Defining Darkness - K E Osborn Page 0,18

he’s around, something shifts. The air between us becomes thinner. My skin prickles and tingles. I don’t want it to. Hell, this man is part of the reason my sister and I were stolen from an underground damn nightclub in the first place. But honestly, I can’t control the way my body ignites when he’s around me, the way my heart beats faster in his presence.

Is it from fear?

Or because he excites me more than he terrifies me?

Those drugs he laced me with must have been pretty fucking powerful to make me think anything of him other than the asshole he obviously is.

The door handle on the door begins to rattle, making my head snap to it. I scurry up the bed, sitting right at the top. Bringing the pillow to my chest for comfort, my eyes fixate on the door. I have no idea who’s about to come through or what they want.

I’m scared it’s not Nycto.

I want it to be him.

Because if it’s anyone else, I’m not sure how they’re going to treat me.

The door opens, a small amount of light from outside shines through. I lean a little to try and catch a glimpse. It must be daylight as a strong frame comes into view. With it, my insides clench. Sunglasses frame his face making him look like something from a Top Gun movie. My stomach clenches in delight as he enters carrying a tray. He closes the door behind him, striding over to me.

“Eva,” his voice is low, raspy. It’s like he’s having trouble even saying my name.

I sit forward on the bed, lowering the defensive pillow from my chest. Nycto slowly brings the tray over, placing it on the mattress in front of me, then sits down beside it.

“You brought me food?” I ask, looking down at the Cuban sandwich and chocolate milkshake sitting nicely on the tray.

“You need to eat.” His tone is more demanding than considerate as he takes off his sunglasses. He looks tired, the dark circles around his eyes give him a worried appearance. I won’t let his demeanor lull me into some false sense of security, though.

I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “So, you can poison me? I don’t think so.”

He groans with a huff. “Always so fucking feisty. Fine, here.” He picks up the sandwich in his huge hand, brings it to his delectable lips, then takes a large bite. Placing the sandwich back on the plate, he chews a few times, swallows then sticks out his tongue. “And for good measure.” He picks up my shake, sucking on the straw. “Ahh…” He lets out a contented sigh like he’s enjoying himself. “Delicious. Now you try.”

I turn up my nose. “It has your germs on it. I don’t know where your mouth’s been.”

“I know where I’d like my mouth to be,” he murmurs so low I only just hear it.

“Excuse me?”

“Eat your food, Eva.”

Anxiety rolls through me. “Why? What’s going to happen to me?”

He jerks his head back. “Nothing. I want you to be healthy. I don’t need you starving yourself in here for no good reason. You don’t like the Cuban sandwich… I’ll get you something else.”

My stomach growls as I peer down at the giant meal begging to be eaten. I lick my lips, dying to take a bite. My hands instinctively move to the sandwich, picking it up. A sliver of mustard slides down my pinky, but it doesn’t bother me as I bite down right where Nycto took the first bite. I don’t even care about our mouths practically having touched by proxy right now.

The ham, pork, and swiss cheese taste like heaven. As I chew, the tang of a pickle tingles on my taste buds.

Nycto smiles. “There… wasn’t so hard, was it?”

I swallow, then take another bite right away. I didn’t realize how hungry I am. “This is delicious,” I mumble with my mouth completely full. Crumbs of Cuban bread fall from the corners of my mouth as I talk.

Nycto truly has the face of an angel but the aura of the devil himself. His lips push up in the corner, scrunching one eye, making the brown glisten in an even more attractive way. His lips part slightly—it’s seductive, a little arrogant like a true Casanova. “Trixie’s training at culinary school. So, we get all her fancy dishes here. Not that a Cuban sandwich is fancy, but she knows how to make them real good.”

Tensing a little, I can’t help but wonder