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Bad Bad Girl

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Sara crumpled to the floor and looked up at Coley in disbelief. “Fuck you!” she screamed.

Coley mimicked one of Sara’s classic prissy smiles. “Tisk, tisk. Such language from a lady.” Coley spun on her heels to find Vance.

The fight was over, and even though Coley had lost control, she felt great. She might not have appeared soft, submissive or feminine in the slightest. But it was about time Sara got taught a thing or two.

She walked up to Vance who quickly wrapped his arms around her. “Sweetheart, are you all right?” He pulled away and reached for her hand that had punched Sara. “Let me see your hand. Does it hurt?”

“Yes, but I don’t think it’s broken or anything.”

Vance examined her hand with a frown on his face.

“Am I in trouble?” Coley asked.

Vance smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “Not at all. I’m proud of you. Sara had it coming, and she messed with the wrong woman when it came to you.”

Caine approached her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m not happy.”

Coley looked smugly at her brother. “Too bad. Vance said I’m not in trouble and since he’s Head of Household, there’s nothing you can do,” she teased. She liked that she could hold the DD lifestyle over his head for a change.

Caine frowned. “Yeah, well, you better put some ice on that hand of yours.” Caine kissed her forehead and made his way to the kitchen where Neely was no doubt already getting the ice pack ready.

“Do you still love me? Even when I don’t act soft and feminine?” Coley asked as she raised on her tip toes so she could place small kisses on Vance’s face.

“I love you even more. Coley, I have always loved your temper, your fire and that extra zest that makes you who you are. My challenge is making sure you always respect and—”

“Obey you,” Coley interrupted with a giggle.

Vance chuckled. “I guess so.” He kissed her tenderly before adding, “And my challenge is to make you always love me like you do right now.”

Coley wrapped her arms around his neck. “I do, Vance. I love you more than I even thought possible.”

They pressed their lips together in a loving kiss as Coley continued to murmur, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” She knew she would continue to say those words every day of her life. They felt right, they felt good. “I love you…”

The End

Traditional Change

Traditional Love, Book Three

39

Rebecca Hadley looked at the ceiling from her position in the center of the bed and imagined all of the air seeping from her lungs. She pictured her breath floating up into the faded white popcorn texture, filling the gaps and softening the lines until her heart stopped and she drifted off into darkness. The image of her ex-husband, Andrew, coming over to the apartment and finding her motionless body flattened over the bedspread didn’t stir any feelings of joy or amusement, and there was no satisfaction involved with the vengeful thought, either. The truth of the matter was, he probably wouldn’t care.

One year after their divorce, and Andrew had clearly moved on. Moved on with a petite blonde who had lived three doors down and had an obnoxious poodle she walked three times a day. The damn mutt would piss on Rebecca’s yard each and every walk without fail. Andrew had moved on—so much so that he was now married with a baby on the way. A child he had always wanted, and one that Rebecca could never give him. Yes, he had moved on, leaving her behind, staring at her small apartment’s ceiling.

Rebecca sighed heavily and dropped an arm over her eyes. The last week had been miserable, and she couldn’t seem to shake the darkness dragging along behind her. Work had been oppressive in new and creative ways, testing the limits of what a woman could and should take. She had accepted a job working in the supply room of a large business office because she’d believed it would include very little interaction and a lot of quiet alone time.

She’d been completely wrong on both counts.

All day it was the same thing at work. One employee after the next would come barging in, desperate for vital equipment and frustrated that it took a minute to fetch it. Items like staples, or rubber cement, or a particular form the company used. These seemingly unexciting items could cause full grown adults to shake and cuss like toddlers with Tourette’s. Most days the behavior was received with a smattering of humorous irony. The last week had been full of men and women who behaved as though they were in danger of collapsing if they didn’t get a bottle of corrective paint, or a new roll of invisible tape. Normally, Rebecca’s week was pretty quiet, but the last several days had seen her going home feeling exhausted, overwhelmed, and questioning whether she would even go back the next day.


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