“Yes!” she says loudly.
I wrap my arm around her waist and surge inside her. She takes me, all of me, and she gasps as I sink balls-deep. Her warm heat wraps around me and holds me, snug and tight.
“Damn, this feels good,” I say. I palm her breasts, hefting the gentle weight of them in my hands, and draw her nipples into sharp points with elongated pulls of my thumb and forefinger. “What can I do to make you feel good?”
She takes one hand from her boob and moves it down to her lower lips, and I slide my fingers against her slick skin. She’s slippery-sweet and wet, and it’s not from the shower. It’s from how much she wants me. This. Us. I find her clit and circle it, trying to be gentle, but she covers my fingers with hers and shows me how rough I should be.
“God, Finny,” I growl close to her ear, and then I draw her earlobe between my teeth. “I can’t wait.”
She cups the back of my neck in her palm. “It’s okay. Come, Tag.”
I pull out of her, her silken heat tempting me to pump back inside, but I can’t. I have to give her pleasure.
I spin her around and push her back against the wall. Then I drop to my knees in front of her, lift one leg over my shoulder, and I lick her wet slit, quickly finding her clit and drawing on it with the suction of my mouth. She lays her head back against the tiles and closes her eyes. Her hips rock in time with my tongue and I know she’s close. I slide two fingers into her silken sheath and she cries out. Her fingers tangle in my hair and she jerks it.
“Sorry,” she says. “You don’t like that, do you?”
I take her hands and bury them in my hair. Show me how much you want me, Finny. Guide me. Love me so I can love you back. She tugs, and I find a rhythm in time with her hands. Her vaginal wall squeezes around my fingers when she comes, and I lick her over and over, her body shuddering and quaking as I wring every drop of her orgasm from her, until she stills and pushes my head away.
“My turn,” I say. I lift her up and she wraps her legs around my hips as I sink inside her. She’s so hot and so sweet, and I know I’m going to shoot my load, so I push her back against the tiles so that I can thrust harder. I need to take her. I need for her to be mine.
“Make me come like this,” she says.
“Tell me how,” I say. I kiss her, covering her cries with my mouth, taking them inside me as fuel.
“Harder, Tag!” she urges. I hook my arms beneath her knees and hold her up so I can pound into her.
“God, you’re so pretty when you come,” I say, just as her eyes flutter closed and her spasms start to milk me. I’m on the edge now. “Can I come inside you? Can I, Finny? Can I come inside you? Please say yes. Oh, God, please say–”
“Yes! Do it, Tag!”
I slam hard into her one last time, and I come deep inside her as her orgasm sucks me deeper, farther, and deeper still, until we can’t join any more completely. Until I can’t do more to fill her up. I have never come so hard, so long, or so powerfully. This woman, she fills me up. And she empties me out. And she makes me whole, while taking a piece of me at the same time. I don’t know how to explain it.
“God, I love you,” I tell her.
She kisses me, and I ease her legs down so that she can stand up.
“I feel weak as water,” she says, giggling nervously.
“Stay there. I’ll clean you up.”
I lather up a washcloth and begin to clean her all over, when she hisses. “Easy,” she warns. “I’m a little sore.” So I take special care to be gentle between her legs.
“Did I hurt you?” I stand up and kiss her.
“No,” she breathes against my lips. “It was perfect.”
I wash my come off of her and clean her up completely, and then I wash myself. I turn off the water and wrap her in a towel, and sling one around my hips.
She turns back the covers on the bed and climbs between the sheets naked, and I slide in behind her, drawing her back so we fit like two spoons in a drawer. “Are you okay?” I kiss her shoulder.
“Yes.” She turns her head and kisses the inside of my upper arm, where her head is resting on it. “I’m okay.”
I yawn and close my eyes, and fall into an immediate and perfect slumber, with the woman I love in my arms.
Finny
When he’s still, I lift up the covers and slide out of bed. I look back when he stirs, and I cover his arm with my hand until he settles again. When he’s quiet, I get up and get dressed, pulling on my pajamas and a robe. Then I put on my slippers and go into the hallway.
I know where Marta and Emilio’s room is, so I go there and knock softly on the door. I know they’re not both asleep because they have two babies with them.
Emilio comes to the door, his hair standing out like a ratty halo around his head. He’s bouncing Benji in his arms. “Hey, Finny,” he says. “Did you need something?”
He steps aside so I can walk past him. “Not really,” I say. The hair on my arms stands up, and I rub up and down them to calm myself. “Is Marta up?”
He shakes his head. “Do you need her?” He tilts his head at me. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I just wanted to talk. That’s all.”
He points to a chair and falls into the one beside me, still bouncing Benji in his arms. “What’s up, Finny?” He stares hard at me. “You better start speaking before I have to go kick that boy’s ass.” He starts to get up, but I rush to sit him back down.
“Tag didn’t do anything,” I tell him. My cheeks flush. “Well, he didn’t do anything bad.”
His brows shoot up. “But…” he prompts.
“But nothing,” I say quietly. I shrug.
“Fuck but nothing,” he barks. “I know you, Finny Vasquez, and I know you have something on your mind, so you might as well spit it out.”
Benji is fussing, so I reach for him and take him into my arms. He immediately settles into me and I hold him close.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Emilio says. “They finally got you.”
I heave a sigh. “Both of them got me, Melio.” I stare down into Benji’s perfect little face. “I am pretty sure I love them.”
He nods. “You got time for your old man to tell you a story?”
“Yes, please.” Benji makes a snuffly little noise as he roots around his pacifier. Melio passes me the bottle he must have been feeding him, and I pop it into his mouth. His rosy red lips close around it and he looks so content. So well cared for. So happy.
“Once upon a time, there was this little birdie named Finny,” he begins. He smiles at me. His eyes go soft. “And she had these perfect feathers, and a perfect beak, and she was smart. She flew all by herself without even needing to hold anyone’s tail feathers. She was always independent, and the daddy bird always worried, because she liked the boy birdies a lot.”
I roll my eyes.
“But the daddy bird, he never worried about the Finny bird. He worried more about all the hearts she broke as she jumped from nest to nest.”
“I don’t think I like this story,” I grouse.
“You see, Finny was afraid to stay in one nest too long, because she thought that getting comfortable would make her nest unstable, and she might fall out.” He slaps his palms together. “Splat! No more Finny.”
“You suck, Emilio.”
“But the daddy bird, he knew it was just fear that kept Finny moving from nest to nest, and that when she found the right one, she would be willing to sit in the nest a little longer. The daddy bird worried about some of his other birdies, but never Finny. She was strong and she was true, and she was as reliable as the day is long.”
His eyes fill up with tears and mine do the same. “You can stop now,” I tease. I wipe my eyes with my sleeve.
He shakes his head. He’s not finished yet, apparently. “So while the daddy bird loved and trusted Finny, he always wanted a little more for her. He wanted her to have a nest of her own, but in order for that to happen, she would have to find another b
ird who would keep her safe from falling.”
“The daddy bird kept her from falling,” I correct.
“But the daddy bird knew he wasn’t quite enough. She needed her own family, and her own birdie to love, and she needed someone to make her feel safe forever.” He slams his hand down on the coffee table. “Bam!” he cries.
Benji and I both jump. “Damn it, I hate it when you do that,” I mumble.
“Bam,” he says again, a little more softly. “She runs into a certain boy birdie, and this boy birdie knocks her directly out of the sky. But just as she’s tumbling to a tragic death, he reaches out to catch her and he keeps her from falling. But Finny…well, she’s slow to trust, so it took some time.”
“Melio,” I mutter.
“Finny is smart and loyal and kind and loving, and she’s all the things a daddy bird could ever want in a baby bird. And I’m damn happy you found Tag, Finny, because that boy loves you and you need him.” He nods toward Benji in my arms. “And you’ll make one hell of a mother.” He looks at Benji. “You’d do anything to keep that little guy from falling.”
A hot tear slides down my cheek. “You think I can do it?”
He nods. “I know you can. And so do you. So get off your ass and get it done.”
I snort out a laugh and sniffle back a tear. “You suck so bad, Melio.”
He holds out his arms. “Here, give me that little one so you can go back and fall in love some more.”
I shake my head. “I think I’ll take him with me, if that’s okay with you.” I look up at him and I see pride in his eyes.
“If you think that’s best,” he says.
“Hey, Melio?”
“Yes, Finny?”
“Did you love me less because I wasn’t yours?”
He shakes his head quickly and barks out a laugh. “You were mine from the minute I laid eyes on you, dummy.” He gets up and kisses the top of my head. “I’m going to bed before the other rugrat wakes up.”
I laugh. “Thanks, Melio,” I say. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Finny.”
I get Benji’s bag and take him and his things with me down the hallway, and let myself into the room.
Tag stirs and looks over. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say. “I wanted to get Benji and bring him in here. You don’t mind, do you?”
He smiles into his pillow. “Mind? I love it.”
He gets up and helps me set up a portable crib for him, and we slide it into the open walk-in closet space. I pull the door almost closed so I’ll still be able to hear him, and I can almost see him. He’ll sleep for a couple of hours now, I think.
“Thank you for going and getting him,” Tag says. He surprises me when he pulls my pajama top over my head and shoves my pajama pants down to my ankles. I step out of them.
“I’m guessing you want me naked, huh?”
He grins and pulls me back to bed with him, spooning us together again. I feel him pressed hard against my backside, and he nudges and slips inside me.
“We have a baby very close by,” I remind him. But I’m already arching, trying to take him deeper.
“There won’t be a time when there’s not a baby very close by, Finny,” he informs me. He shoves the covers down and rubs a circle right in the center of my ass cheek. Then he lifts his hand and slaps me.
“Did you seriously just hit me?”
“Yep.”
I laugh. “You got some balls,” I whisper.
“Almost as big as yours,” he replies. “I love you, Finny.” He pulls out of me and rolls me to my back. He slides inside me, pressing so deep that he pushes me forward in the bed.
“I love you too,” I say on a moan, because he feels just right inside me.
Sated, we’re still sticky with sweat when we hear Benji wake up. He starts to fuss, so Tag gets up and brings him to bed to lie between us for a while. I play with his feet and he kicks his little toes. “He’s so perfect,” I breathe.
“So are you,” Tag says.
He leans over Benji and kisses me, and nothing ever felt quite so right.
Epilogue
Tag
Finny jumps into her jeans, tugging them by the waistband as she hops into them. “If you don’t get moving, I’m going without you,” she warns. She glares at me, but her eyes are still hot from what we were just doing. She tips her wrist to look down at her watch. “I told Lark I’d be there five minutes ago.”
I prop my head up in my palm and look at her. “Tell me again why we’re going to the tattoo shop?”
“Because I’m going to have ‘Tag is a horny asshole’ tattooed on my ass,” she tosses back. She rolls her eyes and shoves my arm so that my head falls. “Get up!” she barks.
I really can’t help that I’m making her late. It’s not often that we have someone watching Benji during the day. We both had the day off today, so Marta volunteered to watch Benji for us. Then one thing led to another, and we ended up in bed the whole morning. She just remembered she promised to go with Lark to the tattoo shop.
I grin at her, but I get up to start getting dressed. “Did you tell me why we’re going? Or did I miss that part when you were stripping my clothes off?”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t tell you. It’s not my secret to tell. It’s Lark’s.”
Okay, now I’m really curious. “But–”
She points her cute little finger at me. “If you’re not dressed in two minutes, I’m kicking you in the nuts.”
I laugh, but now I know she’s serious, so I finish getting dressed and brush my teeth and hair. I try to tame my cowlick, but Finny doesn’t seem to mind it. I vaguely remember her holding on tightly to that lock of hair this morning while I ate her out. She has a thing for pulling my hair. I don’t mind, because I have a thing for smacking her ass.
She also has a thing for loving me, and I don’t mind that either.
I don’t know where I’d be right now if I hadn’t met her. I was pretty lost when I came to town a few months ago, and I fell right into her bed, and she fell into my heart and into my mind. She burrowed right down in my soul and I don’t want to ever let her up for air.
Last night, I woke up to find her side of the bed empty. I went to look for her to be sure she was okay, and I found her standing beside Benji’s crib, watching him sleep. She had her hand on his back and she was counting the number of times his chest went up and down.
I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her. She leaned into me the way she always does, and rested the back of her head on my chest. “This is what falling feels like,” she said to me. Then she turned in my arms and kissed me, and I agreed with her. It’s like falling over and over, every single day.
For Finny, falling has turned into a good memory, and we make a new one each day. Every time I see her, I fall over and over. If anyone had told me I’d choose to fall on purpose, I’d have called him crazy.
Finny has become a mother to my son. She’s agreed to be my wife, although we still haven’t set a date yet. She’s my everything. With her and Benji, I can do anything.
I’ve been working for the Reeds managing their apartment building, and we moved into an apartment there a couple of months ago. We have our own space, and we love having other people with kids nearby. There’s always one or another of the Reeds around, or their offspring, or their wives. Life around here isn’t boring, that’s for sure.
I walk into the living room, and find Finny standing with the front door open and she’s waving me forward. “Your nuts are in so much trouble,” she mutters at me as I walk by her.
I grab her and pull her against me. “You know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me,” I say. I kiss her and she melts against me.
Her hand inches down to my waistband, and then I feel her grab my balls. I freeze. She squeezes a little too hard for comfort. “Finny,” I warn.
“I do love you, but I hate to be late,” she says, her lips still touching mine. Her grip
turns to a caress, and I pull back as soon as she sets me free. One, because I’m getting hard again. And two, because she’s in a mood.
She turns to walk in front of me, so I slap her ass hard enough to make her yelp. “Teach you to fake harming my family jewels,” I mutter at her. I adjust my junk and get in the elevator with her. She glares at me from the opposite wall, but there’s a smile behind her eyes. And heat. And love. Always love.
“Did you talk to Julia last night?” she asks as we step out onto the street.
I nod. “I did.”
“And?”
“And what?” I jam my hands into my pockets.
“And you had better tell me what she had to say,” she snaps at me.
I grin. “She said she’s coming over this weekend. She wants to take him to the park.”
Julia called us when Benji was about two months old. She wanted to see him, and I was completely against it. But Finny talked to her, and she felt like Julia was sincere in her desire to be a part of Benji’s life. She doesn’t want custody, and she doesn’t want to even take him for a night here and there, but she does want to see photos and she wants to visit him whenever we’ll allow her to. This weekend, she’s going to take him to the park for a few hours.
Finny rubs my arm. “He’ll be fine,” she says. “Kids need their parents’ love.” She looks sad all of a sudden. “Trust me.”
She hasn’t seen her own mother in a month. Every time she visited, the violence escalated. It wasn’t just against her; it was against everyone. They’re trying new meds, and it’s helping somewhat, but Finny isn’t going back until she can do so safely. Or at least I hope she’s not. I’d love for her mother to get better, just for Finny’s sake, but I’m not sure it’s going to happen.
Finny did decide to go to counseling, though, and she’s dealing with the memories of her mother, and the future with her mother, the best way she knows how.
Lark is standing on the sidewalk glaring at us when we come around the corner. “You’re late,” she says.
Finny jerks a thumb in my direction. “Blame Tag. He’s insatiable.”