Black Obsidian (Obsidian 1)

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.”