Chapter 13

 

 

 

 

Sam held the paintbrush poised in front of the fine, shiny watercolor paper clipped to his easel. He dipped his brush in water and then daubed at the black cake of paint until he had just the right amount on the tip.

His hand began to move almost of its own accord. First the cheekbone and then the firm line of the jaw with the cleft chin that made Sam’s heart twist with tenderness. He quickly added the dark hair falling over soulful eyes. Then the slightly crooked nose and those lips with the small lift at the edges that signaled an impending smile. Sam dipped the brush in water again and then into the blue paint. He daubed the brush into the pale green, mixing the colors until he was satisfied he had the exact blue of Donovan’s eyes.

These few days apart had been difficult, but also good. He’d kept himself very busy, getting some new furniture into the loft. The futon had arrived and doubled as a bed. He’d found a really cool Depression-era wardrobe at an estate sale that was in perfect condition. The old cast iron radiators set against the walls chugged and steamed, but provided plenty of heat. He’d already brought most of his clothes from his old apartment and planned to sleep there on the new futon that night. The lease on the old place was up at the end of the month, and he’d been steadily packing and boxing what he needed, glad for the distraction to keep him from doing something stupid like showing up at Donovan’s place and throwing his arms around him.

These few days apart from Donovan hadn’t changed anything. He knew with absolute certainty he was in love with the guy. What had happened between them had not been merely the desperate infatuation of lonely men staving off the fear of death with sexual distraction.

He believed Donovan loved him back, but was maybe too scared or confused to admit it. He had forced himself to accept that Donovan had to come back to him on his own terms or not at all. In his heart of heart, he had faith in Donovan, but recognized it might take him some time. As hard as it had been to wait, Sam had let him be.

He took the watercolor of Donovan’s face to the clothesline he’d strung near a window and hung it to dry beside the other sketches in the series. These pieces weren’t anything he planned to show or sell, but just something he needed to do.

Returning to his easel, he selected a large drawing pad from the nearby counter of supplies. In his mind’s eyes, he saw Donovan lying nude on the black rock by the waterfall, letting the sun dry him after a swim. Using a stick of charcoal, he quickly caught the masculine curve of Donovan’s thigh, his long, lean torso and then the broad lines of his shoulders. As he worked to bring the image to life on the paper, he lost himself in the process.

He was startled by the chime of his cell phone. His heart went from zero to sixty when he saw Donovan’s name flash on the screen. His fingers actually trembled with excitement as he clicked on the text message and read that one hopeful word.

“Hi.”

He was longing to hear Donovan’s voice, but since Donovan had chosen to text, Sam stayed with that, just glad he had reached out at last. They texted back and forth about where and when to get together, agreeing to meet at a deli on Sam’s side of the Brooklyn Bridge as soon as Donovan could get there.

Buoyed with excitement, he cleaned his brushes and tidied his work area. Stripping off the paint spattered T-shirt and ripped jeans he wore to work in, he hurried to the small bathroom and took a quick shower. He dressed again in fresh clothing, giddy with anticipation. Reflexively, he reached for his good luck ring, which he liked to twist to calm his nerves, but his finger was bare.

He opened his Uber app on his phone and typed in the address of the deli. Within thirty seconds, someone pinged back to say they were on their way. He couldn’t stop smiling and his entire body thrummed with joy at the thought of seeing Donovan again. He forced himself to acknowledge that Donovan might only be meeting to say it was all over, but he couldn’t make himself believe that. He looked back at their messages, scrolling through their brief exchange.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

That didn’t sound like someone who was going to end it all.

Grabbing his jacket, Sam left the loft. He raced down the three flights of stairs and out into the sunshine, his heart singing.

~*~

“Something’s come up, Molly. I have to leave the office for a while. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

Molly, the secretary Donovan shared with two other associates, looked up from her keyboard, a scandalized expression on her face. “But you’ve got lunch in twenty minutes with Mr. Walker and Mr. Klett in the executive dining room.”

It was an honor to be tapped for lunch with Mr. Walker or Mr. Holmes. The founding partners of the firm were rarely seen by worker bees like Donovan. Donovan had only been to the top floor once, and that had been during his interview process. Now he’d been invited to take the private elevator up to those hallowed halls.

Before the shipwreck, Donovan would have been crowing to his jealous colleagues about the impending luncheon, even though he knew it had only been arranged because of his notoriety for having been lost at sea. But the partners would have to enjoy their fancy midday meal without him. He had somewhere more important to be.

“Can’t be helped,” he said to Molly with an apologetic smile. “Please give them my regrets.” Without waiting for her reply, he headed toward the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator.

He wove through the midday crush of Manhattan traffic, making his way to the Brooklyn Bridge. His cell phone buzzed and a glance at it showed the message was from Molly. Donovan had probably just committed career suicide by walking out on a luncheon with a senior partner, but he found that he simply didn’t care.

As he drove, his mind was filled with memories of their time together on the island. He’d been such a dick to Sam after the rescue, but he’d been paralyzed with confusion and fear. He could still see the pleading, hopeful expression on Sam’s handsome face as he’d impulsively removed his good luck ring and given it to Donovan. He glanced down at it now and smiled. In just a few minutes he would see Sam again.

The deli was a block past the bridge exit. He found a parking spot only a few doors down and eased into the space, his heart beating fast. He climbed out of the car. The air was chilly, a wind coming off the river, and he pulled his suit jacket close as he strode down the wide sidewalk toward the deli.

His heart flipped in his chest when he saw Sam standing near the door. His blond hair shone in the midday sun. He was wearing an old, brown bomber jacket over a red T-shirt, his hands shoved in his jeans pockets.

Donovan picked up his pace, his face breaking into a broad grin as he closed the gap between them. Sam looked up as he approached, his mouth lifting into an answering smile as Donovan hurried toward him. Sam opened his arms and Donovan fell into them, muscles that had been rigid with tension for the past several days suddenly easing in Sam’s warm, firm embrace.

They held each other for a long moment before finally separating. “You clean up pretty good,” Sam said, looking Donovan up and down with a grin. “You’re already back at work?”

Donovan glanced down at his tailored suit. He reached for his tie, loosening the knot. He pulled it from around his neck and stuffed it into his suit jacket. It felt good to open the first two buttons of his starched shirt. “In a manner of speaking. Today was my first day back and I lasted all of five hours. I was given a hero’s welcome on my return, but instead of being happy, I just felt numb.” He ran his hand through his hair. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing there. It’s like everything I thought I valued has changed. I feel like a stranger there. I couldn’t wait to get out.”

“Well,” Sam said, pulling open the door of the deli and gesturing Donovan inside. “Let’s get something to eat and you can tell me all about it.”

Over Rueben sandwiches and root beers, Donovan poured his heart out about his newfound ambivalence toward his career and his life choices. There was none of the awkwardness he had feared upon seeing Sam again. It was as if they’d never been apart. He was back with his best friend and for the first time since they’d been rescued, he finally felt like himself.

“Sounds like you’re dealing with some big issues,” Sam said when Donovan had talked himself out. “You’ve basically had zero down time since the rescue. Maybe it’s too soon to go back to work. Maybe you need some time off to figure out what you want to do with your life.”

“My dad would kill me,” Donovan replied, some of his former tension reentering his body and making his shoulders hunch. “My boss probably wouldn’t be far behind him, especially after the stunt I pulled today. He kept my position open, despite some pressure from above to hire someone to take my place. I’m supposed to leap back into the saddle and start producing those billable hours pronto. Instead, I spent the morning accomplishing nothing, and then walked out.”

Sam shrugged. “They managed without you for over a month. I’m guessing they could get along a little longer while you take some time to decide what you want. We’ve been through some life changing events, you and I. When you’re faced with just surviving from one day to the next, things like how quick you show up back at an office become a lot less important in the scheme of things. You and me—we’ve got a unique chance for a do-over. We get to really assess what we want with the kind of clarity most people never get a chance to experience.” He placed his hand lightly over Donovan’s, and a thrill of pleasure and desire hurtled through Donovan’s body at the touch. “You’ve had a lot to process. The cool thing is, you have choices. It’s up to you.”

Was it really that simple? He just had to decide? The thought of living life on his own terms, without having to bend and contort to make himself fit, made Donovan dizzy.

“My good luck ring,” Sam said softly, reaching out again, this time to trace the band of gold around Donovan’s finger. “It looks like it was made for you.” He looked up with a smile, tears in his eyes.

Warmth spread through Donovan, melting away the last of his reserve. “I need to kiss you, Sam,” he whispered before knowing he was going to speak.

His heart pounded as Sam leaned over the small table and touched his lips lightly to Donovan’s. But then Sam pulled back, his eyes twinkling. “I need to do a lot more than that to you. Let’s go back to my loft before I get us arrested for lewd public display.”

Donovan laughed. Any lingering thought he might have had of returning to the office slipped from his mind as they got to their feet and left the deli, arm in arm.

~*~

“Wow, this is really great,” Donovan said as he looked around the loft. “You’ve been busy. You’re living here now, too?”

“I’m still moving in but yeah, that’s the plan.”

“Hey, what are these?” Donovan walked over to a window where Sam had hung the recent series of watercolors and drawings.

Sam followed him, his heart constricting a little. What would Donovan think? “Nothing really. I was just messing around.”

Donovan looked at the pictures, moving slowly from one to the other. “They’re really good,” he said quietly.

Sam flushed with pleasure as he came to stand beside Donovan. “They’re just ideas—sketches. I’m going to do an island series for my next show.” He put his hand on Donovan’s shoulder, his heart fluttering, his cock hard in his jeans. “With your permission, I’d like to paint you as part of the series.”

“I think I’d like that,” Donovan replied.

They leaned toward one another. Their lips met and parted as they wrapped their arms around each other. When they finally separated, Donovan, his eyes blazing with emotion, reached out to stroke Sam’s cheek. His touch was at once erotically charged and achingly tender, and Sam’s heart filled with love and desire.

Without speaking, they began to take off their things. As they stripped, they moved toward the futon couch. Sam released the lever that allowed the mattress to fully open, and they fell together onto the soft quilt that covered it. Naked, they pressed close together, kissing as they reached for each other’s cocks.

Donovan’s shaft was hard beneath the silky-smooth skin. Sam started to shift down, eager to take it into his mouth, but Donovan stopped him. “No,” he said. “I want to do it. I want to give you pleasure.” He moved down, twisting his body until his mouth was flush with Sam’s throbbing cock. With none of the hesitation or trepidation he’d exhibited on the island, he took Sam’s cock deep into his throat, his hand coming up to cradle Sam’s balls.

Sam groaned with pleasure as Donovan sucked his cock. It was so, so good and he was so fiercely aroused that he ejaculated within a minute or two. Donovan stayed with him, swallowing his seed before pulling back with a satisfied smile.

“God, I’m sorry,” Sam said with a startled laugh. “That just totally snuck up on me.”

“It’s okay,” Donovan said, still grinning as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “We’re just getting started.”

Still aroused despite the sudden climax, Sam reached eagerly for Donovan’s shaft and this time Donovan didn’t protest. Sam kissed and stroked it, teasing along the pulsing vein as he inhaled Donovan’s delicious musky scent. He could feel Donovan getting closer to climax, but, to Sam’s surprise, Donovan gently but firmly pushed Sam away.

Sam glanced up at Donovan’s face, confused. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“No, no. Not at all. It’s just… I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” Donovan said. “I want to try more. I want…” he paused and then, the beginnings of a blush moving over his cheeks, continued, “to make love to you.” Nervousness radiated from him like a forcefield, but so did desire.

“Everything we’re doing is making love,” Sam said with a small smile, though his heart was leaping. “But I know what you’re saying. I would love that, Donovan.”

He reached beneath the futon, searching for the shoe box that contained the contents from his nightstand back at his old apartment. He pulled the box up onto the bed and opened the lid. He removed the tube of lubricant and a condom. “Lie back and relax while I put this on you,” he instructed, sensing that Donovan wanted him to take the lead.

Donovan did as he asked, lying on his back as Sam opened the condom packet and slid the sheath over his lover’s erect shaft. He looked so hot and sexy, but also a little nervous.

“Have you ever done this before?” Sam asked, placing a hand on Donovan’s thigh. “I mean, with a woman?”

“I tried once with a girl in college who said she wanted it, but it didn’t go too well. She said I was hurting her and she made me stop.”

“She was probably nervous and tensed up, and you probably were, too.” Sam squirted some of the lube onto his fingers and smeared it over the head of the condom. How many hundreds of times had he fantasized about just this moment? Was it really happening, or was he in the middle of a very vivid dream?

He put a little more KY on his fingers and then got onto his hands and knees. Reaching back, he lubricated his asshole, his cock already rising again in anticipation. “Just kneel up behind me and position yourself,” he said. “I want you so much, Donovan. I want this so much.”

Donovan scrambled to his knees behind Sam and placed his hands on Sam’s hips. Sam felt the head of Donovan’s cock pressing between his ass cheeks. He scooted back encouragingly, desperate for the penetration he had longed for.

“What if I do it wrong?” Donovan said, his voice close to Sam’s ear as he leaned over him.

“There is no wrong. Just relax and take it slow,” Sam encouraged. “Please. I want it, Donovan. I want you.”

“I want it, too,” Donovan whispered. Again he pressed the head of his cock against Sam’s sphincter.

Sam moaned with pleasure as it pressed past the tight ring of muscle and slipped into the passage.

“You okay?” Donovan said anxiously.

“Better than okay. The man I love is making love to me,” Sam said, taking the risk of speaking his heart. “Does it feel good to you?”

“It feels fantastic,” Donovan breathed. “So tight and hot.” He eased carefully forward, burying himself inside Sam.

Sam pushed gently back, encouraging him with a swivel of his hips. They began to move in tandem. It felt wonderful, and Sam reached with one hand for his own shaft, which was now fully erect and throbbing with need. He stroked himself as Donovan moved inside him, tentative at first, and then with more confidence.

“Yes,” Sam hissed. “It’s so good, Donovan. So, so good.”

Donovan began to move faster, grunting as he thrust inside Sam. Pleasure rippled and radiated throughout Sam’s being, and he moaned, his cock fisted in his hand, his heart thudding.

“Christ, it feels so fucking good,” Donovan gasped. “I’m going to come. Oh god, I’m going to come.”

“Yes. Come for me, baby,” Sam crooned. His balls tightened as Donovan bucked and thrust behind him, his cock hard and hot in his grip.

Suddenly Donovan’s hand was over his, reaching for Sam’s shaft. Sam’s hand fell away as Donovan took over, pumping and stroking him as he thrust deep inside. Their bodies were slicked with sweat, their breathing ragged as they came together in a series of jolting spasms and gasping cries.

They fell forward onto the mattress, Donovan on top of Sam, his cock still buried inside him. They lay where they’d fallen, hearts beating in rhythm, one indistinguishable from the other.

They remained still for several minutes. Sam eventually lifted his head, carefully pushing Donovan from him by lifting his body and turning so that Donovan fell back onto his side. Donovan’s eyes were closed, a smile on his lips. Sam rolled Donovan gently onto his back. Reaching for the used condom, he stripped it from Donovan’s cock and got to his feet. He walked to the bathroom, where he disposed of the condom in the small wastebasket. Turning on the faucet, he cleaned himself quickly and returned with a fresh cloth. He wiped Donovan’s cock and climbed in beside his lover. The quilt had fallen to the floor. He reached for it and pulled it up over them both.

Donovan’s breathing had slowed and deepened. Sam curled into him, a deep sense of peace and happiness moving through him. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” Donovan whispered back.