Silver Fox (Bridge to Abingdon Book 4)

by Tatum West

  “I have a new favorite place in the world,” Nikki says softly, gazing up at the foggy paint of the Milky Way.

  “Where’s your last favorite place?” I ask him, expecting a smart retort.

  Nikki takes a deep breath, sucking clean salt air into lungs better acclimated to LA’s smog. His answer surprises me.

  “A place you’ve never heard of,” he replies, nostalgia flavoring his tone. “It’s called McAfee Knob along the Appalachian trail, not too far from where I grew up. The view is like this, except it’s in the Great Smoky Mountains.”

  I’m astonished to learn my Nikki Rippon has hiked the A. Or maybe I’m not surprised at all. This is why I’m so infatuated with him; he keeps pulling back layers, showing depths he never lets on about.

  “You’ll need to take me there,” I tell him. “If it impressed you, it must be something.”

  He nods, not responding. “I’m cold again. Take me in and warm me up.”

  I can do that.

  In our bedroom, I take my time undressing Nikki in the dark, illuminated only by the light of a crescent moon just rising in the west. In the delicate light, he’s a vision with silvery pale skin and blond hair reflecting white; his blue eyes are almost crystal clear, haunting.

  I lay him down on the crisp clean sheets, making sure his head settles on the pillow. I hover over him, my breath hot against his skin; my cock is already hard.

  “Face to face,” I whisper, nipping Nikki’s earlobe, eliciting small moans, his fingers gripping my skin,. His hard shaft presses into my thigh, grinding into me. “Can I top?”

  “God, yeah. Thought you’d never ask,” Nikki moans into my chest, panting in response to the pressure of my hands at his hips. He reaches down, gathering our cocks together in his grip, stroking them in unison. His hand is hot and soft, just firm enough, and exactly what I like. Our lengths match nicely, despite the difference in our bodies. Nikki Rippon is well hung, with a beautiful cock of silk-wrapped steel.

  He could make me cum just like that, but I’m not going to let it happen. I separate us, briefly taking him into my mouth just to torture him before I leave his begging, hard prick alone and tend to his tight little hole.

  Using lubed fingers, I explore the space between his perfect ass cheeks. I press his knees up high against my shoulders, and I find him tighter than I expected. Nikki moans as I press my fingers against him, inside of him, touching and teasing the tight rim of muscle. My cock is almost impossibly hard, begging for entry, with drops of precum exiting my tip as I tend to Nikki with my hands.

  After rolling a condom onto my shaft, I push his knees back further, tilting him up to accept me.

  “Don’t let me hurt you,” I whisper, pressing my spearpoint into his opening, letting the lube do its job passively.

  “You won’t.” Nikki’s eyes meet mine in the dark. “But stay there for just a second.” His words are breathy and whispered. He exhales deeply as I hold myself just inside his opening. My whole body is screaming out to thrust forward until I release deep inside him. But I wait, moving ever so gently, never losing control.

  Fuck, he’s tight. Searing tight and hot. His muscles grip me, not admitting me, not letting me pull out. Still, he feels incredible. My body wants to power through, forcing. My head knows better.

  “Breathe again, baby,” I say, dropping my fingers low, caressing his cock where it’s pressed between us. “Just breathe and let yourself enjoy it, if it’s what you want. If not, I can stop. Tell me.”

  “Mm, this is just… what… I… want… Keep… going...” Nikki breathes deep between his words. I can feel him trying to relax against me, trying to welcome me in.

  It’s all I can do not to thrust hard, jamming myself past his muscle’s objections. Beneath me, I feel Nikki breathing deeply again, then exhaling. His fingers – which had been dug into my hips – relax. I feel his muscles slowly let go, admitting me into his depths. His hands encircle my ass cheeks.

  I push in and am enveloped in a world of velvety, molten heat, reaching into every cell of my being My brain goes hazy, focusing only on my hard length, Nikki’s tight hole, and the way he feels and smells beneath me.

  Nikki cries out, hands and fingers firmly drawing me in deeper. He matches my thrusts in perfect synchrony. His tight body is rigid, demanding, ankles going up, hooking over my shoulders.

  I lift myself so I can see him, needing to make eye contact while I fuck him. He gazes up at me, eyelids heavy, hooded. His pupils wide and black, a dazed smile turning his lips ever-so-slightly. I rock into him again and again with deep hip-thrusts. Every cell in my body fills with the sensation of being inside of him; my fingers and toes tingle with the pent-up desire and longing to be with him, to take him this way.

  Nikki groans, his hand coming back to his cock and stroking. His back arches upward as he touches himself, straining for more, for this closeness, this connection.

  He’s enjoying this. He likes bottoming as much as he enjoyed topping. That’s a miracle, and my good fortune.

  I could do this until the end of time. It could be that fucking Nikki Rippon is my singular purpose in life. Serving him like this is what I was born for. Letting him serve me is my greatest accomplishment.

  “Fuck, Fox, I’m gonna cum,” he huffs, his forehead tilting, crushing against my Adam’s apple.

  “Cum for me then,” I urge breathlessly. I pour in deeper, slowing down, letting him find his focus. “Smear it all over me. Load me up. I’ll drink it off our skin and beg for more.”

  That’s enough dirty talk to send him over the edge.

  “God… fucking… damn…” he cries, fingers digging trenches into my shoulders. He shudders beneath me, his body convulsing, head rolled back, eyes seared closed, a warm, wet pool of cum spreading between our bellies.

  My cock twitches. My balls draw up tight. I can’t hold on.

  I’m mid thrust, driving in deep, bottoming hard when I feel the condom break. There’s not a god-damned thing I can do about it, and it’s frightening on so many levels, I go soft, my orgasm evaporating into thin air.

  “Fuck,” I huff, heaving for air, holding onto Nikki so tight my muscles cramp.

  He feels it too.

  “It’s okay,” he whispers softly into my ear, his hands coming up, circling my head, holding me reassuringly. “I’m clean. I swear. I promise.”

  I’m clean too… but why is he worried about what I think, when he should be worried about my status? We should have talked about this. I’ve never had a condom break before, even though I know it happens.

  I pull out carefully, dragging the shredded condom with me. One look at it and I know there’s no way we didn’t just have very unprotected sex.

  “Jesus,” I breathe, tossing the thing in the waste can beside the bed. “I’m sorry, I…”

  “It’s okay,” Nikki says again, almost laughing beneath me, his hands holding onto me. “Really. It’s okay. I fucking hate condoms. I’ve never had sex without one. It’s about time I got to. Dispense with them from now on. Please!”

  Nikki has never had sex without a condom? How can that be? As soon as we’re prone, and our breathing has returned to normal, I ask him to explain it to me.

  His explanation is simple and, despite his nonchalant delivery, I find it both difficult to believe and tragic; he’s never had a relationship that lasted more than a week. He’s made a point of never getting involved with anyone he’s worked with. That left only fans and hangers-on. Once they find out the Nikki Rippon of their fantasies isn’t the guy they wanted to believe he is, they either move on or he sends them packing.

  “Fans listen to the song lyrics and they think the song is written for them,” he says, speaking into the crook of my neck while we lie together. “When they realize not about anybody, it’s just made to sell records, they either get disappointed or pissed off. They expect me to be the guy in the song, talking about dancing all night, and when they find out I’m not, they don’t like me anymore. They
tend to make themselves scarce.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I reassure him, pressing my lips to the top of his head. “And if you try to send me off, you’ll need to call the eighty-second airborne for back-up. You’re stuck with me. Condoms or no condoms, we’re a thing that isn’t ending anytime soon.”

  “I get tested every few months no matter what I’ve been doing with my time,” he says.

  “I do too. No matter what I’ve been doing. And I haven’t been with anyone else since I met you. I don’t intend to go out looking, either.”

  “Yeah?” Nikki asks, sitting up on his elbow, looking down at me hopefully. “Promise?”

  I cup my hand around the crown of his head, pulling him close so I can kiss him. His lips are irresistible; soft, slightly bruised, and sweet. Just like him.

  “I promise,” I tell him.

  Nikki kisses me for a long time, his hands exploring me, making gooseflesh travel over my skin like waves cresting. I’m growing hard again as I lie next to this beautiful human, his lithe, shapely leg thrown over my hip. I feel him reach down to my growing cock, his strokes starting slow and steady.

  “I finished,” he says. “But you didn’t. And I’d like to feel you inside me again.”

  I kiss him hard, our lips crushed together. “You sure?”

  “Honey, I’ve never been so sure of anything. I think I can even go again, too. I’ve never felt as good as I do in this moment, tonight. Don’t ruin it by being too cautious.” Nikki pulls me close and bites my lip, stroking me faster now.

  I let out a low sound, like a deep whine, and I barely know where it even came from. Nikki’s right—I’ve never felt as good as I do right now. And I’m not wasting this opportunity. I move my hand over his, gripping my cock. Roughly, I turn him so that he’s facing away from me, his perfect, round ass next to my cock.

  “God yes,” he groans. “I love it when you throw me around. I knew I would.”

  I grin, grabbing for the lube and quickly smearing it over my hardening length. I press more into Nikki’s tight ass; he moans with anticipation and pushes his backside toward me. He’s started stroking himself again, and I reach around to his front to feel his own cock growing hard again.

  “Benefit of dating a twenty-six year old?”

  “Almost twenty-seven,” he says, his voice breathy. “And I’ve never gotten it up twice in a row, not for anyone else.” He looks over his shoulder at me and bites his lip. “Fuck me, please, go on…”

  I don’t need any more convincing. I press against the tight ring of muscle. He’s still ridiculously tight, but slightly easier to penetrate this time. I moan deeply as my head enters him. I hear him, as if he’s speaking to me from very far away, begging me to fuck him, to go fast, to go hard. My mind tips away from consciousness for a moment, and I push into him all the way. The grip of his body is a tight vise, silken and hot. This time, there’s nothing between us. My bare cock impales him, and he groans with pleasure. He jacks himself off in time with each thrust.

  I’m almost there, so close to release. I hold off, pulling my cock almost all the way out and holding it there, before I slam into him again.

  When I close my eyes, all I see and feel is the color, the scent, the sound of Nikki Rippon.

  My rhythm increases. I’m unable to slow down this time, and Nikki urges me on, going faster and faster himself before he cums again, crying out as he does. My balls draw up tight. Deep inside my core, the pressure builds to a tipping point, each cell in my body flooded with intense, blinding pleasure. I push into him one final time and cum, hard, deep inside of him.

  We’re reduced to a puddle, a mess of limbs and skin, of kisses and caresses.

  After holding each other for a long time, we make our way to the shower and linger in each other’s arms until it’s long past our bedtimes.

  When we finally fall asleep, we rest close together, closer than I have ever been with another human being.

  I WAKE with the scent of clean salt air in my head, my arms and legs tangled up in Nikki’s. Extracting myself carefully so that I don’t wake him, I go downstairs to make coffee. James and Troy are already in the kitchen, having beat me to the punch. They’re both sipping fresh, aromatic brew, casually dressed in polos and chinos. They are both hunched over a tablet, peering intently at its screen.

  “What’s so interesting?” I ask, as I retrieve a coffee mug from the cabinet.

  James looks up. “Good Morning, sir. We’re looking at TMZ. The bastards wasted no time in figuring out where we were headed yesterday.” He lifts the tablet so I can see the headline and its accompanying image.

  The photo is of Nikki at the airport, signing autographs with his fans. I am barely visible in the background.The headline reads

  “Amid fallout with his manager, Nikki Rippon heads to the OBX for R&R with mystery companion. Who’s the lucky guy?”

  I sip my coffee, taking the tablet from James. I scroll down, scanning the article. There’s not much to it:. “Unnamed sources within LAX revealed to TMZ that the pilot of the chartered Bombardier Challenger 350 jet filed a flight plan for tiny Ocracoke Island on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. The flight plan didn’t include any information on who chartered the thirty-million-dollar aircraft, but Nikki Rippon, his security detail, and a large entourage were seen boarding it early Friday morning…”

  I hand the tablet back to James. “A large entourage,” I observe sarcastically. “I think they’re talking about Nikki’s luggage.”

  Tyler laughs while James gives me a wry grin.

  “You know what this means though,” James says. “It means someone will be here, and they’ll try and find out who you are.”

  I shrug. “It’s inevitable. I’m not exactly unknown in Hollywood circles..”

  “My point is, we may need extra security.”

  “For what?” I ask. “We’ve got two shifts, plus backup. This town has a population of eight-hundred people, tops. We may take a risk and go out to dinner tonight at Howard’s Pub. Where’s the threat?”

  James cocks his head in question, as if he’s confused about something.

  “Sir, I’m not suggesting added security for Nikki. I’m thinking of you.”

  For me? “Why?” I ask. “What in the world for?”

  Tyler’s expression is grave. “Mr. Lee, I’ve done a lot of detail work with celebrities. The fans get unruly and sometimes there’s a nut job or two you need to watch out for. Every celebrity I’ve ever worked with, if they were in a relationship and people knew about it, their partner received more credible threats than the principle. The stalkers were more aggressive. The fans were often abusive. You need…”

  I hold my hand up to quiet him. “Guys, stand down,” I say. “I’m fine. We’re on an island. No one’s here but us and a bunch of locals who couldn’t give a rat’s ass about me or Nikki. Aside from flying in – which is expensive – there’s only one way on and off this sandbar, and that’s by boat. If you’re really worried, go have a chat with the ferry captain and ask him for a head’s up on people coming over who don’t look like tourists or locals.”

  James and Tyler look at one another. They have worked together for a long time; I have no doubt they are having a whole conversation without even speaking.. Tyler finally nods. “I’ll get Spencer to go do it,” he says.

  “And we’ll tell Nathan to come over. We’re going to put together a perimeter watch the best we can.” James adds.

  “You guys are over-reacting,” I say, then something occurs to me. “How are you even seeing this shit anyway?” I point to the tablet. “There’s no internet out here. There’s no Wi-Fi.”

  James smiles, shaking his head. “Oh yeah there is,” he states, pointing toward the widescreen television in the living room. “There’s a brochure over there on the credenza with instructions for getting online, and the cable package includes HBO, Netflix, and Amazon Prime, along with about three-hundred other channels.”

  Okay, that’s ch
anged since last year. The community has been lobbying the state for almost twenty years to get internet access. I guess it finally happened. It’ll be good for the local economy, but it’s going to change things on this tiny island in dramatic ways.

  “I think it’s safe to say this place has at least a few curious teenagers who follow pop music,” James states. “Give ‘em a few hours to wake up, check their Facebook, text their friends, and we may have visitors.”

  Great.

  “Okay,” I reply. “For now, let’s keep this from Nikki. Do whatever you think is appropriate as far as security measures go, but keep it low-key. The best way to advertise our presence here is by not fitting in. The goal is to blend.”

  My advice might have been better delivered to Nikki. I take him coffee, hoping to wake him with it, but instead I find him freshly showered, getting dressed.

  I told him he wouldn’t find Topsiders in pink. I was wrong. They’re pink and lavender with gold flecks and jet-black soles. That’s not going to blend.

  “Like my outfit?” Nikki asks, spinning around dramatically.

  He’s appropriately dressed for a Marina cocktail party at the America’s Cup, not an afternoon on my catamaran getting sun.

  “Lose the sweater,” I tell him. “And unless you want to ruin that gorgeous shirt, I’d swap it for something a little more practical.”

  Nikki frowns, jutting out his lower lip. “But…”

  “We’ll go to the Marina for cocktails and supper,” I tell him. “You can dress for that. Do you have a rain jacket for the boat?”

  I’m almost afraid to ask.

  He lifts a brow, smiling. “I do,” he says. He proudly produces what I’m guessing is the first rain jacket Nikki’s ever owned in his life.

  My God, Nikki’s bought a Helly Hansen sailing jacket in their classic, bright red color. I’m actually jealous. That’s the nicest sailing jacket ever built. He could sail from Norway to Nova Scotia in that and never even get damp, much less chilled.

  “Cool,” I observe, casually. “I need to get one of those.”