Page 86 of Walking in Darkness
The energy begged between them.
Alive and real and eternal.
An understanding that surpassed all boundaries.
A bond that stretched beyond worlds.
“’Night, you two,” Timothy rumbled.
“Good night,” Pax and I returned.
Timothy slipped his arm around Dani and began to lead her down the hall toward her room at the end.
She paused only to slant me a knowing glance before she fully turned and stepped into her bedroom, Timothy right behind her.
The door clicked shut.
Pax and I watched, reverence in the air before our gazes moved toward each other.
That same connection billowed and weaved.
Though ours somehow felt familiar.
The soft smiles that fluttered across our lips.
Pax eased forward, his face cast in the bare light that shone from the sconce that hung on the hallway wall.
Striking, gorgeous angles.
He slipped an arm around my waist.
“It’s good, Aria. It’s fuckin’ good.” His voice was coarse. Grating with sincerity.
My fingers found the steady beat that pounded at the center of his chest.
“I know,” I murmured through the fervency that thudded within mine.
A giggle echoed down the hall, and Pax smirked, though it was adoring, and he pressed a kiss to my temple as he wound an arm around my neck and muttered, “Come on, we should get some rest.”
We stepped into the room, and Pax clicked the door shut behind us. He moved to the end of the bed where his duffel sat on top of the mattress. I’d already changed into sleep pants and a loose shirt, my feet bare.
Pax shucked off his boots and jeans and tee, all the way down to his underwear. He watched me the entire time where I hovered near the door, just as surely as I watched him.
He straightened, his body hewn in all that sinewy, defined muscle. The horrors were so clear where they were written on his scarred, disfigured flesh, though his aura skimmed over the top of them, whispering that things might not be so bleak.
He placed both our bags onto the floor, then moved to the side of the bed nearest me.
I flicked off the light switch, and it sent the room into darkness, though the faintest innuendo of light filtered in through the slats of the white wooden shutters from the porch lamp out front.
It was enough to make out his form, the way his back flexed and bowed as he dragged down the covers, then sat on the edge of the bed.
“Want to hold you.” It sounded like a claiming, and rippled through the energy that tugged between us.
I didn’t hesitate.
I crossed the space separating us and climbed directly onto his lap, wrapping myself around him.
He shifted to lie us down facing each other.
