Chapter 6

 

 

 

 

The two men were stretched out on the raft, legs thrust out, their hands behind their heads. A cool breeze ruffled the brush, welcome after the heat of the day. Sam felt a splash of water on his face and then another. For the first time since they’d washed up on this shore, it was raining.

After that initial warning, the skies opened before they could get to shelter. The makeshift lean-to tarp under which they’d been sleeping offered little protection as wind whipped the rain in a frenzy. They scrambled to the pop-up tent, huddling inside it as the rain pounded around them. It would have been almost cozy, if they hadn’t been soaked to the skin.

After about twenty minutes, the rain stopped as suddenly as it had started. The setting sun made the wet foliage around them steam and sparkle. Slowly the two men emerged from the tent.

“We have to get dry,” Donovan said as he stripped off his T-shirt. The blankets they kept beneath the tarp were soaked. Sam pulled them out, taking them through the brush to some flat rocks farther inland. When he returned, he saw Donovan had taken off his jeans and hung his clothing over the edge of the tarp, weighing them down with rocks so they could dry in the evening breeze. His wet underwear clung to his cock and balls. Sam couldn’t help but stare.

As Donovan saw him looking, he flushed but didn’t try to cover himself. Instead he said softly, “Aren’t you going to hang your things?”

Sam stripped off his shirt and slid out of his pants. Donovan took his wet things for him and hung them next to his own. They stood staring at one another. Sam could feel his heart thudding in his chest. He could feel his cock straining in his underwear, the tip pressing up against his belly.

He turned away to hide his erection, wondering what game Donovan was playing.

This wasn’t the first time Donovan had given a sign, however small, that he might be interested. So far, Sam had managed to ignore them, telling himself neither of them could afford the complication. But this felt different somehow.

Donovan moved closer, reaching out to touch Sam’s shoulder. “Please,” he said, his voice cracking a little. “Please don’t turn away.”

Sam allowed Donovan to turn him around. He stood frozen, his heart catching in his throat as Donovan smiled, his expression a mixture of desire and hesitation. Sam felt as if he were falling into one of his daydreams as Donovan bent to kiss him, his full lips warm as they made contact with Sam’s.

Unable to help himself, Sam kissed him back with no idea of what would happen next.

~*~

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. What am I doing? What am I doing?

Was this really happening?

He had been aching to do it for days—even longer, if he were honest with himself. But since that one time at the waterfall, Sam had been cool, self-contained and unreceptive to Donovan’s occasional bumbling efforts to get closer.

With women, he’d been mostly passive, letting them make the first move and the last one as well—when they invariably broke up with him. When he took the time to ponder it, Donovan used to wonder if he was missing some essential gene, something that enabled one to care deeply for another person. Though he liked to think he was different from his cold, emotionally withdrawn father, he had always secretly harbored a fear that he was more like him than he dared to admit.

These past two weeks on this deserted island with the handsome stranger who had saved his life had turned his world upside down. Together, they’d been forced to forge a life, to find food and make shelter, each moment a small miracle as they made it through another day. While it was scary to think they might be stuck there for the unforeseeable future, it was gratifying to know they’d managed to sustain themselves. And they’d done it together, every step of the way.

Had he been observing himself from outside the situation, the Donovan of two weeks before would have said his attraction to Sam was only a result of his fear and loneliness. With an attorney’s logical mind, he would have told himself any person would be drawn to the only person left in his world. He would have assured himself that his attraction to Sam didn’t mean he was gay or even curious. It didn’t mean anything at all.

But these past days with no distractions—no job, no internet, no TV—he’d had endless hours to contemplate his life, his fate, his future, his desires, his dreams. The defenses he’d built up over a lifetime were crumbling.

From the moment Sam had pulled him from the sea, he’d respected and admired the quietly self-assured Sam, but now he could no longer deny there was more there.

He wanted Sam.

He wanted to know what really went on in Sam’s head and heart. He longed to know if he had a place there. He craved the physical touch, but not just in the abstract. He craved it with Sam.

Donovan was trembling as he dared to take Sam in his arms. As their chapped lips met, they pressed their bodies against one another, their bare chests touching. Sam’s beard was surprisingly soft against Donovan’s skin. Donovan closed his eyes, barely able to believe he was kissing a man. His cock was rock hard, his balls tight with lust.

Sam was the first to pull away. Unable to stop himself, Donovan instinctively moved forward, his mouth still eager for Sam’s kiss. He opened his eyes as he reached for Sam.

To Donovan’s surprise, Sam’s eyes were bright with tears, his expression full of pain. “Don’t do this, Donovan,” he said in a tight, breathless voice. “Whatever you’re doing, stop it.”

Donovan took a step back, Sam’s words like a slap. Flames of embarrassment licked his face. Oh god. He’d fucked up. He’d totally fucked this up. His miscalculation hit him in the gut like a fist. Sam no longer wanted him. “I’m sorry,” he gasped, his lungs refusing to inflate. “I thought you wanted it, too. I—”

“Stop it,” Sam interrupted, his face as red as Donovan’s felt. “You know that’s not it!” His voice was sharp with pain. “Of course I want it! I’ve wanted nothing but since I first saw you on the ship, way back in that other life.” He rubbed his face with his hands and then looked at Donovan beseechingly. “Don’t you see, Donovan? If we start this, I can’t go back. If you break down the fragile defense I’ve managed to maintain, I don’t think I can build it up again. Once you’re done experimenting or whatever the hell it is you’re doing, I’m not going to be able to just turn it off. I’m not wired like that. For me it’s all or nothing. Do you understand? I can’t do this.”

Donovan was confused. “But…” he said, trailing off as he tried to find the right words.

“There’s too much at stake between us,” Sam said, wrapping his arms around his torso. “We have to live together—just us. If things get weird between us, there’s nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide.”

“But I don’t want to hide,” Donovan cried, stung. “I have to find out if what I feel is real. I know you feel it too.” Donovan glanced at Sam’s underwear. His erection was plainly visible despite his protestations.

“Of course I feel it,” Sam cried. “Damn it, that’s the point. For you this is a game—an experiment. But for me it’s real, all too real. If you kiss me again, I’m not going to be able to stop. I’m going to take you all the way, Donovan. I only play for keeps.”

Donovan stared at Sam as he digested the import of what he was saying. They were the only people in the world at that moment. His decision would shape the course of their lives—at least until they were rescued. If they were rescued.

He touched his lips, the heat of Sam’s mouth still imprinted there. He wanted another kiss. He wanted more than that. For the first time in his life, Donovan ached for the experience held just out of his reach.

Moving toward Sam, he whispered, “Kiss me.”

~*~

With those two words, Sam was lost. His barely contained reserve fell away. God, he wanted Donovan. Possibly more than he’d ever wanted anyone in his life. How he longed to take advantage of what he feared was only loneliness and misplaced lust.

He stared into Donovan’s eyes, taking his measure one last time before he abandoned himself to his desires. Donovan’s expression was hungry, his lips parted, his azure eyes flickering with anticipation as he held Sam’s gaze.

Even as Sam moved closer, even as he took Donovan’s face in his hands and pulled him down to claim his mouth yet again, Sam feared he would regret this. But as their lips touched, his stark need overwhelmed him. Unable to contain himself another second, he moaned against Donovan’s mouth, his fingers gliding up into Donovan’s silky, dark hair as he held him fast.

The kiss was not gentle. It was not a tentative exploration or the delicate touch of new lovers. The tide of lust held back so long burst forth as tongue met tongue, winding and curving together in wet heat as they pressed close together, their cocks hard against each other’s bodies, barely contained by the damp underwear each man still wore.

Heat washed through Sam as they kissed. He couldn’t hold back, exploring Donovan’s mouth, nibbling the full lower lip, gliding his tongue along strong, white teeth, his fingers twisting in Donovan’s thick hair, his cock grinding against his belly.

Slow down, slow down… he tried to tell himself, aware he was moving too fast, knowing he was going to scare the man away before they’d even begun. Forcing himself to back off, he pulled away, steeling himself for Donovan’s possible rejection, even now.

Donovan was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling, his eyes bright in the darkening purple of twilight. “What happens now?” he asked softly.

~*~

Donovan’s legs turned to jelly as he stood before Sam, trembling. Sam lowered himself to his knees. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of Donovan’s ragged underwear and tugged it down, finally pulling it free from his body. He gripped Donovan’s bobbing shaft in one hand, the other gently cupping Donovan’s aching balls.

Donovan could barely catch his breath. He was part terrified, part desperate for Sam’s touch. He closed his eyes as Sam stroked his cock.

Was this really happening? Was he going to permit a man to perform this intimate act?

Sam’s fingers moved along Donovan’s cock, sending ripples of pleasure through his entire body. When Sam’s lips closed over the head, Donovan moaned, the shock and pleasure nearly knocking him off his feet. The feeling was electric, more intense than anything he had ever experienced with a woman. He reached for Sam’s shoulders, holding on to keep from flying off the edge of the world.

Sam lowered his mouth, taking Donovan’s cock into his throat. The sensation was indescribable. At the same time, Sam massaged Donovan’s balls with delicate pressure, enhancing the velvet-hot kiss of his tongue and lips. Donovan could feel the head of his cock nestled at the back of Sam’s hot, yielding throat. It felt like heaven.

Sam moved back slowly, maintaining the friction with his lips, massaging Donovan’s cock with his tongue, lightly grazing the taut skin with his teeth. Just when Donovan was about to lose it, Sam released his cock, replacing his lips with his hand. He massaged the glistening shaft with a masterful stroke, moving his hand up and down with unbearably pleasurable friction, his other hand still cupping Donovan’s balls.

Donovan’s climax began to mount, rising in him like a towering wave. He knew he was about to come. Apparently, Sam knew it too, because he lowered his head again, sucking and licking almost ferociously, the rhythm driving Donovan nearly mad with lust.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god…” Donovan couldn’t say anything else and soon he couldn’t even say that. Language was obliterated, thoughts smashed, fears and trepidation dissolved under the fierce, powerful onslaught of his orgasm. His body spasmed as he arched uncontrollably, thrusting his cock deep into Sam’s throat. Sam held him fast around the hips, taking every drop, gently milking his shaft until Donovan was utterly spent.

With a deep sigh of absolute surrender, Donovan leaned heavily against Sam as he struggled to recover. A sound in the distance made his eyes fly open. It took him a moment to focus in the darkness of the evening. Sam heard it too. Eyes wide, he leaped to his feet as they both whirled toward the sound.

“A plane! Christ, Donovan! A plane!”

~*~

Driven by desperation and excitement, they stumbled toward the firepit, Donovan pulling up his underwear as they ran. Though the fire was banked, they hadn’t yet placed fresh wood and kindling on it for the night. The blackened wood already in the pit was wet from the earlier rain.

“Get dry wood. Let’s build up a big blaze so they see us,” Sam shouted as he hurried to retrieve the box of matches.

Donovan raced toward the stash of wood they kept beneath a coconut tree. Kicking aside the wet top pieces, he grabbed a handful and ran back to the pit, dropping the sticks onto the pile.

With trembling fingers, Sam pushed open the box and struck a match along its side. The first match broke against the box, making him curse himself. Calm down, he ordered himself, but it wasn’t easy.

The second match took, and Sam dropped it onto the twigs and dry branches Donovan had added to the pit. A small flame blazed up as they waved their hands over it to feed the fire more oxygen.

The plane was nearly overhead. Without taking the time to discuss their next move, both men ran closer to the shore, wildly waving their arms as they screamed out, “We’re here! Over here! Help! Help!” Desperately they danced over the sand in their underwear, crying out with all their might.

Sam glanced back at the fire, furious it wasn’t bigger, angry they hadn’t made a huge blazing bonfire every single night for just such a chance as this.

The plane rumbled overhead—a small plane flying relatively low. There was a chance if the pilot looked down he would see them, see the tiny flicker of fire, see the two men silhouetted against the white sand and darkening sky.

“Help! Down here! We’re here! Help! Rescue us! Help! Down here!”

For a moment it seemed the plane might be changing its course, turning slightly as if circling over them to see what the ruckus was. Sam’s heart somersaulted in his chest at the thought of their imminent rescue. Donovan must have come to the same conclusion because he redoubled his efforts, dancing and leaping like a maniac as he shouted to the passing plane.

The plane didn’t change its course.

It didn’t swoop back to see what was down on the tiny island.

Sam and Donovan continued to shout until they were hoarse, waving and leaping as the plane flew past them, growing smaller in the blackening sky, until even the sound of the engines faded completely.

Sam stood stunned, his throat sore, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Donovan stood nearby, his expression dazed, his eyes wide with disbelief. Suddenly, Donovan crumpled as if his bones had suddenly dissolved inside his body. He fell to the ground, his body folding like an accordion as his face hit the sand.

Sam rushed over to him, alarmed. “Donovan! Donovan! What is it? Are you okay?” Kneeling beside him, he stroked Donovan’s back as he leaned close to his face. He was still breathing, thank god, but he seemed to be out cold.

Sam pulled at his shoulder, trying to rouse him, but Donovan lay inert, his body dead weight. Fuck. Had he had a heart attack? Should Sam try CPR?

As he struggled to turn Donovan over, Donovan began to shudder, his shoulders shaking, his breath ragged in his throat. An anguished sob escaped Donovan’s lips.

His heart breaking, Sam gently rolled Donovan over so he was lying flat on his back. He tried to wipe away the sand that clung to Donovan’s wet cheeks and mouth. “Hey, hey,” he soothed. “It’s okay. Come on, Donovan. It’s okay.”

He sank down beside Donovan, lifting the sobbing man so he could cradle him in his arms. Tears streamed down his own cheeks as he held him and let him cry.

Finally exhausted, Donovan lay in Sam’s arms with his eyes closed, his breathing now slow and even. Sam stared up at the dark sky, his mind numb as he stroked Donovan’s cheek.