Page 89 of The Fractured

“Coming, Mom.” I smiled until she left, and then dropped my forehead to Dean’s chest with a groan.

He chuckled and pulled me into a hug, resting his chin on my head. “It’s just for a couple of days. At least until shit cools down.”

“You are severely underestimating my mother’s ability to drive me insane.”

It was hard to focus on the movie when all I could think about was Dean’s hand. Or rather, where it was placed.

We were beside each other on the couch. Dean was sitting casually — completely unaware of what his touch was doing to me — while I had my leg, the one closest to him, tucked up against my body with his arm wrapped around it and his hand placed under my thigh. Every so often, he massaged the spot absentmindedly — an unintentional caress that was creating several intentional thoughts in my head.

I wanted him to slide his hand down to find out what he was doing to me. I wanted him to kiss me against a wall, any wall. I wanted him to spread me beneath him and press his body to mine. I wanted that distraction because that way I wouldn’thave to worry about staying in this house, or wondering if my boyfriend was being tracked by a criminal.

Where we sat on the sofa, in front of the living room window, was a casually strategic choice by Dean. The window behind us faced the street, and there was a small gap between the curtains that provided enough viewing space to peer out into the night.

After looking once more through that gap, he brought his attention back to the living room and caught me watching. He squeezed the underside of my thigh with a question in his eyes.

“I’m a little warm.” I pinched the front of my hoodie and fluffed it out for emphasis, causing a rush of cool air to skim down beneath the thick fabric. It danced along the front of my body and the lingerie beneath, which tickled my skin with the light disturbance.

I’m going to explode.

When Mom stepped into the living room, the feeling waned.

“The guest room is ready for you.” The words were directed more to the room than at Dean.

“Thanks, Mrs. Whitmore.”

I frowned at him, slightly amused by his use of formality, and he shrugged, hiding a smile of his own.

Mom fixed her neat bob with a quick flick of her head. “We also have a curfew, remember?”

How could anyone forget? The 9:30 PM curfew was a strict rule the entire family followed to get a good night’s rest. At least, that’s the excuse Mom made and Dad agreed to in order to control the whereabouts of Jane and me. Even though I no longer lived at home, Mom expected me to continue following that rule while visiting.

“I remember, Mom,” I said.

“Jane, that means you too.”

Jane, sitting in an armchair and tapping away on her phone, rolled her eyes and lazily got to her feet. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

“I’d appreciate it if you dropped the attitude,” Mom said as Jane passed her in the doorway. Her attention then came to Dean and me, and she raised her brow expectantly.

I pressed my lips together as Dean unraveled his arm from around my thigh.

“That’s our cue,” I muttered.

It wasn’t until we were on our feet that Mom left the room and headed upstairs to join Dad.

After flicking off the TV, Dean and I eventually made our way to the stairs but paused at the bottom. With the guest room downstairs and at the back of the house, he wouldn’t be coming up with me.

I stood one step up from the ground level, almost his height, as I shared a small smile with him.

“See you in the morning,” he said quietly as the silence of the house closed in around us.

I hummed, reluctant to move. “Don’t be surprised if my mother has forced me into a chastity belt before then.”

“I can pick a lock.” He winked and made to kiss me. As our lips brushed, the upstairs light went out, blanketing us in darkness. A not-so-subtle hint from my mother, who had been eavesdropping from above.

I exhaled through my nose but brought the subject back to us. Never mind if she was still listening. “You don’t have anything to wear for bed.”

“Wasn’t planning on stayin’ the night, remember?” Dean momentarily looked to the top of the stairs and spoke a little louder. “I’ll have to go full commando.”