Page 141 of The Fractured


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There was whiskey on his tongue, cologne on his clothes, and a deep hum from his throat that vibrated softly to my lips. He pulled me closer.

The drunk protested — something along the lines of “hey, fuck off, I was here first” — but was cut off when Dean pressed his palm to the man’s face and pushed him away. All while still kissing me.

It was a kiss not meant for public display, but neither of us cared.

He broke first, but only to let us take a breath, and took my chin under his thumb as he lifted his mask a little more. A devilish smile was already on his lips. “Is this the part where I growl and call you mine?”

My knees went weak as I smiled at him, biting the corner of my lip. “You’ve been reading some of my books, hm?”

He used his thumb to tidy my smudged lipstick. “Just the parts you’ve annotated the most.”

The rest of the night was a happy blur, mostly because of how much we had to drink and how little we paid attention to anything else outside of us.

I vaguely remembered doing shots and possibly licking spilled alcohol from Dean’s throat. I also lost my headpiece somewhere in the crowd. And in the car ride home, Dean couldn’t keep his hands off me. Then again, neither could I with him.

His mask was off, and his black hair unruly. There was also smudged lipstick on his jaw and mouth from me.

“Whoops,” I grinned, trying to wipe it off before he kissed me again. This was before we arrived at the apartment. The Uber driver waited patiently for us to clamber from the car, and then we made our way up to our door, staggering a little, trying to act sober and failing miserably.

“I think,” Kira said a tad loudly, carrying her shoes as we walked the long hall to the apartment, “we should have a nightcap.”

“Shhh. Don’t want to wakeThe Neighbor,” I whispered with a wide-eyed nod in the direction of Susan’s door.

Dean wrapped his arms around my shoulders from behind. “You sure? I kinda wanna have a chat with her.”

I playfully slapped his forearm, and he unraveled both, but not before kissing me on the cheek and walking ahead to lean beside our door. Somehow, despite drinking as much as we had, Dean seemed the most sober — well, apart from the glazed look in his dilated eyes and the nonchalance in his movements.

It was the most I had seen him smile.

God, he has a lovely smile.

Seb rubbed his stomach, rolling his head back. “I want food. Do you girls have food?”

“All the food!” Kira exclaimed.

“Shhh!” I laughed, fishing out my keys as we reached the door.

Once that door was open, Seb jogged ahead to raid the pantry with Kira in tow. I stopped at the kitchen counter, setting my bag down as our friends pulled snack after snack from the shelves. Dean came up behind me with his hand gliding around my waist. Every one of his touches brought a feeling of safety. And even if it was a touch expressing casual appreciation, the alcohol in my system ramped it up to wanting to be careless.

I wanted to peel off every layer of clothing and make drunk love to him, but not in the way I had been doing to cope with trauma. This was different. For the first time in a while, I didn’t feel panicked.

And I somehow had to convey this feeling of want to him without Kira and Seb hearing.

Dean’s mask was still in his hand, so I gently took it and pulled it over my head to provide cover for how red my cheeks were about to get. He watched me with amusement.

I cleared my throat and addressed everyone first.

“I think I might head to bed.” I turned to Dean and continued. “And I want you to…rimuovi il mio...vestiti?Did I say that right?”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up while Kira and Seb laughed in drunk amazement.

“I think I just fell in love with you again.” Dean was thoroughly perplexed but happy as he watched me.

A simultaneous “Awwwww” erupted from Seb and Kira.

I knew my face would be completely red beneath the mask, but I lifted it anyway and spoke softly to Dean. “So?”

“Well, yeah, but only if, you know.” He leaned in and whispered. “Only if you’re comfortable.”