“Daddy,” June says, and we both whip our heads to the side. “Smoochy kiss.” “Oh, no, June Bug,” Dallas says hurriedly. He tries to get off me now, but my leg is hooked around his thigh and his hand is tangled in one of my braids. “We’re not—” “Mae Mae is hurt,” she says with the stomp of her foot. “Kiss and make it better.” “She’s not going to stop,” he mumbles. “Maybe I should just…” I nod, vaguely aware of my surroundings. I bite my bottom lip as our eyes meet. “It’s okay. You, uh, can.” His attention moves to my mouth, and he lets out a soft sound that’s reminiscent of a tortured moan.
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