Page 5 of Into Hell: Prelude (Holding Cell: Return to the Island)

D onald crept back to his bedroom, quietly shutting the door.

He was still half asleep when he shuffled to the bathroom, and on his way back, he overheard Kane and Cochise in the kitchen.

Their tense voices drew him down the hall to listen in.

Hearing the island mentioned alarmed him, as he had hoped never to hear the name of that nightmare place again.

Crawling back into bed, Donald felt queasy; was Clint and Cochise going back there?

He looked at the boy lying next to him, fast asleep.

John had yet to heal from the trauma of the island.

Though they slept in the same bed—it seemed to make John feel safe—they still hadn’t made love.

Months after the island, John still panicked a little if their “affection” turned sexual.

Donald understood and would never consider pressuring him. Sleeping next to him, loving him so deeply, was not easy, especially since he could do nothing more than hold and kiss him. Some gentle touches were acceptable—as long as they stayed above the waist.

Sadly, John thought he was depriving Donald of a full and healthy relationship.

Donald disagreed and told him so every time John expressed his concerns.

Still, John felt guilty for not being able to have sex with his boyfriend, who, although he tried to hide it as much as possible, desperately wanted that physical, intimate connection.

Donald feared that John would break up with him because of it and wondered if it already would have happened if they hadn’t lived in the same house.

Although the situation wasn’t easy on Donald as a young, hormonal man, he didn’t want to be with anyone but John.

He’d fallen in love with John while the boy was in a coma, not knowing anything about him, and that love had lasted after he woke up.

Looking into his eyes for the very first time, Donald’s love for the young man cemented in his heart and never wavered, not once.

He had nearly lost John to the island—both literally and figuratively.

A part of him had been lost, and only time would tell if he would get it back.

Donald feared that the small amount of progress John had made in forgetting the island would be wiped out if the gangsters returned there.

No one spoke about it, which made it easier for John to try to put it behind him.

But if it became the subject of conversation again… what would that do to John?

Donald turned onto his side and pulled the blankets over his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around John, who was sleeping with his back to him.

Donald placed a thin pillow between their hips, just like every night, in case of heated dreams. John never mentioned the pillow, but it definitely added to his guilt of “depriving” Donald.

Still, what else could he do? He figured the pillow was better than John waking up to a massive chub grinding at him.

“I love you, baby,” Donald whispered into his shampoo-scented hair, inhaling his aroma as his arms tightened around the boy. The sensation of John’s warm, firm body against his own confirmed that the pillow was, indeed, a good idea.

Axel felt sick. The island. Surely, they weren’t going back there. Why would they?

“Clint…” Axel swallowed, actually tasting bile in the back of his throat.

“You’re not…” His breath stuttered. “You’re not considering going back to the island…

right? There’s nothing left there. Arden and the others took Alexander, you got rid of Quint, and everything was shut down… there’s no reason to go back.”

“I told you,” Clint mumbled. “I don’t know the specifics. I won’t know until we talk to Alvarez. So, don’t start getting upset when we don’t even know what it’s about yet.”

“How can I not be upset if there’s even a remote chance he’ll ask you to go back to that hellhole?”

“We don’t know anything,” Clint stated with added firmness. “Until we do, there’s no need to get worked up about it.”

Despite his words, the cowboy was tense as fuck, Axel saw it in the fierce way he gripped the counter, the tightness of his jaw, and the flex of his facial muscles.

His entire frame was rigid, every muscle twisted into sinewy knots.

When Axel moved closer and touched his arm, it was like pressing his palm to a steel rod, no give beneath his fingertips.

“Then why are you worried?” Axel slipped in front of him, between his arms, which remained anchored to the counter, and slid his hands inside his jacket, caressing his bare, taut skin.

Clint shuddered and hung his head, his brow resting on Axel’s shoulder.

Axel kissed his ear and whispered, “Forget about the coffee.” He rubbed his hands up Clint’s tense back, his fingertips playing along his spine.

“There’s still time before you have to leave.

” He kissed his throat as Clint raised his head. “Let’s finish what we started.”

Axel held his eyes as he casually unfastened Clint’s jeans, slid the zipper down, and ran his hand inside his Wranglers.

Clint drew in a deep breath, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the counter harder.

Axel kissed his mouth while he squeezed and rubbed the cowboy’s cock inside his jeans, the rough stitched seams grating against the back of his flexing hand.

His own erection formed, pressing through the folds of the robe, bumping Clint’s crotch as the cowboy pressed closer, pushing his hunger into Axel’s palm.

A guttural groan rumbled through the cowboy’s chest as their kiss deepened, growing with heat and intensity. Axel moaned into his mouth and worked his cock with added urgency until Clint was rutting against his hand.

Clint wrenched from the kiss, breath ragged, and directed Axel toward the bedroom.

“We can’t.” Axel halted him, panting. “Luke is in our bed, asleep.” Axel detoured to the sofa, pushing Clint down on the cushions, and went to his knees between the cowboy’s legs.

He kissed Clint’s ridged abdomen all over while he pulled out his engorged erection, running his fists up and down the thick stem.

“ Fuck.” Clint shed his jacket like a second skin, his fingers diving into the soft, golden curls of Axel's hair as he pressed his cock through the young man's yielding hands. The embers of his earlier desire roared back to life, a fiery inferno consuming all restraint. Axel squeezed the cowboy’s stiff length, the purple veins along his shaft throbbing with renewed vigor.

The tip swelled and wept, glistening with evidence of his arousal.

Axel's tongue darted out, flicking the sensitive slit, and Clint's body convulsed as if struck by lightning, a guttural curse torn from his lips.

The cowboy was a live wire, too far gone for gentle teasing.

Axel could see the barely contained storm in his eyes, and he knew that now was not the time for torment.

He parted his lips and took Clint into the heated cavern of his mouth, sucking him deep into the tight grip of his throat.

Clint grunted, a raw, primal sound, his hands clutching wildly at Axel's curls as his hips bucked upward.

Axel relaxed his throat, welcoming the invasion, taking him deeper still.

He worked Clint's considerable length with long, languid strokes, moans rumbling up from his throat and vibrating through the pulsing shaft. Each throaty hum sent shudders rippling through the cowboy’s body, like the tremors of an earthquake building toward inevitable release.

Clint's movements were abrupt, almost violent, as he hauled Axel off him and dragged the younger man onto his lap.

His hands trembled as he tore at the robe's belt, stripping away the garment with a desperation that bordered on frenzy.

Axel, panting, spat into his hand and slicked Clint's dick, the cowboy's member throbbing and eager.

Clint lifted Axel by the ass, his calloused hands rough against smooth flesh, spreading his cheeks.

He sat Axel down on his cock, the younger man's body yielding, inch by thick, pulsating inch.

Axel gasped, his body quivering like a plucked string, eyes rolling back as Clint filled him completely.

A guttural groan escaped Axel, his body convulsing as if shocked by electricity.

He fell forward, clutching Clint's broad shoulders, slick with a sheen of sweat that glistened in the dim light.

Their foreheads pressed together, eyes locked in a primal stare, bodies moving in a synchronized dance.

The rhythm increased, pulsed, like a runaway train barreling towards its destination.

They clung to one another, fucking furiously on the sofa, a symphony of sweat and sin.

Animalistic grunts rumbled up from Clint's throat, his arms like iron bands, squeezing the air from Axel's lungs.

He rammed his cock to the hilt inside the young man, again and again, their bodies slapping together.

Axel, seasoned from their previous encounters, knew how to ride the bucking cowboy.

He clenched his thighs around Clint's hips, gripping hard, rolling with the wild thrusts like a ship cresting stormy seas as their bodies moved in a primal, carnal rhythm.

Axel's fingers dug into the dense strands of Clint's hair, gripping tightly as he bounced on the cowboy's thick cock.

His ass cheeks slapped against Clint's lap with a raw, almost brutal rhythm, the flesh reddening with each impact.

The scent of sweat and sex filled the air, a primal perfume that mingled with the faint smell of leather and dust. Axel's erection slid up and down Clint's ribbed stomach, leaving a glistening trail of precum across the hard muscles.

“ Fuck... baby...” Axel panted, his voice ragged and breathless. “I'm so... close...”

Clint sank his strong fingers into the supple flesh of Axel's ass, spreading him wide and exposing the most intimate parts of him. The cowboy shifted his hips, altering the angle of his thrusts to hit that sweet spot deep inside Axel, driving him closer to the edge with each powerful stroke.

Axel's body convulsed, his breath hitching in desperate gasps.

"Uh-uh-uuhh!" He cried out, his frame rattling in Clint's lap as the cowboy fucked him with a ferocity born of tension and unspoken fears.

Axel's cock pulsed, and ropes of cum streaked up Clint's sweat-slicked stomach and chest, painting his tanned skin with streaks of white.

Without warning, Clint lifted Axel and dropped him onto the sofa, the cushions sighing under the abrupt weight.

The cowboy loomed over him, his body a landscape of hard muscle and sinew, glistening with sweat.

He drove into Axel with relentless power, each thrust grinding him deeper into the sofa, assaulting his prostate with precise, merciless strikes.

Axel wrapped his legs around Clint's waist, his arms clinging to the cowboy's shoulders as his body shuddered with the first stirrings of another erection.

But Clint was already chasing his own release, his body tensing and bowing as he let out a thick grunt.

He shoved in impossibly deep, his cock pulsing as he spilled his hot load into Axel.

His body clenched and jerked wildly, his breath coming in ragged gasps before he finally collapsed onto Axel, his chest heaving.

Axel stroked his hair and back, his lips pressing soft kisses to the cowboy's burning shoulder.

Clint's body trembled under his touch, his breath scorching Axel's throat.

Axel kissed his fevered temple, his voice a shaky whisper, “Whatever comes our way, we'll get through it.” He kissed Clint's ear, his voice steady and sure. “We always do, baby... we always will.”

The room filled with the sound of their breaths mingling, a testament to their passion and their promise.