112-EPILOGUE-XAVER

**XAVER**

**A little over a year later...**

I turn on the lamp near their cribs. Both are up, babbling as usual. They may take after their mother in talking, but they are all me when it comes to getting what they want. Pippa and I don’t spoil them though. We give them love and plenty of attention and when they get older, they will have to work for their desires.

Their grandparents, on the other hand…

The last time Pippa’s parents were here, they held the kids like precious dolls. I don’t think their little feet touched the floor for two weeks.

My parents are even worse.

I finally had to lay down the law with Pops. I told him no more “ride the donkey”. Those little scamps were always clamoring for me to do the same as Gramps. After dealing with asses at the office, they can’t expect me to get on all fours and act like one at home.

Well… not too often.

“Are you two ready to start the day?” I ask, lifting my girl and then my little man from his crib, one in each arm.

“Xaver,” Pippa says, stifling a yawn as she comes into the nursery. “I said I would dress them for your parents. You didn’t have to get up early.”

Jada stays in my arms, grinning at her mother while Jaden, arms outstretched, reaches for her. I hand him over and he clings to her like a vine on a fence.

I lean down to plant a kiss on Pippa’s saucy lips. “I wanted you to sleep in. You have a *long and hard* day ahead of you, Mrs. Sayle.”

“Xaver!” she says, looking nervously at one child and then the other to see if they deciphered, in their year-old brains, that I was sexing up their mother.

She really is too funny sometimes.

***

Pippa comes into my office. The scent of roast follows her from the kitchen.

“Yeah, Ma,” I say, adjusting the phone at my ear. “Just don’t keep them up too late, and no sugar.”

Jada and Jaden are at my parents’ house. We dropped them off in the morning while my wife and I went our separate ways.

I went to my therapy session. Speaking to a professional about my anger has taught me to overcome my deep rooted fear of failure. It has taught me how to appreciate my family and my success and deal with the problems I may encounter by talking to those that love me.

And Pippa went to her class on campus. She is studying to get her degree in business management. She wants the paper to prove she can do it, but she doesn’t need it to impress *me.*

The coffee shop is a success. Place makes money hand over fist.

I am so damn proud of her.

And I plan to show her over and over for as long as we live.

It is a good thing that Alfonso is on a stay-over date, and Mrs. Lettner is at her daughter’s house.

We have the whole weekend to ourselves.

It is time to break in the guest bedroom. We have fucked in every room except there.

Dinner can wait.

It seems my missus has the same idea. She tells me so when I hang up with Ma.

“The meat needs to set for a few minutes. Do you want to—“

I am on her before she can finish, snapping her head back with my hand in her curls, nipping at her delicate throat.

She breaks my hold, with a sweet giggle she runs from the room and down the hall. I chase after her, my fingers itching to be inside her.

They will have to wait.

My dick has first dibs.

She jumps on the bed. I jump on her.

“The cover! “she squeals.

“Fuck it,” I growl. “I am not letting you up until I make you come at least twice.” At the lust in her eyes, I amend that statement. “Hell, at least three times.”

She wiggles under my straining dick. “You had better not curse in front of the kids, Xaver Sayle or— "

I grind my aching cock into her clothed mound. “Shut up. You know you like it.”

“Yes,” she admits without hesitation. “But only when you fuck me.”

In the next thirty seconds, our clothes are off and scattered on the floor.

Looking into those browns, I enter her slowly. Inch by inch. Savoring how her tight pussy sucks me in. I groan at the deepness my dick hits without fail.

We don’t go at it like we used to. We make love… a lot, because we’re deeply in love. We also do the cuddling and the spooning and saying words with our eyes rather than our mouths.

But when we do fuck…

Damn!

The experience is never short of amazing.

I go out as slowly as I came in. She shutters her lids.

“Don’t, Pi. Don’t. I want to look into those browns when you come.”

They pop open. Wide and giving. No longer sad. No longer angry. They are full of me and my love for her.

It gets me going. Makes my blood run hot.

I want to go slow. I want to take my time… then I realize—we have all night and most of the morning.

I pick up the pace.

In a push-up stance, I lock eyes with my beautiful wife as my hips pound against hers.

“Fuuuck,” I say, the word coming out gritty and raw, as if dipped in corrosive acid.

We are metal against velvet. Steel against silk.

Through her strength and resolve, Pippa has taken a cold bastard like me and made him warm. She has changed me from a man who didn’t care into a man who loves so deeply, so unconditionally, so thoroughly, that he sees the beauty in everything.

And fuck if I don’t love her for it.

***

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