. I’ll introduce you to him. He’s very good and very discreet.”
Our lunches arrive.. Over my tacos and Stephan’s turkey sandwich, I brief him on everything that’s happened so far, from the missing money, to the stalker last night, to Sal Domenico’s call.
“Kinda works out well,” Stephan observes as we finish up. “It’s an active project, and Rippon isn’t exactly low profile or low maintenance. With you going on vacation, he might have felt neglected.”
I nod, agreeing. Stephan’s observation gives me an excellent idea. I wonder if Nikki would like a nice, secluded beach vacation far away from the nonsense of LA?
I ARRIVE at Nikki’s place just as his security detail is changing shifts. Troy and James meet me on the stairs on their way out.
“We just handed off to Tyler and Spencer,” James says, pausing to talk as Troy continues onward toward his vehicle.. “It was an uneventful day for the most part. He got a call from the old security guy – Derek – that freaked him out. He’s been a little spun up ever since. I don’t think it’s the first time the guy’s called him.”
Damn. “Did Nikki tell you what he said? What he wanted?”
James shakes his head. “No. After the call, he went upstairs. He came down a few hours later, and hit the treadmill for almost two hours. I don’t think he’s eaten anything all day. There’s hardly any real food in the house,” he adds. “All Nikki eats is lettuce and rice thins. I’m worried about him.”
“Thanks for telling me,” I say. “I’ll see what I can do. I can at least feed him.”
Who does two hours on a treadmill? Who does that on an empty stomach?
From what Nikki has told me, Derek and Sal encouraged this kind of behavior. They monitored his body fat, tracked his calories, hired personal trainers and pushed Nikki out the door to yoga classes to “maintain his figure” for the cameras. Nikki is deeply entrenched in the lifestyle now, a servant to the Hollywood idea that Derek and Sal pushed on him for so many years.
I find Nikki inside, watching a black and white film. He’s nursing a half-gallon bottle of Pellegrino like it’s a pitcher of margaritas. He looks drained and unhappy until he sees me. He brightens, jumping up, coming to me with big smiles and hugs.
He’s putting it on, trying to look upbeat. He’s a lousy actor. Good thing he decided to be a pop star.
“James told me Derek called,” I say. “And that you’ve been in a mood ever since. What happened?”
Nikki deflates like a stuck tire, his smile fading to a grimace. He drops to the couch and just stares up at the ceiling.
“I thought discretion was their byword,” Nikki snaps, his tone brittle. “James can be a little too talkative for my tastes.”
“James is worried about you,” I observe, plopping down on the couch beside him, pulling his feet onto my lap. I pull on his toes to see if he’s ticklish. He’s not. “I’m worried about you too. So, to dispel my worries and make us both feel better, I’m ordering Chinese. Do you like hot and spicy or sweet and sour?”
Nikki tilts his head in my direction. “I’m not hungry,” he says.
“I don’t care,” I tell him. “I’m hungry. And you do need calories.”
He shakes his head. “I ate a lot of crap yesterday. Today I fast. Otherwise I’ll get fat and you won’t like me anymore.”
“Bullshit,” I say, offended at the implication. “That’s your shit, not mine. I’ll take you anyway I can get you, but I’d prefer you healthy. I know you know what’s going on. This isn’t about food or getting fat or me or anything except you feeling untethered, and you don’t know who to trust or what to do about it.”
Nikki groans. “You’re making me lose control.”
“Everyone needs to lose control of the things that hurt them, the things that bring them down. Maybe it’s time to loosen up, just for a little bit.”
“How’d you get so smart?” he asks.
“Law school. And working with celebrities. You didn’t invent this nonsense,” I say, nodding toward his movie, a nineteen-thirties classic; The Bad Sister. “It’s been around since Bette Davis. Probably since the original Cleopatra.”
He sighs, blinking at me. “Hot and spicy, please. I hate sweet and sour.”
Over dinner, gorging ourselves on General Tso’s chicken and Mongolian Beef delivered from Kung Pao Bistro, I drop the bombshell that I don’t want to be his lawyer anymore.
“It’ll be okay,” I assure him as he blinks at me with the biggest, most confused doe eyes I’ve ever seen. “Stephan’s a fantastic attorney. And he’s straight, so I don’t have to worry about you seducing another lawyer.”
Nikki is horrified with my joke. He stops chewing, just staring at me.
“I don’t understand,” he says. “Did I do something to piss you off?”
“No. Far from it,” I laugh. “Of course not. I just don’t want the conflict of interest. I’m still going to give you advice when you need it, but this way there will never be a question about my motivations. I’m not charging you, and I’m not involved in anything your new attorneys do. I’m walking away from it.”
Nikki regards me with silent confusion. “Seriously?” he asks. “You’re doing that so I’ll trust you?”
Not much gets past my Nikki.
I nod, chewing a tasty slab of Mongolian beef. “Yeah, I want you to trust me,” I say after swallowing. “You, your parents, and that guy on your wall upstairs with the very big gun. That Gil guy. And Zane.”
Nikki smiles for the first time since I’ve been here. “You’d love Gil and he’d love you. You’re a lot alike. You remind me of him so much.”
“Except for the body armor and guns?” I ask.
“Except for those things,” Nikki agrees. “Your personalities are alike. Strong and loyal, confident. He’s never been ashamed of being gay. He made me feel stronger, like I was confident enough to do what I wanted with my life. ”
I grin at him, teasing. “Sounds like a catch.”
“He’s a catch. Like you.” His face becomes quite serious. “He’s also one of the very best people I’ve ever met. He always does the right thing, no matter what, even when it’s hard.”
Now I’m intrigued. I guess Nikki really loved this guy. I wonder if they…? It doesn’t matter. That was years ago, when they were kids. They’ve both moved on since then. Haven’t they?
“I see your wheels turning,” Nikki says, pleased with himself for making me jealous. “Gil and I never had a thing. It wasn’t like that. He was just a really great friend. One of the few people from my home town who I genuinely respected – and trusted.”
I accept his explanation, and I secretly hope that one day – somehow – I have an opportunity to meet this soldier who made such a lasting impression on Nikki. He must be quite a man.
“What if I don’t like Stephan?” Nikki asks, redirecting.
“You’ll like Stephan,” I assure him. “Everyone likes Stephan. He’s much better with people than I am. I’m kind of an asshole.”
Nikki nods, completely deadpan. “Yeah. That’s true.” He pauses a beat and gives me a wry smile.
I let it go, instead going where I know Nikki doesn’t want to. “Speaking of assholes, what did Derek want?”
He huffs a sigh. “He was a jerk. He told me if I didn’t pay him severance for him and his crew, he’ll sue me.”
“Bring it on!” I laugh. “I’d love to put that one in front of a judge.”
“You’re not my lawyer anymore,” Nikki observes coolly. “He also said a bunch of mildly threatening stuff, like I had better hope we don’t run into each other in a club. He said he was looking forward to giving me exactly what I deserved. He made some crass anti-gay remarks.”
What a vile creature. That settles it. When we have all the financial issues sorted out and the legal cases have been closed, I’m turning the dogs loose on Derek and Domenico. They’ve bilked Nikki for millions, and now they’re threatening him because we’ve turned off the faucet. They’re nothing but thugs.
“I guess I’ll just never leave the house again,” Nikki says, resigned. “Between stalkers and toughs who want a piece of me, this is the only safe place to be.”
“Not the only one,” I say. “I know a place you might like.”
I tell Nikki about my vacation plans, and the remote island off the coast of North Carolina where I go for a few weeks every year.
“The only way on or off is by boat,” I tell him. “And this time of year, the total population of the island is less than a thousand people. No television. No internet. Intermittent cell phone coverage. And miles of empty, white sand beaches, beautiful blue ocean, and great food.”
“Sounds great,” Nikki says, raising an eyebrow. “Are you telling me so I’ll know why you’re leaving me alone here with Stephan and James?”
“I’m asking you to come with me,” I say. “I own a house there, and a boat. I rent the house out eleven months of the year. This month is mine. I called last week to have the boat taken out of dry dock and delivered to the marina. Do you like boats?”
He shrugs, smiling. “I have no idea,” he says. “I’ve never been on one except a party boat at Santa Monica, which was more of a barge than a boat, I think.”
“We’re leaving on Friday,” I say. “Pack for cold, wet weather. Pack some for sunny hot days on the water. The weather there is fickle. It could go either way.”
Nikki grins, sitting up straight. “I don’t own a raincoat or boat shoes. I need to go shopping!”
I should have guessed he’d parlay our nearly-deserted-island getaway into a shopping expedition.
“Don’t buy Prada boat shoes,” I suggest. “Stick with Sperry Topsiders and a simple watertight jacket. Don’t be crushed when you find they’re not available in pink. It’s a limitation, I know, but you can handle it for a few days.”
He smiles knowingly. “No pink,” he says, dipping his chin suggestively. “Maybe I’ll go all butchy for this vacation. Stop shaving my legs and pits, wear cargo pants, and eat bacon for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
“I could work with that,” I say, unable to conceal my grin. “Especially the bacon part.” I lean forward, setting my Mongolian beef aside. I reach up, cupping his chin “We can do things… Things I want to do to you… Things I want you to do…”
Nikki smirks, licking his frosted lips. “I can work with that,” he almost whispers. “I think I’d like finding out what you want me to do.”
“Hang around,” I suggest, brushing my lips against his. “You’ll learn a lot.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
NIKKI
If there were any fortune cookies mixed in amongst the containers of rice and noodles; soup; spicy chicken and beef; and spring rolls I missed them. I was much too preoccupied feeding soba noodles to Fox with chopsticks, while straddling his lap.
He’s quitting me as a client so he can keep me… as a boyfriend? He asked me to go away with him. We might be going steady. I need to ask.
He likes to laugh and play. His smile is sunshine to my Vitamin-D-deprived skin. I tease him and he enjoys it, playing along, snapping at noodles dangled over his mouth like a hungry wolf. His eyes flash with humor, the fine creases in the corners deepening with every laugh.
Fox Lee is dashing, lacking pretense, and I think he may even be a fine person, despite his claims to assholery. I can’t see it. All I see is a kind man filled with life who’s downright fearless.
Tyler and Spencer have been remarkably absent tonight. I know they hear us. They know what’s going on. They’re keeping downstairs, letting us have our fun. I’m not used to this. Derek and Sal both edged themselves into every minute aspect of my life. I could barely jerk off in the shower without someone inquiring what I was up to.
This is nice, having a life beyond my celebrity. Maybe Fox and I wouldn’t have met, and maybe he wouldn’t like me if I wasn’t famous, but he doesn’t bring it up. He’s not preoccupied with the idea that I’ve been on the cover of Rolling Stone every year for the last four years. He doesn’t seem to care about all that.
“Last night you ran the show,” I say. “You didn’t let me do anything. I want to…”
“What do you want to do?” he asks, slurping a noodle from my chop sticks, chewing quickly and swallowing. “Tell me.”
“What do you want?” I ask, finding myself at a loss. I’m the one with the groupies. I’m supposed to be the debauched superstar. I find myself unequal to this man between my legs.
“I want you,” he says, “to enjoy whatever we do, without worrying about who’s doing what or when. I want you to relax into wherever this takes us.”
“Tonight, I want it to take us to you, cumming in my mouth,” I state boldly. I’ve never said anything like that aloud before. Something about Fox gives me permission to be bold.
He grins, leaning back on the couch, his palms coming to a rest on the tops of my thighs.
“That’s a start,” he croons. “What else?”
Jesus.
“I… I… I don’t know. Tell me. Show me.”
“Okay,” Fox says, taking my hand in his, threading our fingers together. “Can I tell you one thing, before we go there?”
I nod, feeling butterflies in my belly again, an excited chill pricking my skin.
“I enjoy this. I enjoy you. I appreciate you,” he says, a wondrous smile coloring his already luminescent face. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you. I never thought I would.”
He sits up straight, circling his hands around my waist, pulling me close until our faces meet, sharing breath.
“I’ve never resigned on a client before. I’ve never had a relationship like this with any client, ever. And I sure as hell never asked anyone – anyone – to go to Ocracoke with me. That’s my special place where I decompress, completely alone. I never wanted to share it before. You’re racking up a lot of firsts, Nikki Rippon. I’m not playing around. If this is a fling to you, you need to let me know now, and let me down easy.”
Oh. Good. Lord.
“It’s not a fling,” I tell him. “I’ve never been here before, so I don’t know what this is. But I’m not about to let you down or let you go.”
“Good answer,” Fox growls before burying his face against my neck. His scruff is sharp and scratchy – deliciously so – and his bites and kisses send a thrill of shivers down my spine. His hands, so strong and certain in how they hold me, pull me even closer until the tension between us threatens the seams of my jeans. I rock in his grip, finding an easy, grinding cadence I hope feels as good to Fox as it feels to me.
I lose myself in his kisses, surrendering to lips, tongue, fingers, teeth. My body quickly aches for more, wanting to feel Fox on top of me, inside me, immobilizing me with his size and power. I want to feel his hands locking mine in place. I want him to possess me completely because I’m sure t
hat’s what he wants too.
“Upstairs,” Fox huffs, his teeth grazing a nipple, tongue pressing and sucking while he roughly fingers the other one. He licks my breastbone, pressing his nose in firmly, then says. “We need to explore new things.”
What things? I wonder. He’s got something in mind.
“Come on,” he says, sliding me backward off of his lap so my feet touch the floor. He grips my hands in his as he stands, facing me, pausing to kiss me hard on the mouth before leading me toward the stairs with a self-satisfied smirk drawn across his lovely face.
It’s clear to me—and probably to Fox too—that he’s got way more experience at this than I do. I’m in over my head with him. He’s far ahead of me, and I’ll be lucky to keep up. Last night, I didn’t keep up. He switched everything up on me. I was floored, flabbergasted. No one has ever been with me quite like this.
The other thing that’s making me nervous is the fact that I’ve never been with anyone like him; so butch, so masculine, so… in charge. It’s sexy as fuck, but it’s also scary because I don’t know what to expect next. I suspect he’s an exclusive top. He gives fantastic head, but I’ll bet that’s where he draws the line.
I hope I’m wrong, but it won’t matter a bit either way. I like Fox too much to let a little thing like who fucks who and who gets fucked to screw up a good thing.
I hoped Fox was coming tonight, so I did a little advanced staging of the bedroom, beginning with clean sheets and towels folded neatly on the pillows just in case we get messy. Lube and condoms are set out on the nightstand, along with several bottles of spring water and Pellegrino, plus a clean crystal tumbler and the bottle of Scotch Fox liked.
Fox breaks out in a wide grin. “Confident, are we?” he says, not really asking.
I nod hopefully, licking my lips, squeezing his hand. “Optimistic,” I clarify. “Hopeful.”
He pulls me toward the bed, falling backward playfully, pulling me on top of him. We both laugh. His hand cups my head, holding me in place.
