Turn It Up (9 page)

“My motor has been burning out on high for years, and we’ve had dates. Catastrophes, every one of them. Well, they’ve been great dates in the visiting department, but lousy in the sex department. You can’t get pregnant having ice tea and fruit salad. Or through a telephone. Bell invented a great contraceptive.”

She laughed. “Hey, you need to claim responsibility for half those disasters. The night I tried sleeping over at your place, I’m not the one who caved when the family showed up. An impromptu lawn party is one thing, but people deciding to stay and camp for the night kind of put a damper on things.”

“You let Lila crash on your couch the night I was over…”

Shit
. “I nearly revoked her BFF papers that night.”

“Damn it, Tasha, this is insane. I think I had more opportunities for sex back when I was a teenager.”

“Oh, so long ago, right?”

“Shut it.” He laughed though, and something warm swept over her. The whole situation was ridiculous, but in spite of their no-show in the sex department, she was happy so far with her decision to let him into her life. Even now, getting to laugh with him over their frustrations—it boded well for the future. If they were going to raise a child together, getting along was important.

“What are you up to today, Max? Shall we try for another date just to see what the Turner clan can come up with to keep us apart?”

Loud beeping noises filled the background, a door slammed and Maxwell sighed. “Ah, fuck it. I’m now officially hiding out. Someone from the manor house decided this week would be a good time for fixing the water main. There are backhoes and tractors in the side yard, all of them growling and making so much noise I’m never going to get any work done. I’m going to have to give up and hit a coffee shop to find some peace and quiet.”

Tasha looked around her small office space. She’d rented a corner from a common work group until her new house was done and she could set up a proper home office. “I’d invite you to join me here, but there’s barely enough room to swing a cat.”

“Is there room to pet a pussy?”

She choked for a second. “Excuse me?”

“Damn it, Tasha, I’m dying. Are you wet? Did you get excited thinking about me coming over there and taking you on your desk?”

The answering pulse from between her legs was a resounding yes. “I thought you were going to a coffee shop?”

“I’m headed there right after I get rid of this wood. You want to help?”

Oh my God.
Twenty-somethings were nothing if not blunt. “You said something about phones not making it easy to have sex. You figured out how to work instant teleportation?”

“No, but if you have any pity for me, you’ll let me have some fun. Is the door closed to your office?”

She got up and closed it. Locked it. Put her landline on the answering machine. Hell, if nothing else, she owed him one. And if they were going to have phone sex, she wasn’t letting anything interrupt them this time. “You need me to talk in a deep voice or something? Ask if you want to get dirty with me?”

He
hmmed
. “You can talk dirty to me, or you can tell me what you’re doing. What are you wearing, Tasha? Skirt? Pants?”

“Skirt. Short one, with a thong underneath.” He groaned and she didn’t even fight the smile that rose to her lips. This was powerful and sexy, and she was ready to drive him mad. “I’m sitting in my chair, and I can put my legs up on my desk. You want me to do anything else? Shall I strip?”

“Leave the thong on. Play with your breasts first. You wearing your earphone?”

“Yup. Hands are both free. Actually, my hands are both full. Oh God, that feels good. I liked it the other night when you touched my breasts.” She rubbed circles over herself, cupping and massaging slowly.

“Pinch your nipples. You’ve got a great set of tits, Tasha. I love how sensitive they are. How when I touched you, they tightened. When I suckled, your whole body quivered.”

She reached under her blouse, shoving aside the fabric of her bra letting the base support her breasts from underneath and leaving her nipples free. “I wish you were here. Kissing me, sucking me. Biting—I like a little biting as well.”

Tasha pinched harder and gasped with the shot of pleasure that raced through her. The cool air of the office space pooled over her bare skin, her breasts, her crotch.

“I’m going to fuck your tits sometime. I can picture it, pressing you around me, the head of my cock poking out and you licking it on every stroke. But that’s only for fun for me, I don’t think you get much out of that. I think you’d prefer if I fuck you the regular way.”

She laughed. “What’s the regular way?”

“How about this time with your heels propped on the desk and I come up between your thighs? I’ll lean over your chair and hang onto the arms and pump into you hard. The chair will roll, so every time I plunge into you, I’ll pull the chair back hard, so my cock goes deep.”

Tasha dropped one hand to her sex, rubbing her clit through the layer of fabric covering it. “How are you going to do that when I’m still wearing this thong?”

The beeping noises in the background on his end grew louder again and he swore. “Bloody hell, what’s a guy got to do to get a little privacy? Fuck it.” There was a rustle, a few more swear words, a loud click, followed by the splash of running water.

“Max? What the hell is going on?” In spite of being extremely turned on, Tasha was highly amused.

“I’m in the shower. Damn workmen were right outside the bathroom and although I don’t give a shit if guys want to watch me jerk off, there was a girl with them. I swear we’ve been cursed or something.”

Hmm, payback time. “You’re in the shower?”

“Dripping wet and naked, with my non-waterproof phone. If it shorts out… Well, we’re used to frustration, aren’t we?”

She could help deal with the aggravating interruptions, at least this time. It was too good an opportunity to resist. “I’m in the shower with you.”

“I like that thought. Your wet skin rubbing mine.”

“No. Well, maybe one rub, then I’m going down on my knees.” He swore lightly, and she smiled, rubbing her clit harder, closing her eyes to picture it so she could describe enough to drive him wild. “I look up at you, the long length of your cock between me and your face. You’re smiling.”

“I’m fucking grinning my face off. What you going to do next?”

“Hmm, no this is all you. You’re stroking your cock, squeezing it in your fist. The head has turned purple and there’s a bit of liquid on the tip. I want to lick it but I can’t reach, so you pull my head closer and hold yourself steady for me.”

“
Holy hell.
”

“I lick it off, and you taste so good I don’t even tease you. I just open my mouth wide and suck you in. You’re hot in my mouth, stretching my lips. I have to let you go to get you wet enough to be able to take you all the way.”

The noises in the background picked up again, this time a slapping sound, and she pressed on her clit again. He was stroking himself, picturing her mouth surrounding him. She upped the ante.

“You want more. You press in so far you bump the back of my throat, but I can handle you. I swallow and you slip in even farther, until my nose is touching your abs. My mouth is full, and you taste good. A bit salty, but clean and sexy. And then you hold onto my head and pump your hips backs and forth like you’re fucking my mouth and—”

“
Damn
…”

There was a loud crash, and the sound of water dancing against the bottom of the shower. Then the phone cut out and she laughed so hard she cried. By the time she could breathe again, the hard, aching tingle between her legs hadn’t diminished a bit. She leaned back in her chair and pictured Max losing control in the shower, his seed spraying as he envisioned her mouth on him. She rubbed her clit until she came as well, a tight restless climax compared to when his mouth had been on her, but still satisfying.

Almost as satisfying as knowing she could make him lose control like that.

A harsh sweep of guilt caught up with her. This was supposed to be about making a baby. Just because she’d enjoyed how Maxwell moved in the bedroom didn’t mean she should be playing with sex for sex’s sake. Except—he was twenty-four, and no matter how much he insisted he wanted to get her pregnant, he had the libido of a twenty-four-year old.

She was damned if she did, and damned if she didn’t.

No, they were going to have sex, and trying to convince Maxwell to keep it sterile and old-fashioned was never going to fly. He’d made that clear from their first explosive kiss back at the house. He needed this to be more than simply a duty—in fact… Tasha wandered her tiny office space, trying to make her tumbling thoughts come back into line. Maybe the whole fooling-around area was something she should make sure to do for him. After all, a steady sex life couldn’t be a bad thing for a guy to look forward to. On the other side of the coin, there was no reason for her not to enjoy herself. She had always liked sex, as long as it was monogamous.

A cool pit opened in her belly. That was another reason to make sure she didn’t stint on keeping Maxwell happy in the bedroom—if they ever made it there. She didn’t want him to even consider looking elsewhere for a partner. A shiver of doubt crept in and she pushed it aside. No, being deserted for another woman wasn’t part of this game plan. Been there, done that, burnt the T-shirt. That broken relationship had hurt enough she never wanted to have to experience it again.

Damn it all.
The wonderful sensation she’d had floating through her after the phone conversation dissipated like weak bubbles.

She packed up her things. She already knew the afternoon was going to be a write-off and continuing to work was out of the question.

All her concerns piled up, jumbled together into a mess. Plotting about enjoying sex, her ongoing fears that she wasn’t loveable, her guilt that by getting involved with Max she was cheating him out of experiencing love—because she didn’t love him. Couldn’t. It just wasn’t…

Screw it
. No way would she let her mind go there.

It was one thing to reason out her sexual game plan, another to completely to convince herself. If she could put aside her lingering concerns that having fun sexually with Maxwell was wrong, they might be able to get somewhere.

Somewhere in the next forty-eight hours she was determined to find a way to make this situation between her and Max move on to its logical conclusion. Because as enjoyable as the phone sex had been at the time, it wasn’t what they needed to be doing.

She wasn’t sure if she should be laughing or crying as she headed home.

It was four in the afternoon by the time Max completed his arrangements. He took one final look around the room before racing to his car and calling Tasha.

“You ready?” he asked.

There was laughter in her voice. “You survived! How nice to hear from you. I wasn’t sure if I would need to find a new phone number for you or what.”

“Damn phone is toast. Yes, I have a new one.”

“Expensive phone call. Sorry about that.”

He turned toward her apartment, on the lookout for potholes, nail strips—anything that might ruin tonight’s planned activities. “It was worth every penny. I felt bad that I left you hanging.”

“Oh, I took care of business myself.”

Oh God, the images that rushed to his mind. His tongue slipped a few times before he could respond. “Was it good?”

“Adequate.”

Shit
. “I’ll try to do better next time.” As far as he was concerned, her orgasms were his responsibility from now on. Starting tonight. “Be ready in ten minutes. I’ll be at your door. Leave your phone behind, and I’ll do the same. The world will not fall apart if people can’t find us for a few hours.”

“Max? Where are we going?”

“Hey, people keep interrupting us, so I’ve decided the less anyone knows about what we’re doing the better chance of success we have, right?”

“Good with me. I’ll grab my purse and meet you downstairs.”

Max disconnected the headset and tried to calm down. Damn, he was sitting in the car and his heart raced like he’d run the entire distance to her place. He pulled up to the curb and waited, deliberately not fidgeting with his fingers on the steering wheel.

Surely he had enough control to at least pretend to act like he was a grown-up.

Of course, that meant he got even more of a kick out of it when
she
snuck across the yard and into the car like a secret agent, pulling off her sunglasses with a flourish and removing a big floppy hat.

She gave him the biggest grin. “You telling me what we’re doing yet?”

“Nope, but put this in the glove box for me.” He handed over his new cell phone and when she laughed, he had to join in. He made sure to drive carefully—all he needed was his uncle, who was one of the local cops, to pull him over. It would undoubtedly start an entire Turner clan chain reaction he desperately needed to avoid.

When he pulled into the driveway at the construction site of her new home, she shook her head. “I still don’t see the possibilities. Although I do have a few good memories of the place already.”

“Me yelling at you?”

She laughed. “That ranks high on the list, trust me.” She waited for him to come and open her door. “I know they’ve got the walls up, I was here two days ago, but there’s nothing else. I guess we’re picnicking on the floor.”

Max nodded. “Would that be so bad? As long as we don’t get interrupted?”

The expression on Tasha’s face made the effort he’d gone through to get this ready worth all the sweat, and every penny. “I’ll sit on the floor happily if we can have some time alone.”

He unlocked the front door, opened it and gestured her in ahead of him.

Her gasp of surprise was music to his ears.

“Max, what in the hell?”

She went immediately to the table and chairs that sat in what would be the dining room. He’d bought the set he’d seen circled in the open catalog on the coffee table that night he’d tucked her drunken body into bed. Strange side effect of his eclectic memory—even in the midst of his sexual haze he’d noticed the advertisement and hoped it would be something to please her. Tasha ran one hand over the dark-brown iron chair backs, admiring the plush cushions, and when she twisted back toward him, a huge grin covered her face. “You goof. Lawn furniture inside the house?”