Turn It Up: Turner Twins, Book 2

by Vivian Arend

  Luckily, it seemed she had the same idea. As they kissed, lips hard against each other, she tugged him with her as she backed up until she’d trapped herself between the hood of the car and his aching groin. A quick hop put her on the surface, her thighs spread wide to allow him to stay in intimate contact with her. His hands came down on the hood to check the temperature, but the surface was warm, not boiling hot. The hottest thing was her, the way she rubbed against him, the way she participated in the steamy kiss.

  When he finally dragged his lips away he was shaking. “Tasha, I can wait two more minutes—”

  “I can’t.”

  She undid the buttons of her dress top faster than he thought possible, revealing another purplish article of lingerie. The fabric was so sheer her nipples showed through, the darker circles poking the fabric like tiny mountain peaks in the middle of rosy plains. She dropped a hand between her breasts, twisted her fingers, and the cups popped apart leaving the heavy globes bare to the sunshine and his adoring gaze.

  He doubted his cock could get any harder. Except—it did. When she grabbed his head and pulled him to her, lining up a nipple with his lips, all bets were off. There could be an audience watching and he really didn’t give a shit. He lapped once in a circle then enveloped the tip, sucking hard. Tasha cried out and adjusted her position, arching her back to press her breast farther into his mouth. He switched sides, letting the moisture from his mouth leave one tip glistening in the sunshine before changing back to the other.

  Tasha propped her left foot up on the hood beside her hip, leaned forward and reached for his belt. Even as their mouths reconnected she managed to open his pants and slip her hand in, grab his erection and pull it free. She stroked him, and it felt so damn good. Not that she needed to prime him anymore, but with every pass she trailed her thumb over the head, smearing the precome over the tip. He let it go on until he felt his balls drawing up. Too fast. Too out of control. He was seventeen again and jerking off to the thought of her touch, and now she was touching him and he had no more control than back then. He pulled away and dragged his gaze up off her magnificent tits to stare into her eyes.

  Sheer mischief reflected back as she leered at him. “Do I make you hot?”

  “Wench.”

  He rearranged her slightly, shifting her to the side, allowing enough room for him to place her right foot up on the hood as well. The scoop of her dress fell to hide her sex. She leaned back on her arms, forcing the open buttons on top to spread wide around her breasts like some kind of erotic postcard. He placed both palms against the sides of her full rounds, pressing and lifting them together, admiring her as she shook her head and let her dark hair fall around her shoulders.

  He placed his hands on her knees, slipping upward, over her thighs, dragging the fabric away to reveal her bare mound. His cock jerked where it stuck out from his pants. Liquid glistened on her labia and he traced a finger slowly through her folds and she shuddered.

  He pressed in, never looking away as she enclosed him in her moist heat. Tasha purred, wiggling her hips closer to the edge of the car hood, pressing against him. He pulled out slowly, the moisture painting his finger drawing him like a magnet. He brought his hand to his mouth and licked away the cream, groaning as the taste of her hit his tongue.

  “That’s so wicked.” Tasha whispered the words and he smiled at her.

  “We’re about to have sex outdoors and you think that’s wicked? Watch. Watch every fucking second.”

  He stepped forward, opening her with one hand, running his thumb over her labia gently. One movement lined up the ready head of his shaft and he slowly let her surround him, the sight making the sensations that much more powerful. Tasha moaned softly, bringing down a hand to touch where they connected.

  Her finger running along the seam between his cock and her opening nearly undid him.

  “I can’t last longer than thirty seconds around you.” Max ground the words out through gritted teeth.

  “I can’t either. Damn, that looks incredible. Now fuck me.”

  He did.

  Max grabbed her hips and pounded into her, his cock disappearing between her folds to reappear, shining in the sunlight. Erotic as all get-out. She’d been primed on the ride out, hell she’d been hot since she’d gotten herself waxed and lady-scaped. A full Brazilian had never been in her plans before, but she’d thought he’d like it. Seeing him join with her, out of doors, where anyone going by could watch?

  If she got any more turned on she’d spontaneously combust. She’d never known she had a streak of exhibitionism.

  Then he ducked his head between them and latched onto one of her nipples, biting lightly, and she came. Pulses of pleasure shook her core, surprising her silly since she fully expected to need clitoral stimulation to climax. He didn’t stop when she called out her pleasure, driving in repetitively until she felt a renewed electric tingle.

  “Oh God, again.” She grabbed his shoulders, pressing her knees wider to the side. He leaned over her, plunging downward more. The change in angle dragged his shaft along her clit on each move, and she couldn’t help groaning. The sunshine, the gentle touch of the wind against her skin, the wordless grunts from his lips as he thrust. All of it combined together into one exquisite blend of sound and sensation and when she came this time, he joined her, his forehead resting against her shoulder as he shook with his release.

  They sat like that for a full minute—an obscenely erotic figurine perched on the hood of his car. Then his shoulders shook again, and she leaned back to catch a glimpse of his face. He wore a grin that lit up his face and made her smile as well.

  “You look pleased with yourself.”

  Max kissed her gently before slowly detaching himself. A rush of semen followed and he jerked off his shirt to wipe her clean, managing to keep her pretty dress from being stained. She was surrounded and petted, his hands smoothing everything back into place, lowering her gently to the ground. Holding her against his bare chest. Her fingers found their way to him, touching him slowly as he swept her up and carried her into the cabin.

  She’d been very happy to take the step of the actual wedding and put it behind her. And although the idea of a honeymoon made something inside her cringe, what he’d offered was just fine. A chance to enjoy each other’s company, away from the Turner love/hate relationship she was developing. As a background for raising a child? Fabulous. For the rest of it? Well, they’d be setting up some firm boundaries regarding the Turners and their personal relationship, if she had any say. Not only had it been tough to get together in the first place, she wasn’t sure she could handle any more responses like Lila’s. Maybe if they got some space for a bit—and then the damn guilt hit her again and she knew she’d never try to come between Max and his family.

  She couldn’t. Wouldn’t do that.

  The rest of the weekend passed in a pleasant blur as they walked the beach, ate simple meals and planned for the future. The sex they shared was frequent enough to please her pregnancy plans, and to keep Maxwell grinning most of the time.

  They had already dealt with all the legal implications of joining their households. Health insurance, a combined account to deal with family expenses. The rest of their finances and investments were still in their own names. Tasha’d been floored to find out exactly how much Max was worth. It didn’t seem right that someone in their twenties had more stashed away than she did, and she’d been living frugally.

  He’d laughed when she teasingly complained he must have found a gold mine.

  “You didn’t get into the computer stuff I did at the right time. Plus, I fooled around with a few projects while I was in college that made me a bit of cash.” Max leaned back in his Adirondack chair, the full light of sunset shining on them as they relaxed on the porch.

  She sipped her ice tea and admired the view. “You amaze me. All those years when we met at various Turner events it never registered that you were actually done with high school, then you were done wi
th college and working for yourself.”

  He laughed. “That was deliberate. It was bad enough I was fourteen when I finished high school. When Mom and Dad let me challenge the college entrance exams, they didn’t expect me to get in. Then I don’t think they expected me to survive the rest of the semester when my classmates were all so much older.”

  “Wasn’t that weird? Being the youngest all the time?”

  He shrugged lightly. “When we were in class, there were no troubles. My lab partners didn’t care about my age, as long I knew how to calculate formulas. Outside of college time? I hit my growth spurt early enough I was simply a tall, skinny guy. I didn’t try to fit in with the crowd that was dating and fooling around at the bars, since I couldn’t get in anyway.”

  He raised his glass mockingly and she laughed. “Oh God, I’d forgotten that part. No wild Spring Break parties then?”

  “Didn’t miss it. I found enough other people who were interested in games, and that was pretty much how I passed what spare time I did have when I wasn’t goofing off on the computer. I wasn’t mature enough back then to try and act like an adult all the time, but games created a level playing field. I tried to save most of the teenage angst for when I came home, much to my mother’s dismay.”

  “The legendary Turner gaming addiction. Even while at college.”

  “It’s bred true.” He turned his face toward the sun and Tasha realigned a few of her early conceptions. He may have been advanced mentally, but he’d still dealt with the same stuff she had at that age.

  “Still, it must have been tough.”

  Max shook his head. “I don’t know that it was any tougher than being back in high school. It just was. I dealt with it. For the most part, I had a blast. And when I finished college, it was time to move on and be a grown-up, even if it didn’t seem like I was old enough to most people.”

  Something suddenly stuck her. “When you asked me out that first time…?”

  “Yup, I may have been seventeen, but I already thought you were more than simply a hot girl in a short skirt.”

  Tasha threw a pillow at him. “I didn’t wear short skirts.”

  “Of course you did. There was this one especially that got me going. A Daisy Duke cut-off kind of thing. I nearly wore my cock out picturing you in it.” Tasha sat speechless, her mouth hanging open. “You’re not planning on arguing with me, are you? Perfect recall, remember?”

  She choked out an answer. “It’s not that, it’s the blunt sexual comments out of your mouth that tie me up in knots. I’m still trying to remember you’re not off limits anymore.”

  He leaned forward and raked his gaze over her. Sexual intent flared, and suddenly the quiet evening of sharing was done and it was time to move to other more intimate matters. “Definitely not off limits. Are you done your drink?”

  She sipped slowly, to tease him. She’d discovered she enjoyed teasing him. “You’re too efficient.”

  He put down his glass, stood and held out his hand. The heat in his eyes let her know exactly what he had planned. “I do my best.”

  And when their weekend was over, and they got back to reality to officially start their time together, it was soon clear that his best meant all-out concerted effort.

  Chapter Twelve

  The first morning she woke and didn’t feel like getting out of bed, Tasha didn’t say anything. It was too frightening to consider if she was pregnant, and too heart-wrenching if it turned out she wasn’t.

  Instead, she put it up to not being used to having a younger guy in bed with her. Confessing he could wear her out? The thought made her smirk—he certainly seemed to be trying hard enough, both in and out of the sack. Over the past month she’d lost five pounds from their newly established exercise program, not to mention all the sex. Combined with their decision keep junk food out of the house, for the first time in four years she fit into her favorite designer jeans.

  It was like having her own personal trainer twenty-four/seven.

  Progress continued on her house construction, contrasting with a notable lack of progress when it came to mending fences with Lila. Her emails went unanswered, and she knew damn well Lila had to be screening her calls. The hurt inside ached at times. Tasha still hoped that whatever had gotten into Lila would smooth itself out, but until it did, there wasn’t much more she could do.

  She was surrounded by stubborn people. But at least when it came to Max, his ability to dig in his heels made sense, even when it drove her crazy. Ever since he’d moved in and they were forced into constant communication, there was no leeway given over things he thought were important. It made it tough to maintain emotional distance from the guy, because he always backed up his arguments with logic she couldn’t deny.

  While the physical attraction between them was clear, and man was she ever enjoying the attempting-to-get-pregnant part, she wanted more space. Not only because it had been over five years since she’d had a roommate of any kind. She needed some privacy, and soon, before the lines of friendship got even more blurred than they already were. Waking up to find herself cuddled up tight to him, or opening her eyes to discover him staring at her, gently stroking her hair back from her face—no way. No freaking way could she let that continue.

  It was too dangerous. Screamed of all those other times she’d trusted someone with her heart and they’d turned around and taken advantage of her. Maybe Max would be different, but all she would acknowledge right now was his commitment to the idea of family. Not to her. Not yet.

  She had to guard her heart. Time for desperate measures.

  Tape measure in hand, she eyeballed the second bedroom of the apartment. It was crowded with her exercise bike and the tables Max had set up to put his computer equipment on. “You know, I think if we got one of those Murphy bed things we could fit it in here.”

  Max looked up from where he was working, confusion blurring his features for a second. “Are you expecting guests?”

  “No, for you. Until we move into the house and you can have your own room. Here, give me a hand.” She held one end of the tape toward him and slipped toward the corner to measure the space between the closet and the wall. “I mean, once I’m pregnant, we don’t need to keep sharing a bed. We don’t even need to share a bed now. Except for sex.”

  He nodded slowly as he took the other end of the measure and held it to where she pointed. “I see. Can I make a suggestion?”

  He waited until she acknowledged him, then gave a sharp tug on the measuring tape. The end she held flew from between her fingers, slapping against his chest.

  “Max, what the hell are you doing?”

  He dodged around the computer chair and snagged her hands in his. He slowly wrapped the tape around both her wrists as he spoke, holding her firmly in spite of her wiggled attempts to escape. “My suggestion is—no. Moms and dads sleep together.”

  “But—”

  “Get used to it. I’m not having a separate room from you so down the road we need to come up with all kinds of explanations for our kids.”

  “We could switch things up later.” Oh God, he’d said kids. Like it was real and would be happening.

  “Nope. May as well start now. That will give us a spare room in the house.” He tugged her closer with her immobilized hands between them. “Does this mean that you were planning on giving up sex once you get pregnant? I don’t remember that in the prenatal agreement.”

  Busted. “It’s not, but—”

  “Because I don’t think either of us would enjoy that idea. If we’re honest. I like having sex with you.”

  Max nuzzled her neck and she gave up. And gave in, refusing to think too hard about the warm feeling his stubborn response lit inside.

  “You’re such a pain in the ass,” she grumbled.

  “Of course if you start snoring—then all bets are off and we’ll talk.”

  He grinned, untied her, and went back to his project.

  That was another thing that amazed her—the way th
e man worked. He could have four things on the go at one time, and seem to keep them all moving forward simultaneously. Tasha shook her head and went back to her own work, carefully double-checking her blueprints and not attempting to imitate his seemingly chaotic approach. Anyone who pulled details together as randomly as he could made her suspicious.

  A couple days later he was the one looking at her with suspicion as she sat up carefully and maneuvered her legs over the edge of the bed. A groan escaped, one hand rising to cover her mouth.

  “So…?” He wandered around the end of the bed to stare down at her.

  The rising nausea in her belly made her move slowly. “So, that casserole your cousins pawned off on us wasn’t my favorite. I think it’s repeating on me.”

  She stood and swayed. He grabbed on instantly, his strong arms supporting her as the room spun.

  Concern wrinkled his brow. “I think the casserole was fine.”

  No, no, it definitely wasn’t. Tasha pushed herself free and barely made it to the bathroom in time.

  He helped, quietly soothing her even as he pulled her hair out of the way and tied it back with an elastic band. Gave her a cold facecloth and rubbed her back until the shakes passed. Handed her a glass of water to rinse her mouth out.

  Then he handed her a pregnancy-test kit.

  She swallowed around the horrible taste in her mouth, now half caused by nerves. After all her planning and plotting, he might have handed her a snake.

  Her mind raced. What if it was positive? What if she’d managed to get pregnant? Suddenly this whole arrangement they’d pulled together would be permanent and she’d have to face that fact.

  Or worse, what if she wasn’t?

  “It’s too early to know.”

  Maxwell raised a brow. “I’m damn sure you are, from all the other signs, but humor me. These things are supposed to be able to pick up within a few days of conception.”