Black Obsidian

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Black Obsidian Page 13

by Victoria Quinn


  I stared into his handsome face and thought he was the most perfect man in the world. Without even realizing it, I knew I’d started to fall for him. I wasn’t sure when it began, perhaps the night at the charity gala, but I’d been falling fast and for a long time. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

  “Me?” The corner of his mouth rose in a smile.

  “Yes.” I rested my hand against his chest. “You.”

  “How so?”

  “For one, you’re sexy as hell.”

  He grinned from ear to ear. “I really like this conversation. What else?”

  “You’re compassionate. You help people for a living, and that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  He didn’t say anything to that, hardly acknowledging it.

  “You’re a really good kisser.”

  He smiled again. “It takes two to tango, sweetheart. But, thanks.”

  “When I asked you not to feel bad for me, you listened.”

  His smile disappeared instantly.

  “I’ve been looking for a someone man enough for me my whole life. I didn’t think there were any real men out there.”

  “I’m definitely man enough for you.” He gripped my hip then slid his hand to my lower back. His fingers dug into my skin with authority, claiming my body as his to enjoy. “I’ll make every other man you’ve been with look pathetic.”

  My track record was pretty low, so that wouldn’t be hard for him to accomplish. I had trust issues, so it was impossible for me to let anyone in. But Calloway was different, and I knew it. He carried the same kind of scars I did even if he didn’t show it. I knew he understood me, respected me, and would never hurt me. “You already have.”

  He kissed the corner of my mouth and tightened his grip around my waist. “Did you ever slap the man you originally meant to slap?”

  “Taylor’s ex?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Actually, no. After I made an idiot out of myself with you, I kinda forgot about it. She did too.”

  “He cheated on her.”

  “He was married with two kids and never told her—despicable.”

  He nodded in agreement. “If you can’t be faithful, don’t be in a relationship. It’s that simple.” He eyed my lips like he wanted to kiss me again. “I’m sorry for your friend.”

  “She bounced back. I just feel bad for his wife. She’s married to an asshole, and she doesn’t even know it.”

  “Taylor never told her?”

  “No.” She didn’t want to break up a family and have that guilt on her shoulders for the rest of her life.

  “Hopefully that was a one-time thing,” he said. “And maybe now he appreciates his family.”

  I highly doubted it. “But I’m glad I slapped you instead of him. We wouldn’t be here now if I hadn’t…”

  “That makes two of us.” His hand moved up my spine until it dug into my hair at the back of my neck. He fisted it like always, grabbing the strands like reins. “And you can slap me again whenever you want.”

  I chuckled. “Maybe if you’re bad.”

  His eyes darkened in intensity. “I’ll be bad if you slap me.”

  My chuckles died away as the confusion took over. I thought he was kidding about the slaps, but now I couldn’t tell. “What?”

  He kissed me slowly on the mouth and changed the subject, making me focus on the way his soft lips felt against mine. He gave me some of his tongue, his breaths coming out hot and fiery. He suddenly pulled away and settled next to me again like nothing happened. “You asked me if there was a reason why I help people. You asked if I suffered something myself.”

  I remembered that conversation. When he told me his childhood was normal and he didn’t suffer, I wasn’t sure if I believed him. He seemed so dark at the time. “I remember.”

  “Well, there is a reason. I just don’t like to talk about it.”

  “You don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to.” He never pressured me to open up about my past. He only took what I gave and appreciated it. I didn’t want to push him when he didn’t want to be pushed.

  He ignored my last statement. “My dad was a substance abuser. Mainly coke and alcohol. When he took too much, he became a different person. He did things to my brother and me that we’ll never forget. And he did things to other people…people who didn’t deserve it. I was grateful when my mother passed away, so she didn’t have to know about the shit that happened.”

  My chest ached in response, feeling the exact same kind of pain he felt. Whatever he felt, I felt it twice as hard. I’d suffered a lot in my young lifetime, but knowing someone else went through it didn’t make me feel better. In fact, it made me feel worse. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

  “It doesn’t matter how long ago it was,” I whispered. “You never forget.”

  His fingers gently glided through my hair and down the back of my neck. “No. But it gets easier.”

  It was the first time he told me something private about himself, and I was grateful he shared it. “Thanks for telling me.”

  “You can trust me. And I can trust you.”

  “Yeah…it seems so.”

  He kissed my neck before he sat up and eyed the time on the clock. “It’s getting late…” It was his somewhat polite way of excusing me.

  My neck practically snapped at the whiplash I just received. One moment, he was sweet and open, sharing a secret he never told anyone else. And the next, he was kicking me out of his bed again.

  What was his deal?

  “I have to work in the morning, and I know you do too.” He pulled the covers back and sat up. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

  “Uh, seriously?”

  “Seriously, what?” He turned his body and looked at me, his chiseled physique unable to save him this time.

  “Don’t couples sleep together?”

  “Yeah. But what does that have to do with this?”

  “Why don’t you want me to sleep over?” I sat up and pulled the sheets over my chest, hiding my nakedness now that the sweet and tender moment was over.

  “It’s not that I don’t want you to sleep over. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “Then why are you kicking me out?”

  “I’m not kicking you out,” he argued. “It’s just getting late, and we should get some rest.”

  “And we can’t do that here?” This guy was perfect in every way except for this. It seemed like he was hiding something, but what? “Are you seeing someone else?” I said the words but couldn’t force myself to believe them. I said them because I was mad more than anything.

  Now his eyes turned hostile. He glared at me like I’d just crossed a line drawn in the center of the bed. “Don’t insult me like that ever again.”

  “I’m just asking—”

  “Then don’t ask. I told you I’m yours and you’re mine. Don’t doubt me like that ever again.”

  “Then explain to me—”

  “I don’t owe you an explanation. I don’t owe you a goddamn thing.” He got out of bed, his body thick and threatening. “All I asked was to take you home, and you turned it into something else. Maybe I’m not ready to sleep with you yet. You won’t fuck me, and I respected that, so you need to respect this.” He grabbed my clothes and threw them at me. “Get your ass dressed, and let’s go.”

  My jaw dropped to the floor because I was shocked by what he said. With the snap of a finger, his anger exploded, and he told me off like I did something terrible to him. Just a second ago, my heart was aching for him. Now, I just wanted to slap him upside the head. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

  He pulled his shirt over his head and got his jeans on. “I’ll say whatever I damn well please. Get over it.”

  Now my anger reached an all-time high. He turned into a different person right before my eyes, and I didn’t like it one bit. My rage took control over my body, and I marched to him then slapped him hard
across the face. I put my entire body into it and hit him as hard as I could, making my palm slap audibly against his hard cheek.

  He turned with the hit, his face snapping to the right as the momentum of my palm collided with his skin. The rest of his body remained stationary, his wide and powerful shoulders not shifting a single inch. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, his body tense to the breaking point.

  He slowly turned his gaze back to me, his blue eyes suddenly looking gray. His heavy breathing continued, and his powerful chest rose with every breath. His nostrils flared as he looked down at me, and like a rhino free from his cage, he was about to charge.

  I held my ground and dared him to make a move.

  He suddenly reached for me, grabbing me by the neck and pulling me into him.

  I threw my elbow down and severed the touch before I slapped him again.

  His eyes widened, and his body tensed even further. “Fuck.”

  I didn’t know what was happening between us, but I couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. I should’ve felt threatened, even in danger, but I didn’t. Scorching heat flowed between us, and I felt it burn me all the way through. Inexplicably, I wanted to slap him again—and again.

  He snatched me again, this time, getting both of my wrists behind my back before he threw me onto the bed. He pinned me down with his size and kept me pressed into the mattress without any hope of escape.

  He squeezed my wrists so hard they started to ache.

  “Slap me again and see what happens.” He pressed his cock into my thigh, the definition obvious through his jeans. He was harder than ever before, solid as steel. “Slap me if you want to get fucked so hard you can’t walk. Slap me if you want to get fucked in your mouth, your pussy, and your ass. Do it.”

  My nipples hardened so much they actually hurt. They were sore as they rubbed against the padding inside my bra. They ached like someone just sucked them raw. My thighs tightened together as a pool of moisture flooded between my legs. Instead of being scared and appalled, I was insanely aroused.

  He continued to stare into my eyes with the same threatening expression, promising to make good on his word if I didn’t take him seriously. He finally released my wrists and stepped away, his shoulders still tense with imminent threat.

  I didn’t say another word.

  I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know what just happened between us. It was borderline violent and inexcusable, but at the same time, I’d never felt so alive. The blood in my veins sang because it felt so wrong, it felt right.

  “I’ll take a cab.” I just wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible. Despite how aroused I was, I needed to run. I needed to think about what just happened here and make some sense of it.

  “No. I’m taking you home.” The quiet threat in his voice told me not to disobey him. If I did, there would be serious consequences.

  And I believed him.

  13

  Calloway

  I stormed into the office and grabbed the nearest table before I picked it up and smashed it into the ground. Two of the legs popped off, and the wood cracked right down the center. “Motherfucker!” The lamp fell on the ground but didn’t break, so I grabbed it and threw it against the wall. Like glass, it shattered.

  Jackson closed my office door and stared at me in shock, his lips pressed tightly together like he was preventing himself from saying something that would set me off. He locked the door from the inside and continued to watch me, his eyes following my movement. “Bad day, huh?”

  “Fuck off, Jackson. I’m not in the mood.” I walked around my desk and dropped into the large leather chair. Not a single picture frame was on my desk because I didn’t have anyone waiting for me at home—not even a dog.

  I rested my elbow on the desk then rubbed my temple, trying to rid my head of the migraine that appeared from nowhere thirty minutes ago. Blood pounded in my head and ignited my temper even more. I could’ve killed someone—with my bare hands.

  Jackson slowly trailed farther into my office, his hands in his pockets. “I’m guessing this has something to do with that vanilla girl?”

  Vanilla girl.

  How ingenious.

  He lowered himself into the chair facing my desk. “What happened?”

  “Stop asking me shit like we’re friends.”

  “We aren’t friends. We’re brothers. So talk to me.”

  I didn’t tell anyone anything. I’d been that way my entire life. The more someone knew about you, the easier it was for them to tear you down. But Jackson was right. He was my last family member in the world, and I shouldn’t take him for granted. One day, I could lose my mind just the way my mother did, and my life would have absolutely no meaning—because I wouldn’t remember it. “I fucked it up.”

  “What happened?”

  “We were lying in bed and everything was fine. Then I told her I would take her home.”

  Jackson remained quiet because he knew there was more to the story.

  “She wanted to stay, and I said no.”

  “Why did you say no?”

  “I don’t do sleepovers. Never have and never will.” Isabella understood this because she was my submissive. I told her it was a hard limit for me, and she never broke it. She listened to my word like it was rule of law. Why couldn’t Rome do the same?

  “You told her that?”

  “No. I didn’t really give her an explanation. I lost my temper and said a lot of stupid shit. Then she slapped me…and that fucked things up even more.”

  “She slapped you?” He grinned. “She’s got balls.”

  She absolutely does. “She slapped me a few more times, and I almost raped her on my bed. Somehow, I found the strength not to. Immediately, I switched into my dominant side. I told her to obey me or I would make her obey me. I completely lost control. And I’m pretty sure I lost her too.” She wasn’t ready to see that side of me. I didn’t ease her into it or even explain what kind of man I was. She just saw the beast come out without any warning.

  “Shit…”

  “Yeah.” I kept rubbing my temple, wishing the night was just a nightmare.

  “Again, why didn’t you just let her sleep there?”

  “How am I supposed to come down here when she’s sleeping in my bed? She’ll know I go somewhere at night, and I’ll have to explain Ruin…and she won’t understand right now. We aren’t there yet.”

  “Honestly, I don’t think you’re ever going to get there.”

  My blood went cold. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Open your eyes, man. She’s never going to be a sub. She’s vanilla, and we both know it. Do you really want to hide who you are? Why do we run this place? It’s so we can be ourselves with people just like us. With this chick, you’re going to have to be someone you aren’t. Is that what you really want?”

  It didn’t take me long to find my answer. “No.”

  “Then cut her loose, and go back to Isabella. She’ll take you back in a heartbeat.”

  That was where I met my obstacle. “But I don’t want to go back to Isabella. I want Rome.” I couldn’t deny it because the feeling was deep in my gut. Despite her plainness, I craved her. I wanted to drag her into the dark with me, becoming swallowed in the shadows until we were one with the darkness. I didn’t want to do it with anyone else—only Rome.

  “Well, you can’t have vanilla girl. You tried and failed.”

  “I didn’t fail. We just…hit a rough patch.”

  “After what happened, she’s not going to want anything to do with you, man.” He shook his head, his hard jaw stern just like mine. He had the same predatory look I had—the same look our father had. “She’s going to think you’re a freak. A monster.”

  Unfortunately, he was probably right about that.

  14

  Rome

  “Yo, what’s up?” Christopher walked inside my apartment and grabbed a beer from the fridge. “What’s the big emergency?” He fell on
the moth-eaten couch and put his feet on the coffee table. He turned his ear toward the door like he was listening for something. “It’s awfully quiet around here. Did someone move out?”

  “The guy across the hall did.”

  “The one that plays music all night long?”

  “Yeah.”

  He nodded. “Good riddance.”

  I sat beside him with a glass of wine and the full bottle in hand. “I don’t know what to do about Calloway. It might not work out.”

  Christopher almost spit out his beer as he swallowed. “Whoa, hold on.” He wiped his mouth on his collared shirt and set the beer on the coffee table. “What did you say?”

  “We got into a fight last night, and weird stuff happened…”

  With both eyebrows arched, he stared me down. “You’re going to need to be more specific than that.”

  Christopher and I weren’t related by blood, but it was still weird to talk about my love life with him. It was something neither one of us ever mentioned. “We were in bed and…” I felt awkward just saying that much. “And I wanted to sleep over, but he wanted me to leave.”

  His eyes narrowed as his gaze darkened. “He slept with you then kicked you out? Now that’s a dick move.”

  “We didn’t sleep together. We just…yeah.” God, this was weird.

  “Oh…gotcha.” Christopher would normally make a joke or two, but he kept his maturity unnaturally high. “Did he say why?”

  “No. And then I got kinda mad and said some things I didn’t mean…that he was going to go out and hook up with someone. Then he yelled at me and told me to mind my own business. So I slapped him.” I cringed at that last part.

  “Shit. That sounds like a real fight.”

  “It got out of hand.” To say the least.

  “Why are you thinking about stepping away? Couples fight all the time.”

  “But don’t you think it’s weird he won’t let me sleep over? It’s the second time he’s done that.”

  Christopher grabbed his beer from the table and took a drink. “Honestly, I’m on his side for this one.”

 

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