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Grief. It’s a funny and horrible thing. Like your lungs, it expands and contracts.
“Wow! My name and a please. What did I do to deserve this?” Kade runs a thumb over his stubbled cheek, his eyes locked on mine. “I guess you’ve been a good girl.”
“I dare you to spank me, Kade.” A smile overtakes my lips, causing the dimples on my cheeks to form. I tuck a stray strand of frizzy blonde-and-violet hair behind her ear. “Then get over my knees, Lemon. Let me teach you how to be a good girl.”
“Lemon,” he says gently. “Look at me.” I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping that what I’m feeling doesn’t show before I turn my head to him. He shifts his arm under my chest so I’m more supported, the small movement doing nothing to help keep my emotions at bay. “Feel whatever you need to feel. Let me take care of you.”
“Put your ass up for me a bit, Lemon darlin’. I need better access to that dripping pussy.”
“Kade, I’m not a good dancer. You have other options.” He stops and turns to face me. “I don’t want other options.”
“I’d go against all the rules for you, if it makes you smile like that.”
Oh Kade🥹
“You’re not replaceable. You’re remarkable.” She bites her lip at my words but continues to look at me. “Believe me when I say that. There’s a reason you stand out—and it’s not because of your hair and tattoos. It’s because you’re you. I know it may not mean a lot coming from a fuckup like me, but believe it. The people who don’t see that, they’re the replaceable ones.”
“You’re not a fuckup, Kade. You’re human. And you’re not replaceable, either.”
