Vivian Arend - Turn It Up

Maxine nodded, then twisted her fingers together. “There is something else.”

“Is this like…personal?” Her body language screamed it was personal.

“Sort of.” She blinked up at him with her big innocent eyes. “How did you know you and Tasha were in love?”

Oh man. She was still seeing Jamie. Old Twinkle Toes hadn’t gotten any better with time, not as far as he was concerned. “Are you asking because you think you might be in love?”

She shrugged. “I don’t think I am, but I’m curious. Is it really something heart-pounding and unmistakable?”

“Hell, yeah.” His instant response brought a chuckle from her, and as they laughed together, he scrambled to find the words that would both encourage her and discourage her from looking for love with the wrong guy, i.e. Jamie the wishy-washy. “It’s not only heart-pounding, it’s butterflies in the stomach and shivers up the spine.”

“Sounds like a bad medical condition,” she teased.

He thought about Tasha, and the way she was trying to open up and let him completely into her life. The last week had been different. That ghostly wall hadn’t appeared even once, and everything in him wanted to jump up and down and rejoice. “Terminal, for sure.”

Maxine rose and paced toward the windows, turning back slowly. “So, if there’s nothing like fireworks, it’s probably not love?”

He hated to say it, but he couldn’t leave it at that. “Now you’re being silly. Even in romantic love there’s more than the physical thrill. There’s thinking about them all the time, and wanting the best for them. Wanting to be with them, like the way sitting in the same room as Tasha can make me happy. Are you telling me that you feel fireworks when you hug Gramma? Or Mom and Dad?”

“Of course not.”

“But you love them, and me, and the cousins and the aunts and—”

She laughed. “Okay, enough. Yes, I love the whole lot of you. Some more than others, and you, only at times.”

He winked. “You know what love is, sis. If you’re looking for fireworks, you’re probably asking about sex, and that’s one discussion we are not having.”

The instant flush over her cheeks was amusing. “No, I don’t want to talk about sex with you. Don’t worry.”

“If you need to talk about that, chat with Tasha. Only make sure I’m working in a faraway place, and I’m wearing headphones.” She wrinkled her nose, and he tweaked it with a laugh. “Hey, I need to go now, if I’m going to make my date with Tasha.”

She smiled as she picked up her coat and headed for the door, him right on her heels. “I had coffee with her this morning. Things are going really well for you guys, aren’t they?”

He nodded as they waited for the elevator. “It’s been the most incredible year of my life.”

“I always thought you guys would be good together. I’m glad.” There was a little note of longing in her voice and he impulsively hugged her. He wanted to tell her to give it a while, but he knew what it felt like to be waiting for the right person.

Now if only Tasha would admit he was the one for her.

Max raced into the house and caught Tasha in the midst of flipping though a catalog with samples of door trim and floor moldings. He snuck behind her and circled her extended waist, pulling her back against him. “Well, hello, beautiful, fancy meeting you here.”

She turned with a happy smile and kissed him sweetly. “You’re right on time. I was about to flip a coin and make the rest of the decisions all at one shot.”

He shrugged. “Sounds as good a way to decide as any.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a quarter, and offered it to her.

“Goof.”

“At your service.”

She raised a brow. “Promises, promises.”

They walked through the house hand in hand, making the last-minute decisions listed for them in the folder. Maxwell’s mind was only half on the task, and a lot more on everything else he’d had dropped on his lap in the last few hours.

“You okay? You seem distracted.” Tasha nudged him as they moved back to the kitchen area. The cupboards were all hung, the island and countertops all in place. The only things missing were the appliances, the knobs on the doors, and the tile flooring. Max ran a hand over the shiny sinks as he considered what to say.

“Maxy was asking some pretty deep questions. I guess I’m thinking about them.”

She nodded. “She told you too? That’s good.”

He frowned. “You knew about Gramma wanting to leave the house? How did you find out already?”

“Gramma Turner is leaving the house? That’s sad. I’d hate to see the place no longer a part of the family.”

“It should stay in— Wait, what were you talking about?” Confusion swirled in his brain. “If you didn’t know about Gramma, then I don’t understand. What did you think Maxy told me?”

She looked away, evading his gaze. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you.”

“Tasha…”

“It’s not my secret to share.”

He pressed her back against the wall, trapping her with his arms on either side of her head. She grinned at him, the heavy swells of her breasts and belly bumping his body, and a shot of lust raced through him. “Do I need to torture it out of you?”

“Hey, if that turns your crank, I’m all for it.” They leered at each other.

Max paused, his ache for her checked by his concern for his sister. “Is Maxy’s secret something I need to worry about?”

Tasha shook her head. “She’ll tell you when she’s ready.”

A rush of gratitude hit him. “You’ve become a good friend to her. Thank you.”

That one brow went up again as she stared him down. “I’m not doing it for your sake. She’s a great person.”

“Still, I’m glad you two get along so well.”

“Me too.” Tasha dug her fingers into his hair and tugged his lips to hers. He got lost in the kiss until the rising sexual tension around them was broken by the enormous yawn that escaped her.

He nibbled on her neck. “Too tired to fool around?”

“Not really, but there’s no bed here anymore. And I’m not doing it on the porch again. We actually have neighbors here, and no fence yet. So unless you have some other brilliant idea…”

Brilliant ideas? He had a million of them. A fair number of them involved that oversized Jacuzzi tub they’d had installed in the master en suite. He’d cleaned it up the other day to ensure the plumbing was hooked up correctly.

“What’s that look for?” She waggled her brows.

Shit. “You mean my poker face wasn’t doing its job?”

Hands tugged at his shirt, pulling his T-shirt free of his jeans. She slid her warm palms up his back. “Nope. And usually you’re such a good player. Pity. I think I’m going to have to demand a payment for your lack of control.”

“I thought you were tired.” His hopes rose. While he loved the talking time, and planning and simply being with each other, he couldn’t get enough of her. All the physical changes she was going through thrilled him, and while it would be fun when she wasn’t pregnant to be able to get a little more athletic again, he wasn’t complaining.

“I thought so too. It’s not fair, you know, that you still manage to make me excited even when my brain wants nothing more than to shut down and hibernate.”

She dragged her fingernails down his back, and he arched, groaning out his pleasure. “Shit, woman, I’m a caveman right now. It’s not your brain I want to get intimate with.”

He reached under the loose fabric of her maternity top and found her breasts. Her head fell back against the wall as he massaged gently, catching the tightening nipples under his thumbs in endless circles.

“You planning on sharing your brilliant idea with me soon? Because although I have some awesome memories of this wall, I somehow don’t think my belly or my balance is going to cooperate enough to make this a viable spot for sex.”

“Don’t be in such a hurry, woman. I want to enjoy the appetizers out here, then move for the main course.”

She laughed, the light sound breaking into a shaky moan as he pushed her top up and licked her nipple over the fabric of her bra. “As long as you’re prepared for me to melt into a puddle of goo when you’re done.”

“Hmm.” He tugged down her bra to reveal what he was searching for. “I like goo. Chocolate flavored? Strawberry?”

“Does sex have a flavor? Oh, yes.”

He paused in the middle of twirling his tongue around one tight nipple. “You have a flavor. Kind of vanilla and maple at the same time.”

She pulled him off one side and he willingly went to pay attention to the other lonely breast. “Are you calling me vanilla?”

“You? I highly doubt it.” He closed his lips around the tip that beckoned to him and sucked in tiny pulses. Tasha’s voice quivered as she moaned his name.

He teased her for the longest time, loving being able to share his desire like this. There was plenty of time to softly worship her breasts before running his hands up and down her inner thighs and over her ass.

Hmm, her ass. He rotated her to face the wall, then he knelt and pulled her hips backward slightly to rub his palms over the rounds. Hidden beneath the denim maternity pants, he couldn’t do much more than squeeze and press in circles, dragging a hand down the seam separating one sweet cheek from the other.

Her muffled words snuck out from where she’d rested her face against her arms, leaning on the wall. “I know it’s not kosher to say this, but I love it when you touch my ass.”

He bit one cheek, enjoying the little moan that escaped her. “Who says it’s not proper? I’ve told you myself. I love your ass. In fact, I’d like to fuck your ass.”