Black Promise (Obsidian 3)

I remained in the same position when I was finished, my face still pressed into her neck. I could smell her natural scent so easily, and I adored it. My cock softened inside her but was in no rush to leave. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” She sighed and kept her limbs locked around me, having no interest in leaving either.

“I could stay just like this all day.”

“Me too…except I have to pee.”

I chuckled then kissed her hairline. “Good point.” I moved off of her and slowly pulled out, my cock still releasing drops of my seed. When I looked down at her entrance, I could see my come dripping out.

Now I was turned on all over again.

Rome moved her fingers between her legs and touched the area, getting the come stuck to her fingers. She popped them into her mouth and sucked.

Holy fuck.

She gave me a seductive grin before she got out of bed.

I wasn’t letting her get away after that. I snatched her by the wrist and yanked her back to the bed. Positioning her diagonally across the bed, I moved on top of her again and shoved my semi-hard cock inside her. I moved through her slickness and the remains of my come, and within minutes, I was hard all over again. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

“Since we don’t have any plans today, how about we go see your mom?” Rome set the plates on the table, grilled chicken with rice and vegetables. She sat down like the conversation was casual.

But when it came to my mom, it was never casual.

I hadn’t read to my mom in a while. I was too distressed when Rome left me, and when she came back, I was too preoccupied. Every time I went and saw my mother, I hoped things would get easier—but they never did.

When I didn’t say anything, Rome looked up from her plate and looked at me.

“I haven’t seen her in a while. Been meaning to stop by.” I took a bite.

“Then we should go today.”

I didn’t want to make things complicated, but there was something I needed to say. “I appreciate the offer, but you don’t have to come with me. I don’t mind going alone.”

She eyed me hesitantly, like she was unsure if she’d said the wrong thing. “Would you prefer to go alone?”

“No. I just don’t want you to feel obligated.” She was my mom, not hers. It wasn’t a burden for Rome to carry.

“I don’t feel obligated, Calloway,” she said quietly. “You don’t have to do everything alone. We’re in this together, you know. You helped me with Hank when you didn’t have to. I want to help you in whatever way I can. My presence seems to help her memory…”

The longer this relationship progressed, the more I realized just how dependent I was. Before Rome came into my life, I wasn’t attached to anyone or anything. I alone and free, but I was okay with that. But the instant I looked at Rome, I felt something. She turned out to be a woman I could never walk away from. The affection, the closeness, everything was nice. Now I was addicted to it. “Okay. We’ll go after we’re done eating.”

With the same book tucked under my arm, we entered the assisted-living facility and greeted my mother’s nurse. She always remembered me since I’d been coming there for years. She knew a lot about my life, about my job, and even my younger brother, Jackson. But it didn’t make up for the fact that my mother didn’t even remember my face.

We walked to my mother’s room, a small one-bedroom apartment with a living room, a kitchen, and a single bedroom down the hallway. It was a nice place with plenty of room for a single person, and the balcony was the best part. It cost me an arm and a leg to keep her here, especially since Jackson refused to contribute. But it was worth it to know she was in a good place.

My mom was on the patio in her rocking chair, like always. When she was well, she used to do the exact same thing. Any excuse to be outside was a good excuse. She liked to spend her time gardening or just sipping a glass of lemonade as she watched the neighborhood kids go by on their bikes.

I examined her features the moment I stepped outside, seeing my eyes in her face. Even without her memory, she possessed the same grace. Her outfits always had to be beautiful and wrinkle-free, and the jewelry she wore was very specific. She had no one to impress, but her need to look nice was one of principle.

Like every other time I saw her, I introduced myself. “I’m Calloway. I’m from Humanitarians United, and I’ve come to read to you.” I extended my hand.