Page 87 of Fractured Fear

What. Do. I. Fucking. Wear. To. Bed? Nightie, shorts and a tank, or an oversized tee? When did picking out what to wear to bed become so hard?

When the sexy ass men decided they’d stay for a sleepover.

The plain nightie says “I want sex” which I don’t. I think. The shorts and tank are safe, but I hate wearing pants to bed. The oversized tee would cover my ass so I could go sans pants, and I could wear granny panties to deter their mischievous side.

Who am I kidding? Nothing would deter these headstrong men. Maybe I need a chastity belt.

Fuck it. Oversized tee paired with granny panties it is. Or…I reach for my favorite black lace thong.

Dressed and ready for bed I gather my courage, ready to rip off the band aid. Stepping into my bedroom I’m taken aback. I was prepared for one sexy shirtless man. Not two.

Rio now sits on my bed with Zane. Shirtless, basketball shorts, and his tattoos in full view. They don’t notice me, so I take the opportunity to drink them in.

Rio’s tattoos are a work of art. They flow across his skin beautifully. Amongst all the ink I’m able to make out a devil with a pitchfork on Rio’s ribs. His eyes promise death and destruction, making me shiver. I also spot a portrait of a young girl on his bicep. There’s some script as well, but I can’t make out the words.

Zane has discarded his book and glasses on my nightstand. I wish he’d put them back on. I’m a glutton for punishment.

Their heads are bent together as they talk in hushed voices amongst themselves. I catch a few words.

Cain. Kidnap. Hunt. Kill.

The last word causes a chill to erupt over my skin.

Making myself known I ask, “What are you two gentlemen talking about?” Immediately they both go silent and eye my chosen attire.

Rio ignores my question. “Let's get this slumber party going!”

“Maybe we should discuss sleeping arrangements,” I suggest, not wanting them to get the wrong idea. I need my bed to myselfin order to get quality sleep. I have a blow up bed they can use and my couch is comfortable.

“I agree,” Rio says. “Z, which side of the bed do you prefer?”

Zane looks like he’s actually mulling over Rio’s question. “Window.”

“Sweet that leaves me by the door and Spencer smack dab in the middle.”

“Ha ha. Very funny,” I deadpan. “Seriously. I have sheets and blankets in the hall closet you can use?—”

My hospitality speech is cut short when Rio interrupts. “We’re sleeping right here with you, Mama.En serio.”

“No. I need my room empty of people, and I roll around a lot. I didn’t ask for this sleepover, so y’all can deal with finding another room to crash in.”

“We’re not moving,” Zane argues.

“I can’t sleep with you two in my room!”

They glance at each other, both wearing a knowing smirk like they are secretly sharing a joke I’m not privy to.

I sigh and turn to make my way to the couch. They can share my queen size mattress and I’ll get cozy out there. Before I can reach the door, I’m thrown over a shoulder. By the sweatpants and ass that meets my face, I know it’s Zane.

What is with him and carting me around like a sack of potatoes?

“Really, Zane? Hauling me around like this is not the solution to everything.” Zane says nothing, and I hear Rio chuckle. I’m deposited on my bed and a pair of inked arms wrap around my middle dragging me backwards. I try to push Rio away, but he tightens his grip.

These. Damn. Men.

Without speaking, Zane lays on the bed next to me and throws a blanket over us. Then he switches off the lamp, coating the room in complete darkness, and falls onto his back.

Rio wraps himself around me from behind in a huge bear hug as I lay on my side facing the window. I bask in his warmth and his breath on my neck. I’ve never cuddled like this before, and I can’t say I hate it especially when it makes me feel secure. Safe. Ready to battle the demented shit my subconscious will no doubt conjure up.

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