by Vivian Arend
“We wanted to.”
She wiggled and this time he released her. “Yeah, well, want and should aren’t the same thing.”
“You want to have a baby by yourself. Should you?”
Ice replaced the lingering heat in her veins. “That’s not fair.”
“My point exactly.”
She looked away as Max adjusted his erection, stifling the impulse to offer to help him out. No matter how pissed off his final words made her, the desire to caress his naked skin under her fingers remained. He’d lit a fire inside and one orgasm wasn’t enough to satisfy it. His hand touched her arm and tugged her to face him. A gentle touch under her chin brought their gazes back in line and he smiled. One part trouble, three parts sin.
“I wanted to prove that we are attracted to each other no matter how much you’ve denied it. You’re right—it’s not enough to build a relationship on, but it’s not a bad place to start.”
All the fight faded from her. Between last night and this morning, between her rickety future plans and her dismal past agendas, she had nothing left inside right now.
“This was not how I imagined spending today,” she admitted.
The cheeky grin she’d seen so often at Turner family events broke across his face. “I had planned on joining a gaming marathon, but this is far more exciting.”
She wanted to roll her eyes. Him and his damn computers. “Sorry to have dragged you away from world domination.”
“You know the Turners. There’ll be another chance to play soon enough.”
Max released his hold on her arm and retreated slowly. Cool air wafted between them and chilled her body. Something inside her heart ached as well. She wasn’t supposed to want another person to keep her warm. She’d thought she was past that.
Tasha glanced outside at her future backyard. The clearing crew had managed to leave the big oak tree like she’d requested. One limb stretched horizontally, perfect for a tire swing down the road. It would be somewhere safe for a child to play while she watched out the window, or while she pushed them. Suddenly some of the murky details in the fantasy she’d been dreaming filled in. A child with dark hair, red highlights shining in the sun, and a mischievous smile. She caught her breath at the image of child like Max.
Her mind spun. Again, it was too much, too soon.
Max coughed. She turned to find he’d crossed the room. He stood beside the front door, holding it open. She moved slowly to join him and they made their way back to his car in silence. Her brain was far too full of chaos to be able to speak rationally, and small talk would have been inappropriate.
He drove her home, the radio providing a blur of background noise to the thirty-minute ride between her new house in Frazer and her apartment in Thompson. The lack of sleep, the alcohol and the stress wrapped together, and she gave up any attempt at being polite. She stared out the window, nothing concrete in her mind except the dire need to crawl into bed and hibernate for days.
All the way from the parking lot to the door of her apartment he paced beside her, shortening his long stride to accommodate hers. When she paused in her doorway to speak he pressed a finger to her lips.
“You’re tired and still hungover. Go to bed. Think about this when you’re fresh.”
Max placed the folder in her hand, and reached for her, and she held her breath. She didn’t know what she’d do if he kissed her again. Something in her face must have warned him she was ready to crack and he froze. He cleared his throat and took a shaky breath before heading back to the elevator silently.
It was all she could do to make it to her bed and collapse, fully clothed. She tossed the file on her bedside table where it haunted her for the two minutes it took until she fell asleep.
Maxwell leaned back in his car seat and adjusted himself again. If he hadn’t already earned sainthood status, he was well on the way. Fuck, kissing Tasha, touching her, bringing her to a climax, all of it had exceeded his expectations, and he’d had plenty. After years of sexual fantasies about the woman, this morning he’d been tempted to drag her to the floor and let her ride him.
He reached down and slid the seat farther back to wrangle more room. Shit, he was dying. He’d been hard off and on since last night when he’d discovered what he’d pictured in his brain wasn’t far off the mark. From the moment she’d shocked the hell out of him by pulling off her dress, he couldn’t look away. Her breasts overflowed the skimpy cups of her bra, and he’d thought she’d skipped wearing panties altogether. It wasn’t until she’d crawled into his arms that the tiny scrap of fabric pretending to be a thong became apparent. He’d had the warm, silky skin of her ass in his hands, her arms draped around his neck as she pressed his face between her breasts.
“Bloody hell. Fuck!” He swore a blue streak, flipped the radio to the dirtiest, raunchiest station he could find and cranked up the volume until the walls of the car pulsed around him.
Max thumped his cock hard, rubbing at the front of his jeans in an attempt to ease the pain. When she’d told him she was horny? That moment hadn’t been the worst. Struggling to untangle himself and cover her up when what he wanted more than his next breath was to rip open his zipper and slam his cock into her as deep as possible—that had been far easier than the demons he had to fight when they reached her room.
She’d told him everything. In the space of fifteen minutes between unlocking her door and carrying her nearly naked body to her bed—and didn’t that part make his nuts draw into tight little rocks at the memory—she never stopped talking. About what assholes her previous boyfriends had been. How they sucked in bed, and she got more pleasure from her fingers most of the time. How she yearned for a baby.
How incredible he smelled and did he want to make her feel good? She could go for a good, hard fuck.
Max smashed his fist into the steering wheel and ground his teeth together. Replaying in detail every second of last night wasn’t helping. He’d gone home and jerked off, frantic to get relief, and it still hadn’t worked. In the sleepless hours that followed, he’d put together his proposal.
He slammed his car into gear and headed home, careful to set the cruise control because in his current state of mind he was ripe to be pulled over for reckless driving. He’d wanted Tasha forever, and he swore they’d be good together, but would she be willing to admit it? She was almost as stubborn as he was, and she’d always, always pushed him away. Made him walk the line as a friend and nothing more.
Thank God they’d had the time over at the house. His mouth watered at the memory of her lips under his, her nails scraping down his back. He wanted to be naked, buried deep in her body and have her mark him then. He needed to listen to her moans as she approached climax.
Ahhh, shit. He needed a fucking cold shower.
Tasha would probably sleep like a log for most of the day. Then she’d stew and consider his offer from fifteen different angles before coming to a conclusion. He certainly intended on providing the guidance needed to push that decision in the right direction. Still, he couldn’t do anything more today. Maxwell turned down the long driveway to his house with a heavy heart and a raging hard-on.
Right now, he hated waiting with a vengeance.
Chapter Four
His sister’s car sat beside his house and Max swore. He didn’t want to have to be polite and have a social visit with anyone, not even if he and his twin got along like gangbusters. He took another minute in an attempt to relax enough to walk the stairs without it being obvious he had the hard-on from hell.
He hadn’t expected to see Maxine today. She waited for him on the front steps, a wistful expression on her face.
“Hey, Maxy, what’s happening?”
She shrugged. “I’m supposed to go meet Mom and some of the aunties for a late lunch. Can I kill a little time with you?”
This was not what he’d been hoping for, with images of Tasha still filling his brain. Of course, whacking off in the shower didn’t seem to help much. After getting
a taste of reality, he was sick of using his imagination to be with Tasha. But how was he supposed to put his sister off when he’d always made time for her before?
“Course you can stay for a visit. Why didn’t you wait inside?”
“It’s too nice a day.”
He forced a laugh, accepting her hug carefully, his hips twisted away so there wouldn’t be the slightest chance she noticed anything. Together they stepped into the small cottage he owned that sat at the back of one of the estate homes. Maxine went to grab drinks while he wandered over to open the French doors to the deck. Years ago the cottage had been the gardener’s living quarters. It was small, easy to keep tidy, and more than enough room for one person. It had been perfect when he’d returned from college and announced he wasn’t going to live at home anymore. He still remembered how much his parents had balked at the idea—they’d had troubles accepting that he’d finished high school at an accelerated rate. Him being back from college at seventeen? That wasn’t the norm for many kids to be done with school and wanting their independence, but Max had insisted. He had his own business; he had the money he needed. He was vocal enough and strong willed, and it wasn’t often he didn’t get his way.
Except, up to now, with Tasha.
Distraction. That’s what he needed. Maybe the fact Maxine was here would give him something else to think about other than the taste of Natasha’s lips under his, and the sounds she’d made when she climaxed.
Ah man…he needed to keep his thoughts on other things. Safe things, the kind he could talk about with his sister. He scrambled mentally for a second, then glanced over to make sure Maxine was listening. “I’ve got another client lined up for the final test drive of the new software. You interested in taking part in the presentation?”
She spun at the sink and beamed at him. “You serious?”
“Of course. I told you if you got your skills up on code I’d take you on as a partner.”
She handed him a glass of ice tea, even as she shook her head. “No, we’ve been over this before. I can’t be a partner. I’ve got nothing saved up to put into the business. I’m thrilled to work with you, but hire me, okay?”
They moved to sit outside in the old rattan chairs he’d found at a garage sale earlier in the summer. He’d pictured relaxing here with Tasha, the sun setting behind the trees. Damn it, mind on the present. “Yeah, yeah you keep saying that, but I think you’ve got tons to contribute. I loved what you did on the Turner Networking Team website. Very cool graphics on the TNT banner, by the way. How about this? I’ll set you up as a partner based on a buy-in system. As you work projects you’ll get so much in pay and so much in partnership credit. Would that make you feel better?”
Maxine nodded slowly. “Next year when we turn twenty-five, part of the Turner legacy funding will come through, and I can add in whatever the business needs as a full top-up.”
He laughed. “What? You’re actually planning on spending some of the Max money?”
“Goodness knows we deserve it. It would have been bad enough to have the same initials as all your cousins, but the same name?” She grimaced. “Although I’ve very grateful that Mom and Dad came up with decent Max names to meet the requirement of the legacy fund. Auntie Maxamule—I can’t say her name without wanting to giggle.”
“Maximilian is bad as well.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Is it terrible to admit I don’t like our cousin very much?”
Max leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs, letting the sun warm his face. Was Tasha asleep or thinking about his proposal? “He’s a fake, that’s why. You’re too sweet to like someone who’s a phony.”
“I’m not sweet.”
He guffawed. “Yes, you are.”
“I’m not.”
“Are too.”
She narrowed her eyes and he made a face at her. “Oh, you’re so grown-up.”
They smiled at each other, their conversation having digressed back to twin-speak. Max looked his sister over as she sipped her tea. She was sweet, and innocent, and he was glad to be able to work with her. She had a soft heart, and he didn’t mind watching over her, like any good brother would. In a family as big as the Turners, there was something happening all the time, and Maxine was usually right in the middle of it. He’d learned to withdraw a bit from the constant clannish demands, partly because he’d been working for himself since he’d discovered computers. Maxine never seemed to have learned to say no.
He opened his mouth to tell her about Tasha, then took a quick gulp of tea instead. Until he had something concrete to tell, he wasn’t going to share. And until Tasha made a decision, there was nothing to convey.
It felt kind of strange, to keep a secret from Maxine. Not that he told her everything, but they were close. She chatted about something going on with a couple of their younger cousins over the past week, and he nodded and listened as best he could. All the while his thoughts drifted. Back to the soft touch of Tasha’s skin under his fingers when he’d kissed her. To the taste of her lips. He could hardly wait to make love with her.
“What do you think?”
He jerked upright guiltily. “Sorry, Maxy, lost my train of thought for a minute.”
She laughed. “Didn’t get much sleep last night, hey? I heard you ended up driving Cousin Lila and her drinking buddies home. I thought I was the only one sweet enough to get suckered like that.” She batted her eyes and he groaned.
“I didn’t mind.” No, he hadn’t. Hadn’t minded one bit. In terms of charitable acts, it ranked right up there as one of the most self-serving activities he’d ever taken part in.
He sat back and concentrated harder on Maxine. Tasha wouldn’t be calling any time soon, and until tomorrow, his life was in limbo.
There was something hard poking her in the belly, and the most god-awful taste in her mouth. Tasha rolled over, tossed the shoe she’d found to the floor and winced as the sunshine pouring in the window stabbed her in the eyes. Okay, officially not the best way to spend a day. She levered herself vertical, fearful her head would spin, or her stomach.
It was her heart that did back flips when she spotted the file folder on the side table.
Maxwell Junior had proposed to her.
She wasn’t sure which rose faster or higher—confusion or anger. He hadn’t done anything on purpose to upset her, but damn it all, she’d had everything figured out. She was happy with her plan for artificial insemination. All the arguments he’d gone through she’d fought out with herself over the past months. There was no doubt in her mind that she’d be a fabulous mother, and any baby that did come along would be well loved and cared for. Still, she wasn’t about to argue that two good parents couldn’t provide even more, and she loved the thought of having extended family for her child.
But it wasn’t possible. She’d tried the regular route of getting involved with a partner. She’d had no luck finding anyone she wanted to spend a year with, let alone long enough to raise a child.
I like Max.
Her mind darted everywhere. It wasn’t acceptable for him to come in and tear her world apart. Intoxicating kisses and magical orgasms aside, she had to do the right thing for the long run.
She poured herself into the shower and turned the heat up as hot as she could handle. The headache from the previous night’s overindulgence had faded, exchanged for the dull ache of stress. She soaped her body, trying to ignore the tenderness between her legs from where he’d rubbed her to an orgasm. It was too easy to slip her fingers over the sensitive skin and daydream about what Max would do to her when she had her clothes off, his fingers touching her more intimately. Stoking and sliding over her skin…
Dammit, no. She would not fantasize thinking about Maxwell Turner. Tasha forced her hands away from her sex and did the fastest wash ever of her breasts, the tightness of her nipples taunting her.
Even when he was nowhere in the room, Max tormented her.
She dried herself, rough with the towel, then y
anked on track pants and a T-shirt before stomping to the kitchen.
He had proposed to her.
Three glasses of water and an orange juice later, Natasha sat on her balcony in the sun, her eyes closed. Every deep breath she took in she mentally wrapped up one of her concerns and breathed it out. She needed to make a decision, but totally uptight and upset wasn’t the way to go into anything.
She grabbed the notepad from the chair beside her and started another list.
He’d given her three reasons for them to be together. She listed them, neatly, in order. Made two columns to the right of each with room for pros and cons. There was no way to get to the bottom of this without some solid information. Knowing Max, if she phoned him right now he’d insist on far more than a simple yes or no. He’d want to know why.
She laughed in spite of the situation. Yeah, he’d said she knew him better than to simply say he was too young. He hadn’t been too young mentally since fifth grade. The damn man was borderline genius. She couldn’t accuse him of not having thought out all the angles.
Tasha blew out a long slow breath. Fine, then it was only right she do the same thing. She’d gone through this before when she’d made the decision to become a single mom. Once more wouldn’t hurt.
The first item seemed the easiest, and safest, to deal with.
#1. Having a baby w/ Junior
Pros-
The words he’d shouted at her in the house made her smile. Colic and diapers. She had to admit she liked that he wasn’t afraid to speak plainly to her.
She listed points under each category, everything she could think of. She winced as she wrote down financial security. She didn’t like to admit that was one area she’d been the most nervous about regarding being a single mom. Even after getting to the point she had a solid home business, and enough money put away for the immediate future, what if something happened to her? She’d have insurance, but still.
