Raspberry Tart Terror (Murder in the Mix Book 30) Unknown (christmas read aloud .TXT) 📖

thought,” I whisper to Noah through a moan. “Maybe this wasn’t such a stupid idea.”

“The best part is, we can continue the endeavor once we get home.” He sniffs my neck as he says it, but I’m enjoying myself too much to reprimand him—or deny him the right to continue the endeavor once we hit the house.

Serena and Lainey come around and teach each of the coaches how to properly administer a rubdown in the event we were having some real deal hardcore contractions.

“You’re looking good,” Lainey offers her enthusiasm. “Noah, you’re really going to want to get in there when she’s in labor. Maybe make sure your hands stretch all the way down her back. You might want to try to rub her legs and feet, too. When I was in labor, I kept getting a charley horse right behind my thigh, and Forest spent hours between my legs.”

“Hours?” I muse. Funny how I chose to focus on that part of the conversation. I’m not touching the between the legs comment.

“That’s right.” She nods his way. “You’re going to have to build your endurance, too. Just make sure to give her a good rubdown every night. It’ll help her sleep better in the meantime. And who knows? You might get lucky yourself. This is Lottie we’re talking about.”

“Oh, stop it.” I give her a playful swat on the arm.

Serena and Lainey teach us a few simple breathing techniques to go along with that full body rubdown.

“Okay”—Serena blows her whistle once again until the din of conversations in the room quiets down—“I always close with what I like to call a trip to the bedroom. I’m guessing all of you have enjoyed a little bedroom time or you wouldn’t be here tonight.” A quick chortle circles the room. “I’d like to have a couple volunteer to come up and get comfy on this bed.”

“Oh, pick us!” I wave my hand as I smack Noah on the leg until he yanks me up to a standing position. “I’m just dying to lie on that thing,” I say as I waddle over with Noah in tow.

Serena has me lie down right over the spacious and cool crimson-colored comforter and it feels like bliss. My eyes close of their own volition. Another minute like this and I might just start snoring in a room full of people. Ask me if care.

“Who knows where this is going?” Serena asks with a note of excitement, and I lift an eyelid to get a better look at her. “That’s right. We’re going to give a few pointers on functional and practical positions while making love to your partner.”

“Whoa.” I try to get up, but my arms flail and my backside doesn’t lift an inch off the mattress.

“Noah”—Serena steps aside—“why don’t you lie next to her and demonstrate the side by side position.”

“But—” I begin to protest as Noah glides next to me.

“Don’t worry, Lot. We’ll wing it.” He wedges himself close to me and both Serena and Lainey work to put us together in a plausible spooning position.

Come to think of it, I think we were doing just this last night. With our clothes on, of course. I hope.

“This is so not what I envisioned,” I whisper to him.

“That’s funny”—Noah mutters—“this is exactly what I envisioned.”

Serena and Lainey work to land us in a few other comprising positions—with me in his lap facing one way then the other. The next thing I know, I’m on all fours while Noah bumps his business against my rear, much to the delight of the crowd. But before I can blush properly, my legs are hoisted over Noah’s shoulders while he plays crouching tiger, hidden fifth appendage with my nether regions.

I can’t even see Noah at this point, but judging from the laughter bubbling around me, he’s doing something funny down south. And, oh my word, I think he just bit my inner thigh.

“Noah.” I laugh as I scoot up on my elbows.

“All right”—Serena taps him on the shoulder and Noah stands once again—“last position of the night.” She and Lainey have Noah stand close to the edge of the bed while they hoist my legs straight up his body with my feet popping up around his ears while I lie flat on my back.

I’m actually quite familiar with this position because it happens to be one Everett and I have utilized more than once. I’m not sure why, but there’s just something comfortable about lying back while Everett does a majority of the work. It’s only fair. Once the baby is born, my guess is, I’ll do a majority of the work—in the traditional sense, of course.

“Okay”—Serena pushes Noah’s body into mine—“this is a good one because your partner can really get in there like the good old days.” She gyrates Noah’s hips into my backside until soon enough he takes on a rhythm of his own.

“Look at the eye contact you can have,” Lainey chimes in. “If you like the lights on, this one is for you!”

Noah keeps up with his rutting movements, and to be honest, it sort of feels like a massage all on its own. My eyes close as I let out an involuntary moan. Noah has always been pretty good at thrusting.

A set of footsteps stomp their way in this direction, and no sooner do I hear Lainey gasp than my lids fly open and I see Essex Everett Baxter blink to life in a wool coat over jeans. His hair looks dewy from the shower, his beard is neatly trimmed back to mere scruff, and his bright blue eyes siren out like a couple of warning lights.

“What the hell is going on?” He takes a moment to glower at Noah. “Never mind.” His lips flicker my way. “I think I can take it from here.” Everett gives Noah a shove and my legs end up latching over his body instead, and I swear on all that is holy, about six different women just