Vivian Arend - Turn It Up

A wave of arousal slid over her as the tightness in his voice sent her higher. The cut-off words, his evident lust—registered deep. He couldn’t even speak, and his shaft seemed to expand, growing even harder and hotter within her body. He picked up the pace, not simply allowing the bench to swing, but using momentum to make each slam of her ass against his groin that much firmer. She wasn’t frightened the motion was too rough with the rest of her body so well supported.

Her breasts swayed, hanging below the bra he’d moved aside. The edge of the fabric teased her nipples on each rock, enough of a touch that tingles of pleasure threaded through her and boosted the impending climax building in her core.

Max drew the swing to a stop, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her upright against his chest. The folds of her blouse fell open, her breasts bare to his touch and he cupped one, his thumb lightly teasing her nipple against the side of his forefinger. He snuck a hand over her belly and between her legs, fingers unerringly reaching her clit. Somehow he found the leverage to continue to thrust upward, pressing into her with short stabs. All of the sensations combined together, the sensual touches, his heated breath. The sounds from the wind in the trees, that fact it was so wicked and risky to be making love out on the porch. Her orgasm took her by surprise and her core pulsed around him. Max swore as he slowed, then froze deep inside before exploding.

He held her tight for a moment, then somehow got them both vertical and twisted around so she ended up sitting on his lap, still connected. Completely relaxed from her climax, she let him do the arranging of their limbs as he placed her pant-bound legs over his. He pulled her torso back until her head rested on his shoulder and his warm hands languidly roamed over all the bare skin he could reach.

“That’s about the dirtiest thing I’ve ever done.” Tasha twisted her head slightly to rub her lips against his stubble-roughened cheek. He caught her lips with his and they kissed lazily, warm breaths combining as they relaxed.

He buttoned her shirt up without taking his lips from hers. She opened her eyes, but his face was still relaxed, eyes closed even as he dressed her. His cock slipped from her body and he helped her up, straightening and tucking himself away only after he’d made sure she was comfortable and covered. They held hands as they went back to shut up the house, then hit the road to return home. All the while the tenderness in his touch landed in layers and soaked into her soul.

Maybe this whole crazy thing wasn’t a mistake. Maybe she could be brave enough to let go of a few more fears and learn to trust completely.

The muted sounds of medical equipment carried through the air, the clean scent of antiseptic and that not-quite-pleasant aroma of completely sterile surroundings. Max held on to Tasha’s fingers and tried not to squeeze too tightly.

“I’m dying here.” Tasha wiggled uncomfortably on the bed, her softly rounded belly poking up under the pale blue of her maternity top. He reached with his free hand and stroked the place where their baby was growing. Six months, and there was no denying to anyone that another Turner was on the way.

“I offered to drink the water for you, but they said that wouldn’t work very well.” He brought his chair closer to the bed without having to let go with either hand, and she chuckled lightly, cutting off with a moan.

“Don’t make me laugh or I’m going to pee right here on the bed. I think someone miscalculated how much liquid I needed to drink for this ultrasound to work. Oh…”

His heart leapt. “I felt that. The baby kicked.” He palmed her belly gently, rubbing in slow circles. The sensation didn’t get old—he’d been lying in bed for the past three weeks with his arm wrapped around Tasha, carefully holding her belly to catch as many of the increasingly noticeable movements as possible.

“This little tyke is getting more accurate in targeting vital spots. I know my bladder is full right now, but that doesn’t make it open season.” She dropped her head back on the pillow with a groan and Max’s heart swelled with love. She’d been better lately about not cutting herself off from him emotionally, but there was still something missing. Some part she held in reserve, and that damn prenatal agreement bound his tongue. It was killing him not to blurt out how much she meant to him.

Especially at a time like this. A truly momentous occasion, a memory they would share forever.

He leaned closer and kissed her cheek, nuzzling against her as they waited for the clinician to join them. The faint scent of her soap filled his head, the smell of her skin connecting him with so many memories from the past months. He loved waking in the morning with her cuddled next to him, usually with one leg thrown over his like she was trying to make sure he couldn’t run away.

She didn’t need to worry. He wasn’t planning on going anywhere.

Fluttering rumbles continued under his hand as their baby moved and his chest tightened. He had to get his mind on other things, or he was going to be bawling like a baby himself before too long. He brushed one final kiss against her temple before leaning back in his chair, reluctantly pulling his hand away.

“Did you arrange to take the rest of the day off?”

She nodded. “We need to stop in at the house sometime in the next while and make a few decisions about tile and taps and all sorts of things—the finishers have kept a list for us.”

Max groaned. He’d always prided himself on being a good multitasker, but over the past weeks as he’d strived to be there for Tasha, the ability to juggle as many balls as usual seemed to elude him.

Somehow he’d find the time to get it all done, without her thinking he was neglecting her. All the advances he’d made in terms of having her open up to him, having her start to confide in him as more than simply a friend, gave him hope she was falling for him. Now if she’d stop being so damn stubborn and admit it, they could get somewhere.

They chatted quietly as she squirmed until there was finally a knock at the door and a gowned attendant joined them.

“Sorry for the wait, we’ll be ready to roll in a jiffy.” The woman held out a hand to Tasha. “I’m Nancy. You eager to get a peek at that little one?”

Tasha’s face lit up. “You have no idea.”

Nancy laughed. “Well, I’m sure when I push on your bladder you’ll be debating how much you want these pictures, but yes, it’s exciting.” She turned toward him and smiled. “How nice. You brought your brother with you.”

He couldn’t stop his burst of laughter. “Husband. I’m the father of the baby you’re taking pictures of in a minute.”

The woman floundered for words, stammering out an embarrassed apology as she reached to grab plastic bottles from a warming tray. Max exchanged glances with Tasha. Her cheeks were flushed, but she rolled her eyes for a second then blew him a kiss. The difference in their ages had bothered very few people. Sure, there was the occasional question or a mistake like just now, but for the most part the only person who had made it into a huge issue was Lila.

Her continued avoidance of Tasha was more than rude, it was cruel. He checked Tasha again, hoping her thoughts hadn’t drifted in the same direction as his. He didn’t want the memory of Lila’s stubborn betrayal of their friendship to have any part in this day.

Tasha focused on the clinician as she settled in her chair and rearranged Tasha’s top to access her belly. Max rolled his chair closer, watching with fascination. Nancy was great, and explained each step as she proceeded. Tasha cringed when the monitor touched her skin, and he found his fingers and hers linked together again. He held her hand, silently enthralled as images appeared on the screen. Black and white blurs sharpened into focus, and suddenly there were tiny hands and feet. A little rounded bottom. Perfectly formed miniature shoulders.

Happiness struck him like the broadside of a wave. It threatened to crash him to his knees, his blood pounding in his ears so hard he barely heard the rest of the explanations.

“Do you want to know what sex your baby is?” Nancy asked.

Max motioned for Tasha to answer. He’d already told her what he wanted, but it was up to her to decide.

She licked her lips, turning back to the monitor eagerly. “If you can tell us, we’d love to know.”

Max leaned forward. Yes. He’d hoped to hear. Okay, maybe he had a touch of OCD, but it would make things a lot easier for planning, especially prepping the baby’s room and…

He just wanted to know.

“All right, we’ll take a look. There’s a slight chance we won’t be able to figure it out, and please remember there’s a possibility we might be wrong.”

The sound of his breathing echoed loudly in his ears as he waited.

Nancy clicked her tongue and made complaining noises. “Little one, stop rolling away from me. Looks like someone’s pretty active right now.”

Tasha was the one who put his fingers in a death grip. “I don’t mind.”

“Hmmm, I think if we try from this angle…” Nancy reached around to the far side of Tasha’s belly, angling the sensor back, and wonder of wonders, the baby stretched. “Oh, there we go. I do believe I don’t see anything.”

Max couldn’t care less. Fine, he could paint the walls yellow and they’d come up with two sets of names. It didn’t matter not knowing—

“Which usually means you’re having a girl.”

The room spun.

On the monitor, their baby—his baby girl—rolled again, presenting her feet toward the monitor and losing the focus. To his left, Tasha made a cooing sound, something halfway between a cry and a sigh.

He held it together by a thread until Nancy had wiped the gel from Tasha’s belly, congratulated them both and left them alone. He barely managed to help Tasha to a sitting position before burying his face in her neck and letting the tears fall.

Tasha ached as Max wept, his arms cradling her tenderly. That something inside that longed for a love without end—that place she’d had tied up tight and hidden away fearing it could never, ever be—snapped wide open.

She’d been thrilled to see the baby. Every step of the journey made this experience more incredible, and more real to her, but right now it wasn’t just the joy of having seen her little girl that moved her.

Maxwell was tearing her heart in two.

It was the obvious love Maxwell had to share that made her tangle her fingers in his hair and hold him tight. She wished she could tell him she understood how he felt. That she had the same reaction when she saw him looking at her across the room with a smile on his face. She wished she knew the right words to use at this moment.

She wished she didn’t need to pee so bad.

Tasha tugged lightly to get him to back up enough she could kiss his cheek, tasting the salty moisture of his tears. “It’s okay. And I want to talk with you, but I’ve got to go to the bathroom or I’m going to have a terrible accident right here.”

Max shook with his laughter as he escorted her down the hall, leaving her with a pat on the backside. Tasha shut the door on his grinning face, torn between needing to share with him, and the feeling she was literally about to explode.

She washed up quickly, stepping with relief into the waiting room. He stood from where he’d been leaning on the wall, took her hand and they made their way back down to the car in silence. His hand was warm around hers, gentle. Someone stepped in their path and instantly he was there, guarding her from being bumped on the busy sidewalk.

He was always doing that, she realized. Coming forward to protect her. Making light-hearted jokes when someone spoke out of line regarding their ages, or her being pregnant so fast. Without making a big deal of it, he’d been acting like a knight and holding a shield before her to keep things running as smoothly as possible.

The smile he gave her as he helped her into the car—sincere as always, but with an added twist of mischief in it. That was what she’d always appreciated about him before they’d gotten involved. The way he seemed to thumb his nose at the world around him even while showing what was important to him.

There was no denying this baby was important to him. He’d said she was important as well. She grabbed for his hand and clutched it the whole way home, not willing to talk, still searching for what to say.