Captain Silver Fox, page 13
Brantley's hands slipped under his T-shirt, finding his nipples and twisting. Fox let out a grunt of pain into his mouth, which made Brantley lick the insides of his mouth in a soothing kiss, before he flicked his nipples again. Fox’s mind and body were at war with each other, too many things happening at once. All he knew was that it was not enough.
His hands went for Brantley's pants, making quick work of them. Seconds later, their bare cocks bumped into each other. He reached for Brantley's ass again, but the man stopped him, taking his hands and pinning them above his head with one hand. Oh, Fox could've freed himself, but he didn't want to. Not when he saw the dark look of desperation in Brantley's eyes, that fierce need.
"I need you," Brantley whispered against his throbbing, abused lips, and it was as much a plea as an announcement.
Fox nodded, knew what he asked.
"It's not gonna be gentle," Brantley warned him in between kisses. "Hell, I don't even have lube."
"It's fine. I fucked myself with a dildo right before the dinner. I’m still loose and slick inside.”
That had Brantley stop the assault on Fox's mouth for a second. "That's seriously hot."
"It was to make sure I wouldn't embarrass myself when I saw you again," Fox admitted, his voice a hoarse whisper. For some reason, this man had him revealing his deepest secrets. It wasn't just that he couldn't pretend with him. He didn't even want to try.
"I want you with a force that scares the fuck out of me," Brantley said in an equally emotional voice, resting his forehead against Fox's.
He leaned in again for another kiss, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and scraping it with his teeth before slowly releasing it. "So take me."
Fox swiped his mouth with his tongue, as possessive as if he owned it. "Yeah? That what you want?"
"I want you," Fox said simply.
With one last kiss, Brantley pushed him around, pinning his hands against the door, but now facing it. All Fox could think of was that it was finally about to happen again. Brantley would fuck him again, claim him again, and everything would be all right.
Seconds later, Brantley's cock pushed against his hole, and he widened his stance, canted his hips, and pushed back to let him in. True to his word, Brantley wasn't gentle about it, surging all the way in in one thrust, taking Fox's breath away for a second. Brantley didn't wait but immediately began moving, his body slapping against Fox's as he fucked him hard.
The room filled with sounds of their fucking. Wet, slick sounds. Balls slapping against flesh. Grunts. Sighs.
Fox closed his eyes against the overload of sensations, relaxing his body against Brantley's onslaught. It was dirty and a little painful and rough and absolutely perfect. No one had ever taken him like this, in what was meant as a punishment but felt like a treat.
His cock was hard, demanding to be touched, but Fox didn't even care. This wasn't about the physical release for him. Hell, he'd come just hours ago. No, this was about an emotional need to connect with Brantley. This was the first attempt to defuse that crazy energy between them. And maybe, if he were honest, it was also about letting Brantley take out his frustrations on Fox's ass. Maybe in doing that, they could move on to a healthier place for both of them.
It was over way too soon, Brantley speeding up even more, rabbitting in and out of him before freezing up. Fox felt his cock jerk inside him as he came, his ass flooding with Brantley’s warmth. He stood still as Brantley dropped his head on Fox's shoulder, breathing fast.
It took maybe a minute before Brantley let go of Fox's hands so he could lower his arms, shaking them a little to get the blood flowing again.
"You good?" Brantley asked, still buried deep inside Fox.
"Yeah. You?"
The laugh Brantley let out sounded anything but happy. "Let's just say that our first experiment of me trying to fuck you out of my system is unsuccessful."
He did a slow move inside Fox, creating a sloppy sound that should be disgusting but sounded perfectly filthy to Fox. Of course, Fox couldn't help but notice the man was still hard.
"I thought if I gave in just once, it might help, but if possible, I want you even more after this. What the fuck have you done to me?"
Hours later, Fox still felt Brantley's lingering presence. It wasn't just in his ass, though he certainly could feel the consequences of their storage room encounter, reminding him that at his age, a little more comfort was a smart idea. His muscles stung a little as well, especially the ones in his shoulders—the result of Brantley pinning him against the door.
But all of that was nothing compared to how much space the man occupied in Fox's head. Any illusion that getting rid of that sexual tension, as he had called it to himself, would be the solution had vaporized. If anything, it had only made things worse.
Brantley had not said another word after that last question that had sounded more like an accusation. He'd pulled out, had gotten dressed again, and before Fox could say anything, had walked out of the room. It had taken Fox a bit more time to compose himself, cursing the fact that he didn't have anything to clean himself up with.
The term walk of shame had gotten a new definition for him as he made his way back to his suite, Brantley's cum dripping out of him. The funny thing was that once he'd gotten to the privacy of his bedroom, he had hesitated in cleaning up. Would it ever happening again? If not, he wanted to remember that last encounter as long as possible.
Minutes later, he'd convinced himself of the impracticality of that plan, as he could hardly walk back onto the bridge with his hole still leaking cum. The chances of someone spotting it were minimal, but the fact that he would be self-consciously aware of it the whole time was a distraction that could be dangerous. He needed to have full concentration as he navigated them back to Miami.
He caught a few hours of sleep that night, leaving Brody in charge of the ship, then woke up in time to take command for the last few hours and bring the boat safely back into Miami Port. It had been one of the smoothest trips ever with not a single thing going wrong, and yet Fox was more tired than after trips where he'd encountered heavy weather or similar potentially disastrous situations.
Still, he sucked it up as he always did, making sure to be visible as guests started disembarking. It had been a fun cruise, he thought, and guests were telling him the same as they thanked him for a wonderful week. Carol had reported last night had been a success, with many men partying until the early hours of the morning. They had been generous tippers, so the crew was happy as well despite it not being a fully booked ship.
He caught a glimpse of Brantley who was saying goodbye to guests, and Fox's heart got all soft and mushy as he watched Brantley hug Raf and Brendan. Those two were so special. He'd never seen a couple as obviously in love as the two of them. Well, his parents loved each other very much, but they'd never been the demonstrative type, so it showed differently. With Brendan and Raf, it was visible in every touch, every look, the way they were constantly aware of each other.
What would it feel like, to be that much in love? To have someone look at you as if you hung the moon and stars? Fox's previous relationships had been pleasant before they'd gone wrong, but they'd never been like that.
"Thanks so much, Captain. This was the most fun cruise I've ever been on," a man said, diverting Fox's attention from Brantley.
He shook his hand. "My pleasure. I'm glad to hear you had a wonderful week."
"I did, but I'm also happy to go home again. I missed my dog, and there's no place like home, you know?"
He wasn't the only one to echo that sentiment, and as Fox walked back to the bridge he pondered it. Home. It was somewhat of a foreign concept to him, but then again, it always had been. Growing up, his parents’ ship had been home. No matter where they were—traveling or loading or unloading in some harbor—that's where home was.
But after he'd left for nautical school, he'd lost that sense of home. Oh, he'd had his own place ever since, whether it be a rented room or an apartment, but it had never felt like home. Whatever ship he was serving on had become his home. He'd started on a fishing trawler to get some experience in while still getting his degree, and after that, he'd served on one ship after another. And all of them had been his home, or at least, that's what he told himself.
It wasn't the same place of home that others seemed to refer to, however. He had an apartment in Miami, but he didn't consider that home. It was a place to stay, to sleep when he was onshore, but he had zero emotional connection to it. It was comfortable, and it had everything he needed, but the idea of going there didn't give him the warm and fuzzies.
Maybe that was because it was empty. He had no pets, not even plants, since neither could survive ten weeks in a row without him. He paid a guy to collect his mail and check in once a week, run the faucets to prevent bacteria from growing there, but that was it. Nothing or no one waited for him to return, and for the first time in his life, he wished he had someone to come home to.
It stung, the realization that he might be missing out on something big, something that had the potential of making him happier than anything else. Was it worth it? Had he made the right choice to prioritize his career over a relationship, a possible family? That question was impossible to answer without knowing what the relationship would've been like. All he knew was this, life on board. A home on the water. It had to be enough.
The rest of the day was spent debriefing the last trip, filling out the paperwork, and starting preparations for their next cruise. It was a short trip this time, just four days. He disliked those, preferring trips where he got to sail at least a full day at sea, but of course he would suck it up. He always did.
He saw Brantley in passing a few times but prevented himself from talking to him, though they did exchange glances. Fox could have been mistaken, but he saw his own confusion reflected on Brantley's face.
It wasn't till dinner that night that they met for real, as the senior officers shared a meal in the Italian restaurant rather than in the cruise mess. By pure coincidence, Brantley ended up on Fox's right side, and he had to resist the urge to breathe him in deeply.
"How was your first week on board?" he asked him, determined to pretend everything was fine, at least in public.
"It went very well, Captain. She's a great ship, and the crew has been amazing to work with."
"With a few minor exceptions," Fox said, thinking of the guy he'd had to fire earlier that week as well as Lucian, who he had to make a decision about as well.
"Those were nothing but blips on my radar," Brantley said. "Overall, it was an experience I won't forget."
This was said with a look at Fox, who realized that Brantley was communicating more below the surface of his words. "So I take it you're on board for a repeat performance?"
Bradley's smile was genuine. "Very much so, Captain. In fact, I can't wait."
No one seemed to pick up on the undertones of their conversation, since all around them, the others engaged in talks of their own. Under the table, Fox moved his right leg a little to the side. It only took a few seconds before he felt it, his hairs rising on end as Brantley's leg bumped against his before settling firmly pressed against his own.
They spent the rest of the meal keeping up appearances, engaging in conversation with others and even with each other, never saying anything remotely personal, while under the table, their legs were fully connected. Fox's heart beat fast, like a teenager who had dared to reach out for his boyfriend's hand during a movie. It was exhilarating and scary at the same time, and he never wanted it to end.
When they were done eating and got up to clear the tables—Fox always insisted on making it as easy as possible for the crew when there were no passengers on board—Brantley stepped close to him for a second.
"Can we meet later?"
Fox thought quickly. "Meet me at eleven oh five in my suite. I'll leave the door open."
They didn't say anything else, but Brantley nodded. Fox forced himself to focus for the rest of the evening, running through the risk analysis with his team, checking in with the Coast Guard for their inspection, and discussing a persistent engine issue with his chief engineer, Andy.
It was eleven o'clock before he knew it, and he made sure to be in his suite on time. How crazy was it that his hands were clammy as he waited for Brantley? Why were there always these nerves when he knew he'd see him? When would that ever stop?
Brantley slipped into the room at exactly the agreed time. "Do you want me to close the door?" he asked.
Fox smiled, his nerves suddenly vanished. Had he been afraid Brantley wouldn't show? He wasn't sure, but it didn't matter anymore. "Unless you want everyone on the bridge to hear what we’re about to do, I would recommend so, yes."
Brantley visibly shivered. "So what are we going to do that's going to make so much noise?" he asked, but there was just a little tremor in his voice that belied his feigned nonchalance.
Fox rose from the chair he'd been sitting on and walked over to Brantley until he was only inches apart from him. "You're nervous."
"Yeah."
Fox raised his hand, then brushed Brantley's cheek with his fingertips. "Why?"
"Do you even need to ask? Take your pick. How about I just stepped into the captain's room and anyone could find out I'm here? That's enough reason to be nervous as fuck. There's also the fact that I'm pretty sure what we're about to do, which is always reason to get a little anxious, even if it's more out of excitement."
It all made sense, and yet Fox knew that was not why Brantley was nervous, because it wasn't why he was feeling nerves course through him. He leaned in, bringing their mouths so close together he could feel the heat of Brantley's lips. "I don't think that's why you're nervous."
Up close, Brantley's eyes were as beautiful as the Caribbean, but equally dangerous. He could get lost in them, those swirling oceans of blue that showed so much more than his face.
"No? What do you think is the reason, then?"
"Because we're both betting our careers that we can get rid of whatever it is between us by acting on it, since staying away from each other is impossible and being mere friends didn't work either. If this doesn't work, there's no other option left for us. And that makes you nervous..."
"How do you know?"
"Because I'm anxious too."
14
Brantley couldn’t take it anymore. To be this close to Fox and not taste him, not feel him, it was sheer torture. So he inched his mouth forward and kissed him. This would be nothing like the angry, frantic sex in the storage room. He didn’t have that energy anymore, that desperation that had fueled that encounter. No, he’d made peace with the fact that he was in love with Fox. All he could do now was embrace it and hold on for what would be a bumpy ride.
He traced the outline of his lips with the tip of his tongue, watched with satisfaction as Fox’s eyes grew darker and heavier. Fox opened for him, but he wasn’t in any hurry, lazily licking his lips, nibbling on his bottom lip until finally slipping inside. He didn’t touch him anywhere else except his mouth, their bodies only an inch away but unconnected. It made the kiss so much more intimate, since it was all he could focus on.
And so he did, pouring his feelings into every swipe of his tongue, every lick into Fox’s mouth, every touch of their lips. “Brantley…” Fox whispered into his mouth. “Baby, I…”
Brantley kissed him so he’d stop talking. They were done talking. There was nothing to say, nothing he hadn’t heard before. It would only make things harder. Less talking and more kissing, that sounded like a perfect plan to Brantley.
Fox tasted of the sea, salty and fresh. Brantley wanted to dive in and never come up for air. And the sound he made as Brantley deepened the kiss, this naked, raw whine of need, of helplessness. He’d never heard that sound before, never felt Fox tremble the way he did now, even with their bodies still apart.
“What do you need, baby?” Brantley asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
“You. I need you.”
It was a stunning admission from Fox, and it made Brantley’s head spin and his heart dance. “You have me, at least for tonight.”
“I want to forget,” Fox whispered. “I want to forget the outside world exists. I want it to be you and me, the way we were when we first met.”
Brantley kissed him again because he had to when he saw the depth of Fox’s need on his face, in his eyes. “I want that too.”
“Shower with me?”
It wasn’t the same as in the hotel suite, if only because Fox’s shower on board was cramped with two men in it, but they made it work. In between long, gentle kissing, they washed each other, soft hands soaping, stroking over flat planes of muscle, smooth skin, and round globes. They didn’t speak a word, their bodies doing the talking for them.
When they stepped back into the room, they were still wet—the shower too small to dry off. Fox used his towel to dry Brantley’s hair, combing it with his fingers when he was done, then smiling at the result. Brantley stood still as he moved the towel lower, patting his chest dry, then his stomach. His belly swirled when Fox kneeled to dry his legs, his feet. It was intimate. A lover’s touch.
Brantley could’ve pointed out that he could’ve done it much faster himself, but that wasn’t the point. And so he did the same to Fox, smiling when he discovered the man was ticklish, especially under his feet. He hung up the towels, and then they stood across from each other, both naked, still a little damp.
Fox reached for him, cupping his cheek. “Zo verdomd mooi. So damn beautiful.”
“I could say the same of you.”
“You have your whole life ahead of you, baby. What are you doing with a middle-aged man like me?”
Brantley circled Fox’s wrist, pushing his hand harder against his cheek. “I happen to like this middle-aged man.”
Fox’s eyes softened. “You do?”
Brantley smiled before turning his head and kissing the fingers that had held his cheek. “I do. Very much, in fact.”
