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Magic. The energy he created made me create my own, and when it mingled with his, it became a force to be reckoned with. That’s where the true magic happened. Some people called it tension, some called it chemistry, but I just knew it asus. When that magic hit, it struck me in a whole new way this time. My throat clogged with more than just lust.

Finally being able to have him as intimately as I’d wanted him for the whole month I’d been home from the hospital… it all rushed at me; hard and aggressive. It was love. That once-in-a-lifetime kind. Real, raw, and hostile. It came at me, tearing through me like another bullet, assaulting my body and mind with the sensation of getting everything I’d ever wanted after going through hell to get it. I’d been touch starved—connection starved—and Devon finally fed me.

Goddammit, do not cry during sex!

“Maddox,” Devon whispered against my lips, his forehead against mine. “I feel you.”

I didn’t really know what that meant, but I got the sentiment of it. He felt it, too. Tilting my chin, I looked into his eyes and saw the same emotional connection that I felt.

Devon survived.

I survived.

We were home. Together.

Together. Together. Together.

Everything rushed at me at once. The feelings manifested into something physical, and without much warning, I coughed out a moan and came. My eyes burned with tears of strain, blurring my vision to sharpen the feeling of touch.

“Oh, God,” I groaned, digging my blunt nails into his skin, holding him down on my cock while I filled his ass with cum and kissed his gaping mouth. Devon’s orgasm was silent, but his body trembled on mine and his cock rubbed against my abs, coating me in the best mess.

Rapture and the rising; damnation and all our sins. They mingled for a time, and the intensity of it overwhelmed me blissfully.

We were two fuck ups in a corner of the world we’d probably never get out of, but we found each other here and that’s all that mattered. I spent too much time feeling sorry for myself when I should have been counting my blessings. Something had always been on my side because it put Devon in my life during childhood, and as an adult, he turned into the love of my life. That in itself was more of a miracle than I could have ever hoped to accomplish in my shitty time here.

“I love you,” I told him with force. “So fucking much.”

Devon collapsed against me, putting all his weight exactly where he promised not to. Backwards asshole. I kept myself buried inside him, unwilling to lose the connection after needing it for so long. I held him close and couldn’t even stop kissing him long enough for him to say he loved me, too. I knew. He didn’t have to say it.

Tonight lost me to a hurricane of feelings that, for once, I didn’t resent. Tomorrow, I’d get back to kicking his ass, but for now, I’d live in this feeling we shared. Created.

Love.

True love.

Themiddleofthenight was a bitch. The bedroom had turned into a hotbox of hell, even with two fans going, and my mind turned into a darker kind of hell. Thoughts and questions and possible scenarios got all jumbled up in there, and I couldn’t untangle them enough to get back to sleep. Not even the sound of Devon’s melodic snores could bore me into unconsciousness. So, I stared at the ceiling and tried to figure out what exactly was on my mind.

I mean, things were finally good with Devon. He learned a few lessons and we were over our internal relationship shit. All this time, I thought outside sources would rip us apart, but nope. We did that. Relationships were hard, and I had no fucking idea how hard until we tried to mesh our lives and needs together. We were our own worst enemies, but I had hope that we were over that now. More problems would come, but we were better equipped to handle them now that we had strength and understanding on our side.

Things were fine at work. I would still be on leave for another month, but my boss and a few of the guys had been checking in, and I felt good about going back. Nate and Xavi ran the shop while Devon played househusband. He went in for a few hours every day, but he never stayed for long. I told him a thousand times to get out of my face and go back to work, but he told me to get bent every time I said it, so there was that. Full 180 there. I think he secretly knew I loved being annoyed by him.

Other than work, Devon, and our brothers, my life didn’t consist of much, so I had no idea why my mind wouldn’t turn off. My dad had been around a lot lately, which was weird as hell, but it’d been going alright. He wasn’t leading my mom on, even though I could tell they both wanted to try their relationship out for the billionth time. It was my dad who held back, probably because he didn’t fully trust himself or his ability to maintain his sobriety yet. It showed maturity and compassion, which made me feel better about him. If only my mom, as needy as a fucking dog in heat, would get the memo and give him a bit of space. Jesus.

So other than that shit, the only thing that could possibly be fucking with my head was Jim. Nothing about what he did made sense. Nothing. It didn't add up, and it didn’t measure up. Which was precisely why I was a fucking hypocrite and didn’t let any of it go like I’d told Devon I wanted to.

Why’d he go through all that trouble to get those documents if he never planned on doing anything with them? Or had something actually happened to him or the boat after he left, thwarting his plans? The captain of the ship had been questioned, and of course, he said everything on board arrived where it was supposed to arrive, and he had no knowledge of any illegal contraband. Claimed he personally checked each shipping container. I called bullshit on that, but I had no way of proving it. What ship captain in on a con would willingly admit to carrying anything illegal?

So, considering all that, only two things could have happened. One, Jim got whatever he’d been gunning for and then went into hiding after making a deal with the captain. Or two, something prevented him from working the job. A possible third scenario could have been that the whole thing was bullshit, and Jim just used it as a way to discredit Devon, but I couldn’t figure out how that benefited him. Plus, he tried to have Devon murdered, so it had to be because Devon knew too much. Or maybe Jim was just that spiteful.

The wheels in my mind spun out, not knowing what to focus on or how to puzzle it all together. All I knew for sure was that Jim was still out there somewhere, either rich as fuck or poor as fuck, but either way, he remained a threat to us. To Devon. To Nate. I couldn’t rest until I knew he wouldn’t pop back up with another gun to take away the only life that had ever meant anything to me. I didn’t know if Devon was collateral damage to him, or if the hit had been personal, and the not knowing fucked me up something fierce.

“Shut up,” Devon groaned, his voice muffled by his pillow.

“I didn't say shit.”

“Your brain is shouting at me. Tell it to fuck off.” He cocked out a leg and hugged the pillow, his sexy body on a nice display.

Okay, shutting up.

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