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When he nodded at the ground, I knelt.Submitting.Submitting to him, our relationship, the fucked up life we’d live together, and the love we’d burn in. To Maddox Kane.
He knelt behind me, grabbing my hips with force to position me exactly how he wanted me. Down and dirty in the mud, the storm roared. I cried out in pleasure when he slammed inside me, releasing his own tsunami that rivaled the one the weather set upon us.
The rain cooled our burning skin, but Maddox burned us up.
The thunder echoed through the trees, but Maddox growled louder.
The lightning sizzled in the air, but our chemistry outshone any electrical storm.
The wind whipped at our exposed bodies, but Maddox shielded me from all storms but his own.
He fucked more than the fight out of me. He fucked the life out of me. And when I was half dead in the mud with twigs and leaves stuck to my broken body, he brought me back to life with a second, completely unasked for orgasm.
Holy fuck, Maddox.
25
-Maddox-
Aftershoweringuntilthewater tank ran empty, and Devon pretty much forcing water up his ass to make sure no mud got in there, he called me a dick and fell asleep against my chest.
He got nostalgic last night. I never realized how much that damn tree meant to me. This whole thing started with that tree, and now that he was asleep beside me, not watching me crumble into my feelings, I let myself be sentimental about it, too. A fucking tree. Jesus.
Lying in the tiny bed with Devon’s arm over my chest and his legs damn near forcing mine off the edge, the track was finally quiet. The thunderstorm had ebbed, and despite the morning being grey and gloomy, it was warm and peaceful.
My mind took a trip down memory lane. The night Devon showed up at our trailer with a stab wound and vulnerability in his eyes had been the best and worst night ever. It shook me to see him like that, but I think it shook me even more to realize that it hurt to see him so defeated. I hadn’t been expecting a reaction like that, and that’s what threw me off guard the most. He was supposed to be strong, untouchable, and tough, but seeing him weak and at such a low point showed me we weren’t so different from one another. It was the first time I really related to him.
From there, we fought this thing with everything we had. It didn’t come naturally to us to mesh our lives together and morph from hate to love, and it was especially hard to admit to it. A part of me wondered if we could have ended up here on our own or if we would still be floundering around like useless tits if our brothers hadn’t intervened. That night at the gravel pit…goddamn. It wasn’t graceful, but when we gave in, our lives changed forever. I switched from being an asshole with a vendetta against my enemy to being an asshole with a burning desire for my biggest rival. Devon had always been the focal point of my life, even when I didn’t realize it. He was the stitch in my side, the downfall of my mood, and the source of most of my frustrations, but he also became my salvation, my hope, and the love of my life.
Fucked.
I wrapped my arm around him a little tighter, not ready to let him go just yet. Was I some mushy romantic with the need to dote on him all the time? Fuck no. But I wanted to give him the world, treat him like the badass he was, remind him of the dumbass he’d always been, and forever tell him he had my whole damn heart. All of it. No matter how insecure and jealous he got, it’d always belong to him. Devon was it for me.
Despite how often we pissed each other off, messed up our relationship, or used fists instead of words to sort out our problems, I wouldn’t want it any other way. A therapist would tell us we thrived on domestic abuse. Maybe we did. Maybe it wasn’t healthy. But I didn’t see it as abuse. I saw it as a challenge. We were physical people, and our relationship became physical because of it. Our dynamic was flawed, and if he was a chick, I’d probably be in prison for life, but he wasn’t, and I didn’t see the point in comparing us to anyone else. We were different. It wasn’t about hurting each other; not anymore. It was about letting feelings out in the ways we spoke best, and communicating with one another in conversation types that made sense to us. Why did anyone else need to be in our business? We weren’t hurting each other.Much.
Perfection bored me, and Devon was the farthest thing from it. Together we didn’t resemble anything even close to perfect, and maybe that’s why I loved us so much. We were grit and gravel, held together with spit and superglue, fused among all our jagged bits.
Breathing him in, I reminded myself that this shit with Jim would end eventually. Xavi had a plan to lure Jim to Garron Park, and then we’d get rid of him, with or without help from the cops. This time, we had an actual lead. Gary had slipped up. My dad got a little… creative with his questioning, and Gary admitted that the contents from that shipping container really had been stolen, and they were being held in Garron somewhere. So, we planned to find them and offer them to Jim on a silver platter.
We also found a way to get a message to Jim. Patrick fucking Harris, that yellow aviator wearing son of a bitch, had been screwed out of this deal by Jim. The shipping container was supposed to be his con, and now that Jim had fucked it up and hidden the contents from him, he had his own vendetta with that pathetic fuckup who sired my boyfriend. Patrick claimed not to know where the contents were, but I didn’t trust him… or his aviators.
I’d find that contraband first, and when I did, I’d find a way to take Jim down with it. Xavi and Nate were out there now, searching for it, talking to people to see if they’d seen anything, and keeping an eye on Gary. Gary was in on it, we just didn’t know how deep yet.
I brushed Devon’s overgrown hair off his forehead, running my fingers through the blond strands. This idiot needed a haircut so bad, but I had to admit, it was nice having the extra length to grip. Devon was the only person alive who could make me soft. To everyone else, I was a broody, miserable asshole with anger issues and a bad vibe, but Devon made me warmer, and sure, sometimes I hated when he did that. Especially in public. I needed to remain the asshole for all intents and purposes. Another thing Devon had that no one else did? Power over me. I’d never tell him that, but he fucking owned me, body, blood, and bones. I was pretty sure he already knew. We didn’t have anything fairytale about us, but we had a fuck ton of things others didn’t.
We had loyalty, despite how flawed it was at times.
We had desire, even though it burned so fiercely it made us dumb sometimes.
We had openness, even if it wounded my pride to admit certain things to him.
We had each other. Love, loyalty, comfort, and a level of respect that outshone all else. I won the motherfucking jackpot with this asshole.Fucking take me, bud.Take all of me, because there was no one else I’d ever give a scrap of myself to.
“No,” Devon groaned. “Brain. Loud. Stop.”
Guess I was a loud thinker. I still hadn’t learned to meditate, but I probably put it off because I wanted him to feel me think.
“Let’s go get breakfast,” I said instead, kissing his hair like a sap.
