Defining Darkness - K E Osborn Page 0,25
plenty of women by his side, but none who meant a damn thing to him. None he kept around longer than he deemed necessary.”
“I don’t even know what he wants with me, or if I want anything to do with him.”
“I get it. Nycto’s an asshole at the best of times. Coming into this situation the way you have is scary and very unusual. I’d hate him, too, but sometimes, the best relationships are formed under tense situations. Plus, the sex is off the charts hot.”
My eyes widen as I gasp. “We’re not having sex!”
Trixie laughs. “Not yet.”
My shoulder bumps into hers as I shake my head. “Never. I just… no.”
She waggles her eyebrows at me. “That flush on your face makes me think you’ve at least thought about it.”
“Stop! He stole me. He’s keeping me captive. There’s no way I am ever sleeping with Nycto.”
Trixie purses her lips. “Okay… but in the meantime, you have the books to satisfy your… needs.”
My eyes widen as I take in the half-naked man on one of the front covers. “Not that I’m a prude, but there’s no way in hell I’m… um… taking care of myself in Nycto’s room.”
Trixie leans past me pointing to a book with a cognac glass and a pearl style necklace on the cover. “This one might change your mind.” She winks at me, standing from the bed. “Chapter fourteen. Trust me… you’ll enjoy it.”
I scrunch up my face turning the book over, sliding it away from me.
Trixie laughs as she heads for the door. “Nycto won’t be back for a while. You have hours to yourself. Just sayin’.” She knocks on the door. It clicks and opens. “Honestly, Eva, just let yourself enjoy your time here. Otherwise, you’ll drive yourself crazy.”
Trixie moves to walk out, but anxiety floods me at the thought of being left alone again. “Trixie!” She turns back to face me. “Thanks for coming to see me… will you come back?”
Her face lights up. “Definitely. Read the book, Eva.”
Rolling my eyes at her, she giggles as she closes the door behind her, and I’m left alone in the red-toned room again.
I flop down on the bed.
My eyes slowly shift to the books on the bed. My jaw wracks from side to side as I debate whether to pick one of them up or not. Gulping a lump down my throat, I pick up the one with the half-naked man. He has abs on his abs. I bet Nycto has the same physique. Shaking my head from those thoughts, I quickly place that book back down. My eyes shift to the raunchy book which is face down on the bed like it has been banished to the naughty corner. Gnawing on my bottom lip, I pick it up, reading the blurb. It details a mafia kingpin forced into an arranged marriage to a woman who wants to join a convent rather than be a mafia queen. It’s piqued my interest enough for me to open and take a peek.
Shifting up Nycto’s bed, I gather the pillows around me, getting comfortable in my reading position, opening to the prologue and beginning.
My eyes widen as the antihero savagely tortures and kills a man in the most brutal of ways. I cringe, I gasp, but most of all, I love how intensely the book has drawn me in within the first few pages.
The antihero meets the heroine, who kind of remind me of Nycto and myself. The feisty female who doesn’t want anything to do with him but is attracted anyway—the broody, broken, hot-as-sin guy, who harbors demons and makes all the wrong decisions for the right reasons. I can’t help but find myself picturing Nycto as the antihero and myself as the heroine.
When he speaks, it’s Nycto.
When she speaks, it’s me.
I’m soon lost in a fantasy playing out in my mind of Nycto and I finding our way together in a world full of carnage and chaos. As I rush through the pages, their chemistry is electrifying. My breath catches at the way he fights wanting to be with her, and how she struggles to see the good in him, even though he’s putting his bad traits aside for her.
They’re meant to be, and I’m only up to chapter thirteen. My heart pounds as they tear into each other, a fight of epic proportions. My adrenaline is climbing as I turn the page, desperate to find out what happens next. She screams telling him she hates him—it