by Vivian Arend
He dropped the notepad to the side, his eyes hungrily tracing her face as he grabbed her hand. “I broke the speed limit. By a lot.”
She chewed on her lower lip. All the confidence she’d had back at the house when she’d told him she wanted to speak with him seemed to have escaped, fleeing into the night. “That’s not very responsible of you.”
“I’ll be responsible from here on, but if I didn’t hear you actually say it, I was going to go insane. Are you accepting my offer? Will you marry me?”
She pulled her hand from his and nodded slowly, reaching for the notepad. “Yes, but with a few conditions.”
Maxwell stiffened slightly. “What kind of conditions?”
“If you’re worried about not getting sex, that’s not it,” she joked, desperately trying to lighten the mood. She was one step away from freaking out as it was.
He rose to his feet in one motion. “This isn’t a gag, Tasha. Yes, I want to have sex with you, but I’ve damn well offered my life to you and this baby. I’m giving you everything I can think of that’s important to me, so I’d appreciate a little mutual respect. This isn’t about simply wanting to get into your pants.”
Shit. She popped up after him, shaking her head rapidly. “Damn it, that’s not what I meant.”
“But that’s what you said. That’s all I’ve got to go on.” He dragged a hand through his hair before pulling to a stop. “I’m sorry, I’m more on edge than I thought. You don’t deserve to be shouted at.”
She held the notepad to him. “If you’d give me a second I can explain. The only conditions involve us as a couple.”
He took the paper and rotated it to read. “A prenatal agreement?”
“It was the best I could come up with on short notice.” Fuck. Her voice quivered. She wanted to be in charge and in control, and instead the whole situation was making her weepy and morose. She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders.
Max sighed, then held out his hand to her. He was far too astute. She slowly accepted his offered hand, let him pull her into his arms and hold her close for a minute. His heart beat strong against her chest, the brush of his lips against her hair a soft flickering breeze. He squeezed her tight before letting her go, tugging her instead to his side as he sat them on the couch.
“Okay, let’s look this over. I hope you don’t mind if I play with it a bit?”
“Of course not. I want this to work for you as well—it’s got to be fair and right for us both. I think we should probably get some papers drawn up formally.” She curled her legs up beside her, leaning against his side before she’d realized it. The warmth of his body helped keep her jitters away, and she gave in to the temptation to stay there. “I guess the main things are making sure that we’ve got this figured out financially, and with the family. If for some reason I can’t get pregnant, I don’t want you to feel like you’re trapped into staying with me.”
Max hummed as he added notes to the paper. “If you can’t get pregnant, it could be my fault. We’ll deal with it if that happens. Worst-case scenario—have you thought about adopting?”
She shrugged. “I have, but that wouldn’t be anything for you to be concerned about.”
He twisted to face her. “You’re simply not getting it, are you? There is no difference between a child that pops from your body, and one you adopt. They both need family around. I’m in, for the long haul. If we make a baby, great. If not, we adopt and the Turner clan will grow that way.”
The lump in her throat was enormous. She was smart enough to bite back the words asking if he was sure. The expression on his face said he was.
“Tasha? Did you understand what I said?”
She nodded, and he crossed off one of her paragraphs on the prenatal agreement. The only out-clause she’d given him.
He pointed down the page. “You don’t have to worry about the money part. I’ve got a fair bit saved up, and this house can be sold. We can set up some accounts together and some apart—however you feel the most comfortable, but I can tell you right now I make enough to support us both.”
She pressed her hand over his mouth. “Junior, I’m not worried about the money. I trust you. My God, you’re a genius. If anything, you should have the papers drawn up so my business doesn’t suck yours under. That’s not what I want to tell you.”
He leaned back, twisting to the side against the arm of the couch so he could face her.
“I’m not in love with you.”
Max shrugged. “I didn’t say you were.”
Tasha shook her head. “I’m not planning on falling in love with you. I mean, I like you, and I admire you. But I want us to be there for this baby, and that’s the bottom line. This isn’t about roses and poetry. It’s a commitment to the family, and friendship. Nothing more.”
He didn’t even blink. “Okay.”
That easy? Tasha looked for even a glimmer of amusement or ridicule on his face. It wasn’t there. In fact, his expression was basically unreadable. “Okay?”
Max reached and cupped her chin. His thumb brushed against her cheek softly. “I said before that we were going into this by choice. I choose to be with you. You’ve made my motor run over the years, but I’ve also admired your work and your energy and your enthusiasm for life. That’s why I want to be with you. I don’t need any mystical emotional rush to convince me to entangle my future with yours.”
Tasha stared at him. With one word, her life would change, the entire direction she’d set in motion blown apart. Was it really the right thing to do?
“Friends?” she asked.
“As always. And lovers. Hopefully soon, parents.” She nodded. Maxwell’s gaze shifted away from her eyes and dropped to where she’d nervously bit her lower lip. “I think this calls for a celebration, don’t you?”
He leaned forward and caught her mouth against his.
Max had been longing for this moment. He understood why she felt they had to talk through the situation, but as far as he was concerned, all the rest of the details were minor irritations they could deal with anytime. As he kissed her, her mouth opening under his caress, he was struck by how perfect it was, to be here in his house for their first time together. The place he’d established as part of his independence. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, tangled her fingers in his hair and all thought fled, replaced instead by a fever in his veins that threatened to ignite his whole body. Her lips were soft, but her kisses were as demanding as his own. There was no pretending that she didn’t want him, no pretense this was some clinical motion they were going to complete.
Max twisted her on the couch, adjusting so she lay half under him, her body resting on the firm surface, his body resting on hers and his mind boggled. Warm thighs, soft breasts, those lips that continued to drive him mad with slow, wet kisses. The urge to speed up, to eat her hungrily was dismissed in a flash—this was too important to skip the preliminaries. They may have been friends forever, but the lovers bit was shiny and new. Even as eager as he was, he had enough control for that. Maybe.
The kissing went on and on, her mouth beckoning him back. He longed to unwrap her, take this to the logical conclusion, but the distraction of her willing lips was irresistible nectar. She touched and teased with her tongue, a temptress with enough skill to make his knees weak.
Tasha unbuttoned his shirt, kissed along his jaw then bit his neck. He rolled them slightly to one side to let him get at her clothing. He smoothed a hand along the curve of her breast, down her waist, over the swell of her hip until he could cup her ass and pull her close. His cock ached, and grinding against her gave only a momentary relief. He needed to strip her bare, haul her to the edge of the couch and drive in as deep as he could.
Her tongue was doing wicked things to his neck but he wanted more than her lips on his skin. He dug his fingers into her hair and tilted her head back until her mouth was in reach and he could kiss her again. He reveled in her taste, but mostly he enjoyed the eager way she returned his tou
ch.
Their hands were everywhere—opening shirts, tugging fabric from shoulders. They twisted together, staying in contact, feverishly connecting skin on skin as Max sat up and Tasha crawled over him, straddling his lap to return to kissing once more. It was like they were starving, and somehow sharing air would help them survive. He’d lost his shirt, she’d lost hers. Her bra still separated them and he wrapped her close, massaging her back, the warmth of her skin under his palms making him crazy.
It took three attempts to get the damn bra fastener open, and by that time Tasha was laughing, her soft giggles against his lips making him smile.
“Such smooth moves…”
“Distraction—my coordination can’t take it. Holy shit, you’re gorgeous.” Max pulled the straps from her shoulders and stared as her breasts were revealed. He looked up into her eyes, heat reflecting back at him. “Seriously gorgeous.”
He brushed a tender kiss on her lips before leaning back to admire her again. His mouth had gone totally dry.
The full swells of her breasts moved uneasily with her erratic breathing. He cupped one, lifting its heavy weight into his hand as he bent forward to lick the tip. A small sound escaped her. Tasha held his head and pulled him closer, and he gave in to what he’d longed for ever since her birthday. He latched onto the nipple and sucked it into his mouth, playing his tongue over the tip. The peak tightened and he nibbled lightly on the rigid point, pulling off with a slight suction to start all over on the other side.
He was in heaven. Warm skin, lovely heavy tits to enjoy, Tasha making the most fabulous noises in response to his actions. She rocked over him, her crotch heavy against his groin. The heat of her body bled down to entice him with the need to be surrounded by her, squeezing him close. Suddenly the couch was an absolutely rotten place to be, and he seized her under the hips and shuffled upright. Tasha grabbed his neck with a squeal.
“Max!”
“Bedroom. I want to be able to see you and touch you and not worry about falling off the edge of the damn couch.”
She laughed. “I can walk.”
“When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to.”
Her lips latched onto his neck again and a shiver raced down his spine. Damn, she’d found his sweet spot without even trying.
He stumbled to the bedroom, pushing the door aside with his shoulder. He dropped her to the bed surface and yanked the messy sheets to the floor. There were far too many clothes between the two of them still. He stopped for a moment to kiss her senseless, his body covering hers.
When he pulled away she groaned out her pleasure. “I didn’t think we were going to—holy shit.”
He’d stripped off her pants and panties in one motion, opened her legs and dropped between them. She was wet, the curls covering her mound moist where her cream had escaped. He took great pleasure in drawing a finger along her slit, separating her and opening her to his admiration. Her clit peeked out from the folds of skin at the apex of her opening, and he leaned forward to kiss her intimately.
Her hips bucked beneath his mouth, and he laughed. “You need me to restrain you or something?”
She lifted up on her elbows to see him better, her breasts distracting him for a second before he dragged his gaze back up to her eyes. “I’m not used to guys going down on me before I’ve given them head and promised them the moon.”
A jealous pang raced through him. “Assholes. I’m the only one who gets to touch you, ever again. And I want to touch you everywhere.”
The naked hunger in her eyes combined with the naked skin before him was enough of an answer, but she said it anyway. “Feel free.”
He licked her slowly, scooping the taste of her onto his tongue before taking a swirl around her clit. Teasing the sensitive point, loving the moans that rose as he learned what pleased her.
The phone rang, and he ignored it. That’s what answering machines were for. He delved in deeper, opening her with one hand, pulling her curls aside to let him continue to tease with his tongue. Long slow strokes, one after another, until her hips shook and he had to pin her down with his free arm.
Goddamn, he wanted to strip off his jeans and release his erection. Let her wrap her lips around him and see his shaft entering her mouth, her sex. Her ass—he wanted every inch of her to be marked by his touch. More than once. Maybe more than once tonight even.
He slipped a finger into her, relishing the wet heat surrounding him.
“Oh, yeah.”
He chuckled. “Oh yeah to which? This?” He added another finger, pumping them lazily in and out, circling her labia, then pressing in deep. He stroked the front of her passage, hoping to find the places that would drive her mad as he listened carefully for her response.
“This?” He covered her with his mouth again, sucking her clit. He pulled the nub between his teeth and nibbled lightly. “You tell me what you like and I’m game to try.”
“Jesus. How can you talk while you’re fooling around?”
He lapped harder for a moment and her body tightened. He eased off as he felt the first flutters of her core around his fingers. “I like talking when I’m fooling around. I like to tell you the dirty things I want to do to you. You make me hot.”
Tasha growled at him. “Bastard. I was so close.”
“I know, but you’ll get there again. And again. And again.” He attacked, suckling her clit, finger-fucking her hard, and this time he didn’t stop. He carried on until she shook under his touch, crying out her pleasure. Her hips rocked beneath him but he refused to slow down, driving her back up again with his mouth and fingers. This time he drew some of the moisture from her core down between her legs to the star hidden between her cheeks.
He pressed his tongue deep into her sex while he played with her ass and her cries of delight continued. She dragged her fingers through his hair, her knees pulled high and wide to allow him access. He was in heaven, and they’d only begun.
His phone rang again.
A second later, so did his cell phone. His sister’s ring tone shrilled out.
He ignored them both, slipping his finger past the tight muscle of her ass as he slid his thumb into her sex. She squeezed around him and he pinched lightly, to make her squirm.
“Max.”
He licked his way up her body as he returned to her breasts. Blood rushed through him, the need to touch her everywhere and the need to back off for long enough to strip down warring together.
The phones rang again. Tasha cupped his face, forcing him to look up at her. “Max, you’ve got to answer that.”
“Screw the phones.”
She laughed. “I can’t screw anything with them ringing.”
He reluctantly pulled away, staring at her naked body with longing. “Somebody better be dead.”
“Max!” Tasha slapped his chest and crawled backward on the bed.
It was painful to sit up and move away. Behind him, Tasha reached to the floor for the abandoned sheets and as he clicked on his cell phone he was sad to see her cover herself.
His sister responded immediately. “Junior, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt, but when I called Mom and Dad, they assumed you’d come and get me. You said your date was still hush-hush so I couldn’t tell them…shit. I’m sorry.”
Damn it, no. “Back up two paces, sis. Where are you, and why do you need a ride?”
“We went for coffee, Jamie and I, and I didn’t feel like… Well, I convinced him to leave me there. But my car won’t start, so I called Mom and Dad…”
And since he normally would have no problems coming to his sister’s rescue, they’d immediately thought of him. “It’s okay. Where you at?”
She told him, and even as he cursed his luck he was kind of grateful she’d had the sense to not go home with the guy. “I’ll come and get you. Give me a few minutes. Oh, and phone Mom and Dad and tell them to stop calling me.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“Me too.” He stared at Tasha. A frown
marred her face, the bed sheet tucked under her arms. Her nipples poked against the front of the material and his body ached with the need to rip the thin fabric away and start all over again. “Later.”
He hung up and groaned at the injustice of it. The woman of his dreams was in his bed, and he had to leave to rescue his sister. Life was hellish at times.
“Maxine needs a ride?” Tasha scooted to the edge of the bed. “Do you want me to go get her?”
He dropped beside her and pulled her back into his arms. “What I want is to have the phone never have been invented. I want to be making love with you, not doing a mercy drive.”
There was no way to stop from kissing her, his hands automatically slipping under the sheet to caress her naked skin.
She pushed him away.
“Maxine will be waiting. You can’t leave her alone out there.”
He swore. “I know.” He adjusted his cock, striving to find more room for the damn thing. He pulled on a T-shirt as he paced the room. Tasha’s gaze followed him intently.
“Will you still be here when I get back?” he asked. Oh God, you have to still be here.
Tasha paused. “I should go home, Max. I hate to leave, but you have no idea when you’ll get back. I don’t want to make you rush. Deal with Maxine, and we’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
Fuck. Talking was not what was on his mind. “I could come to your place.”
She nodded slowly.
He wasn’t an idiot, not even with his brain fogged with lust. Somewhere in the last two minutes the whole thing had broken down. Between the passion that had flashed between them and the damn phone calls, she’d started thinking again, not in a good way. Damn it all to hell.
Dragging his brain back into working mode was rough. The raging fever in his body wanted nothing more than to order Maxine a taxi and spend the rest of the night in bed with Tasha. Yet, maybe—although his body thought he was an absolute idiot—maybe stopping before they went all the way wasn’t a bad thing.
His body complained mightily—it’s a real bad thing.
She’d said they were going to be friends only. He wanted more. Just because they’d started as friends didn’t mean they had to remain that way. A frantic first rutting wasn’t the kind of memory that would bring up romantic and heartwarming images, no matter how hot and bothered they both were.
