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
“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
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