Truth was, Obsidian was at a loss, terrified that one wrong move would send her running. While he’d always prided himself on his strength, he couldn’t deny there was an underlying insecurity. Especially when it came to her. He’d spent centuries waiting for the female he could love him with everything he was. Now that Penelope was within reach, that vulnerability was wreaking havoc. Obsidian couldn’t chance losing her before he ever had her.
“They’re so bright and … they’re swirling. Why?”
“It’s a long story, one that can wait until we sleep for a bit.”
Obsidian was surprised when Penelope nodded, accepting his evasive response. Not willing to chance her changing her mind, he got to his feet, reached for her hand, then helped her up. She continued to stare, making him feel a bit uneasy. Like a specimen that required dissection.
Once in the bedroom, he barely caught himself before he used his mind to turn on the lights.
“Are your eyes really sensitive to light?” she asked as he flipped on the small lamp by the bed. “Or do you wear them to hide the fact they glow?”
“Both. Here.” Obsidian reached behind his head and tugged his T-shirt off. “You can wear this. It’ll be more comfortable because … yours is still damp.”
As she’d done the last time he removed his shirt, Penelope’s eyes instantly zoned in. Her obvious approval did something for him in a major way.
“I’ll … I’ll just go change in the bathroom.”
While she went off to do her thing, Obsidian reclined on the bed, keeping his boots on to show her he had nothing planned except for sleep.
Good thing, too, because when Penelope returned, she was once again on edge. Right up until she noticed he was still dressed. She, on the other hand, was clad only in his T-shirt. The black cotton covered her from neck to knee—though it did hang off one shoulder and offered a delicious glimpse of her puckered nipples—but it was the sight of her wearing it that did it for him.
“Come on,” he urged, patting the pillow beside him.
Cautiously, she crawled into the bed. Just as she was about to lay her head on the pillow, Obsidian reached for her, pulling her against him.
“I promise, I’ll keep my hands to myself. I just want you close.”
She sighed as she relaxed her head into the crook of his shoulder. Her hand rested on his stomach, making the muscles tense.
“Your feet are hanging off the end of the bed,” she said softly.
He smiled, staring up at the ceiling. That was a small price to pay. “Sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
He’d expected some sort of argument, but Penelope didn’t put up a fight. In fact, her breaths evened out shortly after she snuggled up to him.
With his hand covering hers where it rested on his chest, Obsidian allowed himself to drift when Penelope slipped off into slumber, but it didn’t last long. Probably because he didn’t want to miss a minute of being with her. Rather than sleep through it, he remained in the darkened room, content to have her nestled close, to listen to her soft breaths and the steady beat of her heart.
The coldness he’d felt in her absence last night was nonexistent because he was with her. Though she hadn’t mentioned it, Obsidian had to wonder if she’d felt it, too. It was brought on by distance, and as things progressed, the more time they spent together, the more insistent it would become when they were apart. It was the Fates’ way of ensuring two souls destined to be together remained together.
Had it not been for the fact she was hesitant to move forward at his pace, Obsidian would’ve taken her back to the house, gotten her into his bed, and kept her there for days. Only, there was so much more she needed to know before he could do that. Revealing to this female that he was not human was going to require finesse, and right now, he wasn’t sure he could muster any up.
Obsidian drifted in and out of sleep, rousing only to ensure Penelope was still beside him before nodding off again. The minutes turned into hours as the sun blazed high in the sky. His skin prickled as it always did when the sun sank beyond the horizon, signaling it was safe for him to go outside once again.
Penelope stirred, peering around the darkened room. She yawned, stretched. “How long did I sleep?”
He peered at the clock. “Roughly eight hours.”
She snuggled back up to him. “Good thing I don’t have to work tonight. Did you sleep?”
“A little.”
“What are you thinking about?” she murmured, shifting against him, her soft hand sliding over his stomach, causing every muscle in his body to harden.
“You.”
He could feel her smile against his chest.
“Me? And what thoughts are going through that handsome head of yours?”
