I watch as Finn and Memphis carry the couch through the French doors that lead to the back patio of our new home.

It all happened fast. When it came down between two houses—one on the beach and one just outside of the city with ten acres and a barn—I picked the house that wasn’t on the water.

Finn and Noah ganged up on me. They seem to do that a lot lately. Finn says I over-think everything, that being spontaneous once in a while would feel good. Then Finn smiled at me, and God, his smile made me weak, and strong, and so very happy.

“That means four wheelers,” Noah whispered to Finn, and then they fist bumped each other.

A week later, we both put our money together and bought a house. It is in both our names. His and mine. Ours.

With no mortgage, nothing to figure out or plan for, we just need to live and love. That’s what I painted above the brick fireplace in our living room, just above the obnoxious sixty-inch flat screen.

I watch Finn and Memphis set down the first part of the huge U-shaped sectional that will be the center of the room, a place where Noah will grow up listening to music, watching TV, and witnessing the love a real man shows to a woman.

Finn is not just sexy; he is sweet, and he loves me. He. Loves. Me. And I love him.

“Paint’s not good for the baby. Ladders with broken legs are not good for you,” Finn whispers in my ear, taking the brush out of my hand and shakes his head as he grabs the stepladder.

“It’s not broken anymore, remember? Fast healer, cast came off yesterday-”

“Still, you could hurt yourself. No ladder.” He kisses me. When he pulls back I nod agreeing. “Thank you.”

Our little one survived the accident, just like Noah survived ours.

When I told Finn, he said, “Next one isn’t gonna go through that.”

“The next one?”

“We have seven bedrooms, Yaya; we might as well fill them up. We can teach them how to love. Nothing better than love.” He laughed when he said it, and I understood his frustration. We haven’t had sex since before the accident. I have been sick and tired, yet he has been amazingly patient.

“Go relax,” he tells me now. “Read Noah that book, the one about the cat that thinks he’s a dog. It makes him laugh. I kind of love his laugh.”

“You love Noah’s laugh?”

“Yeah, of course I do. I also love when he sleeps so I can have you all to myself.” He kisses me quickly. “Sit, read, and relax.”

“It feels wrong to sit on my butt when you’re doing all the work.”

“You worked all week, so you deserve it. I didn’t do shit but hang out with Noah. Kind of feel like a kept man. I need to do something.”

“You are. You’re teaching Noah how to be a man, and you’re making me fall deeper and deeper in love with you.”

“Well, fuck, I’m gonna need to start wearing a damn cape.”

“Yeah.” I smile and sit down.

***

Finn

Exhausted, I climb the stairs with the little man in my arms. Sonya and he both fell asleep on the new sofa. I sent her up while I locked up and set the alarm system that she insisted on. I do that every night, hoping she falls asleep because making out was great as a teenager, but as a man who has been inside of a woman like her—raw—it’s hell.

I lie Noah down in his room that is directly across from ours and tuck him in. He may have the asshole who came in her first’s coloring, but his smile, his eyes, his heart, they are hers. He is a little man, his own person. He’s been through a lot in his life and he has a lot more to go through. I will do whatever I can to help him get through it all.

I often wondered if he would ever want to call me Dad, introduce me as his Dad. I shake my head and step back, whatever he wants, is his. I smile thinking he already knows that. Tomorrow we are going shopping for four wheelers, while Yaya is at Forever Four working.

I couldn’t wait to tinker in the barn with him, like I had with my Dad. The difference, the woman would be with us, not inside cooking up poison.

“Love you little man,” I whisper it out loud for the first time, because I do, without a doubt.

I turn on his nightlight and close the door behind me. Then I walk across the hall where I find Sonya isn’t in bed. However, I see a light shining underneath the bathroom door and hear the shower running.

I knock once, pushing the door open with my knuckles. “You okay?”

She looks out of the shower and smiles. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course I am, but … Wow, look at those tits.”

She pushes them together. “I need new bras.”

I need my tongue between them, I think as my dick stirs in my pants.

I nod instead of speaking, because nothing sweet will come out.

“I don’t know how long the hot water will last. I think you should get in here if you’re showering tonight.”

“A cold shower sounds good.”

She takes a sponge and squeezes it over her tits, the water falling down on them. “A hot shower sounds better.”

The way she says it, the way she purrs, brings me nearly to my knees.

I pull off my shirt, and she bites her lip. I unbutton my pants, and her knees clench together as her mouth falls open. When I shove them down, she licks her lips. I walk toward her, and she doesn’t step back.

I walk straight into her, my cock rubbing against her stomach, and I groan from the heat of her skin against mine. I reach behind her and grab her neck, pulling her into a kiss. Her hands immediately tangle in my hair, where they always end up. She’s a little less tame, pulls a little harder.

“Sonya,” I groan as my open mouth runs down her jaw and back up. Nipping her ear and reaching between us, I rub my finger between her hot, wet lips, and she pushes into my touch. I push a finger inside her and immediately find what I’m looking for—her G-spot.

“Oh, God,” she moans as she lifts her leg and hooks it around my hip.

“Guess again,” I groan as my mouth runs down her jaw.

“Finn, my Finn.”

I turn her facing the stone shower wall and reach in front of her. I push two fingers in her, and she whimpers as she squeezes my fingers now deep inside. I push her long, brown hair over her shoulder and suck on her flesh. Then I reach around and cup her tit, rubbing my thumb across her peaked nipple, and squeeze as I finger her harder, faster.

“Don’t stop. Oh, Finn, don’t stop,” she pants as she places her hands against the wall, her head hanging down as she rides my fingers.

I release her tit and grab my cock in my hand, rubbing it against her round, little ass. Her back arches, and she spreads wider for me.

She looks over her shoulder. “Please. Please, Finn.”

I take my fingers out, using one to circle her clit as I push into her pussy slowly. I watch my dick enter her, and her back arches more. I grip her ass with one hand and rub my thumb up and down. Her little, pink hole puckers when I touch it. She looks back at me, and I do it again. She doesn’t tell me no, and fuck if I don’t want more of it.

I stick my pinky in my mouth and get it nice and wet. Then I run it over her again and again until she arches her back more and widens her stance. I feed her more of my cock and push my pinky against my new desire. Her body’s movement is accepting, so I push the tip of my pinky inside. She tenses before I thrust my hips forward, almost fully inside as I wiggle my pinky ever so slightly.

I feel her quiver as I move slowly in and out of her. I move slowly, afraid to do it any other way, because I will either come too soon or hurt her.

I keep up the pace and bring her to the edge then slow down, over and over again until she looks back at me.

“Please, Finn. I want to come. Let me come for you.”

“No one else ever again.”

“No one else ever before.”