Strung Out

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Strung Out Page 11

by Kaitlin Maitland


  She lifted the ebony lid of the Kawai grand and caressed the smooth white keys. It had been hard to leave Erik this morning. He’d lain stretched out on his belly, the sheet resting just above the curve of his ass. Her hands had wanted nothing more than to run the length of his spine, following the slight dip as it traveled upward to the nape of his neck where he was so sensitive to her lips.

  “So he convinced you to stay.”

  Talia turned at the familiar sound of Leslie’s voice. “He offered me the world. How could I say no?”

  She put one hand on her hip and cocked her head. “It’s easy. Maybe you need to stand in front of a mirror and practice.”

  “If you feel that way, why did you tell him where to find me?”

  She heaved a big sigh and plopped down on the piano bench. “I don’t know. I think I knew it would turn out this way, even though I hoped you’d decide for New York.”

  Talia wondered where this sense of inevitability had come from. She’d never been one to believe in split-second emotional decisions. She liked to weigh things out and go slowly. But right from the start she’d felt as though she and Erik were on a runaway train.

  “So when’s the big day?” Leslie crossed her legs and bounced her foot.

  “We haven’t set one.”

  “If I were you, I’d convince him to elope.”

  A flicker of unease settled in the pit of Talia’s stomach. The lavish birthday party hadn’t been more than a taste of the extravagant parties and eventual wedding the typical socialite planned for these occasions. That kind of party was the norm in Erik’s social strata. But it wasn’t at all the way Talia had expected to exchange her vows.

  She shook off her doubts and forced a smile. “I have to go talk to Ms. Warren. Are you coming with me or not?”

  Leslie rolled her eyes. “Of course I’m coming. I’m dying to hear you explain how you so wisely chose love over the fulfillment of your lifelong dream.”

  She grabbed Leslie’s arm and tugged her out the doorway. “You know, I think they have an opening in the drama department that would be perfect for you.”

  “Speaking of drama, what’s going on down there?” Leslie slowed their pace as they approached a knot of students at the end of the hallway.

  One of the students pointed out the window. “There’s a bunch of reporters down in the courtyard.”

  The cluster of students shifted and changed places as each tried to get the best view. The school’s campus was made up of four brick buildings clustered around a courtyard that gave access to the street. By standing on her toes, Talia could glimpse a news crew setting up right beside the big tree at the center of the courtyard.

  “Maybe someone’s getting a recording contract!” One of the young men jostled his friend and jerked his thumb at one of the other students. “Why else would we make the news?”

  * * *

  “What were you thinking?”

  Desiree’s demanding voice was accompanied by one of his shoes. The Italian leather thunked against the headboard before falling to the bed and narrowly missing his head. Erik rolled over and sat up, putting his hands to his face and trying to rub the sleep from his eyes.

  “Oh. My. God. Put some damn clothes on. I don’t want to see that. I’ve got enough to do without adding therapy sessions to exorcise the image of my nude brother from my mind.”

  Erik growled. What was her problem? “If you don’t want to see me naked, get the hell out of my bedroom!”

  Deciding to emphasize his point, Erik stood up. Desiree snarled some unintelligible insult before retreating to the hallway in order to continue her tirade.

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

  “No. But I’m sure you’re about to tell me.” He ducked into the closet. “Did you see Talia on your way up? She’s supposed to be here.”

  “No, I did not see Talia on my way up.” There was an unusual amount of venom in her voice. “Not that it matters now that you proposed in front on an entire airport full of witnesses and half a dozen B-rated paparazzi. Are you trying to make us the butt of every joke in Boston?”

  He strode out of the closet and flung open the bedroom door. The staccato sound of the door hitting the wall was punctuated by the sound of his zipper. He didn’t bother trying to button the pin-striped dress shirt before going toe-to-toe with his sister.

  She aggressively shoved her chin forward and hardened her expression. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d rather see you happy than leg shackled to that hell bitch Courteney, but this is the first time you’ve ever lost your head over a piece of ass, Erik. What the fuck is going on?”

  If she’d been a man, he would’ve hit her. But Desiree was his sister. And that much alone meant he owed her some kind of explanation.

  She slapped a newspaper across his chest. “Our lovely mother came home from Cabo last night. Guess what she’s going to peruse while taking in breakfast this morning?”

  Erik fumbled the paper with fingers that had gone suddenly numb. His mother preferred the Herald over the Globe. She claimed they had a better eye for news that affected Boston’s most important citizens. What he held in his hands made it difficult to judge whether she was right or wrong.

  The Herald’s editor had placed a color photograph of Erik down on one knee before Talia in the middle of Logan International Airport above the fold. If that wasn’t bad enough, the headline soured his stomach.

  BOSTON BUSINESSMAN CHOOSES LOVE OVER MERGER

  His body temperature dropped suddenly, and he tore open the paper, not bothering to read the story below the catastrophic headline. The story didn’t matter.

  “Shit.” He folded the business section and tried to remember that Aasen Investments had recovered from worse.

  “Why, Erik?”

  He’d almost forgotten Desiree was in the room.

  “You’re not the type to fall in love.”

  Love. Was it love? Did love even exist? And if it did, would he be able to distinguish between love and lust? Lust sent blood surging into his groin every time he thought about the sweet scent of Talia’s wet pussy. Lust left him breathless while his hands cupped her full breasts and his tongue tingled with the desire to take each puckered nipple into his mouth.

  Lust he understood.

  “Erik!” The tone of her voice told him she’d said his name more than once. “Tell me why you’d do something so drastic just for Talia.”

  “Because there was no other way to keep her.”

  “She’s not a dog, Erik. You can’t hide her under your bed and hope Mother doesn’t notice. Tell me you realize what kind of shit storm this is going to cause.”

  He wasn’t naive. He’d known the consequences of his actions even before that last awkward conversation with the Coltons. “This is important to me, Desiree.”

  She sighed deeply. “All right then. I’ll see what I can do about damage control.”

  He gave her a quick hug. “Thank you.”

  “Give me at least an hour. And you’d better follow my lead with Mother. Some of us still have to live at home, you know.”

  Erik hurriedly buttoned his shirt, scooped his car keys and cell phone from the table, and turned toward the stairs. From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Desiree’s determined expression. His sister was a lot of things. Clever was at the top of the list. And there was no one better qualified to ease Talia’s way into their family. But the ramifications of the newspaper article wouldn’t be one-sided. And Talia couldn’t possibly have anticipated the media that would be waiting to rip her up and feed her to Boston’s society wolves.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I must tell you that I think you’re making a very foolish decision.”

  Talia wondered if the shock she felt inside was splashed across her face. She was working hard to keep the polite smile pasted in place, but the headmistress’s words made it next to impossible. Talia had respected this woman since she’d first set foot inside the school. And considering her
association with the school had lasted far longer than any of her foster situations, that said a lot.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Ms. Warren. But I promise the decision wasn’t made lightly.”

  A wry smile pulled at the older woman’s tightly pressed lips. “Given my perspective, every decision made at your age is done in haste. I can only hope that when you reach my age, you won’t have irreparable regrets.”

  Ms. Warren cast a look outside to the courtyard where the first news crew had been joined by another. She inhaled deeply and picked up a newspaper from her desk. “There is the media circus going on outside to consider.”

  “Leslie and I wondered about that earlier.” Talia was relieved at the change in topic. Better to get Ms. Warren thinking about another student on the way to a promising career than to have her dwelling on Talia’s missed opportunity. “Is one of the students being offered a contract?”

  Ms. Warren handed her the paper with a tight smile. “Not exactly.”

  It took a moment for the photo of herself and Erik to sink in. “This is front-page news?”

  “If the headline is anything to go by, I would think so.”

  A lump lodged in Talia’s throat, and her mind drifted back to the airport and the B-list celebrity hounded by photographers while she hid behind bodyguards and dark glasses. Surely this wasn’t what life with Erik would be like. He wasn’t a celebrity. He was a businessman.

  Ms. Warren turned her back on Talia and walked to the window, arms folded across her chest. “I can’t have this sort of disruption at my school. It isn’t fair to the students or the other teachers.”

  Talia’s palms began to sweat, and she fisted them against the rough material of her jeans.

  “I had already made arrangements for another teacher to fill in for you while you were in New York.” Ms. Warren’s voice took on a hint of regret. “I think it would be best for all involved if I made that a permanent change.”

  Her equilibrium shifted, and Talia clutched the back of a chair for support. She was being fired because she’d chosen a life with Erik. Every fiery breath burned with the emotions raging behind the composed exterior she fought to maintain.

  “I’m sorry, Talia.” Ms. Warren turned. Her calm expression masked the paleness of her complexion. “If things should change, you are always welcome here.”

  In other words, if she’d give up Erik and the insane notion that she could be happy living a life in his world, she could come back to her humble teaching position. She closed her mouth on all the things she longed to say. Ms. Warren didn’t get it, just like Leslie hadn’t.

  She loved Erik. And somehow that was going to be enough.

  “Please excuse me.” Talia didn’t wait for a response. She turned and left the headmistress’s office.

  She couldn’t go back to before. And there was nothing left inside the school for her. But pushing the doors open and stepping outside to face the news crew was harder than she’d thought it would be.

  Cold air buffeted her face, stinging her cheeks and watering her eyes. It wouldn’t be long and the air would be bringing icy mist off the bay as Boston sank into yet another frigid New England winter.

  It wasn’t a long walk from the main building to the front gates and the bus stop beyond. But this was the first time Talia had ever tried to make that walk through a gauntlet teeming with predators.

  The reporters were milling about the courtyard, talking in low voices to each other, or yakking into cell phones. For some reason Talia had yet to understand, they had multiplied again. Where there had been a single pair when she and Leslie had first spotted them that morning, now there were at least twenty people loitering about the gate. Pulling her coat close, she aimed her face at the ground and started to skirt the group in an effort to remain unnoticed.

  “Talia!”

  Erik strode in and cast a look of annoyance at the media, a wily fox giving a pack of hunting hounds a once-over before casually dismissing them. He’d obviously been in a hurry. He wore no tie or jacket over the hastily donned dress shirt and slacks. His hair had the look of a man who’d rolled directly out of bed, leaving a lover behind.

  Except I’m the one who left…

  She couldn’t stop herself from reacting to the sight and sound of Erik calling her name. It didn’t matter that she needed to keep her head down to remain as inconspicuous as possible. His voice elicited an immediate response. It was the same voice that whispered wicked, intoxicating words during sex. A voice that wound around her consciousness, hardened her nipples, and made her pussy warm and wet.

  “Mr. Aasen! Are you aware that Rupert Colton has publicly stated the merger between Colton Electronics and Aasen Investments has been called off?”

  “Is it true you’ve broken off the engagement with Miss Colton in favor of another woman?”

  “Why did you propose to Talia Davies?”

  The questions were rapid-fire, aimed with the hope of getting some sort of response out of Erik. When he didn’t immediately reply, they grew more inflammatory. Talia hadn’t known him for very long, but even she could’ve told them Erik Aasen wasn’t a man to be backed into an impromptu interview.

  “Talia!”

  She knew the moment he spotted her. Something in his voice changed, and the tone became almost a physical caress against her skin. Circumventing the reporters, he reached for her, pulling her into his embrace.

  “Don’t leave like that again,” he whispered in her ear.

  When she would’ve responded, he squeezed her closer. Her mouth snapped shut, and she looked up, meeting his green gaze and lifting an eyebrow in question.

  A wry smile kicked up the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get you out of here, and then we can talk.”

  The girly part of her brain thrilled at the hero rescuing his damsel in distress from the evil media hellhounds. The rest of her was an independent woman who wanted to throttle him for thinking she couldn’t handle the words no comment on her own.

  Tucking her into his side, Erik swept back toward the front gates less than a dozen paces away. In the windows facing the courtyard, Talia glimpsed the curious faces of her former students and colleagues. No doubt they thought the world had gone crazy. And maybe it had.

  A particularly determined reporter shouldered his way to the front. “Mr. Aasen! Just one statement, please!”

  Erik paused only long enough to shoot the man an icy smile. “A representative of Aasen Technologies will be making a statement shortly. I have no comment until then.”

  They approached the front gates. The Corinthian columns on either side of the entrance made it difficult for the swarming reporters to follow. A scuffle broke out, and everyone was momentarily distracted by deciding who got through first.

  A limo sat by the curb, the engine idling like the purr of a kitten ready to pounce. The lock clicked, and Erik yanked the door open. Before Talia could make a move, he’d managed to shove her in, climb in behind her, and slam the door on the rabid newshounds who were now watching their evening special-interest story speed away down Boston’s narrow streets.

  Erik heaved a giant sigh and stabbed his fingers through his hair. “Take us to Brookline, Jake.”

  “No problem, Mr. Aasen.”

  Talia glanced around, trying to find the disembodied voice of Jake the driver. Having nothing but a handful of movies for reference, she figured the driver must be concealed behind a window between the front and back that could be closed to give the passengers privacy.

  Erik pegged her with his gaze. “He can’t hear us, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “I suppose that’s good,” she mused. “Unless this is the part where you murder me, chop up the pieces, and throw them into the bay.”

  “Definitely not that part”—his eyes smoldered—“although I might consider a spanking.”

  She whisked her tongue along lips that felt suddenly dry. The constant electrical current between them flared to life. Her body softened, longin
g for his touch. Silken wetness pooled in her pussy, and her nipples beaded into hard little points. The sexual charge in the air burgeoned until the only thing that mattered was finding out how many erotic positions were physically possible in the cramped space.

  The seats in the limo formed a sort of L shape. One side housed what looked like a bar, complete with flat-screen TV, refrigerator, and laptop docking station. Seats were upholstered with soft calfskin leather, and the floor sported nicer carpet than her apartment. To top it off, the ceiling was mirrored, which gave her a weird sense of spatial distortion.

  He leaned forward. “I’m not used to waking up in an empty bed.”

  His choice of words chilled the heat in her blood. She scooted onto a seat across from him. It was something in his tone and expression. She could’ve let it go, but she’d been straight with him since the first night they’d met. Now wasn’t the time to stop. “No, you’re just usually the one doing the leaving.”

  “Okay.” He had the brass to smile at his admission. “So I’m generally the one doing the leaving. That doesn’t make me any happier that I woke up alone this morning.”

  Talia stiffened, arousal mingling with anger. The devilish gleam in his eye told her he was baiting her on purpose. But the fact remained that he believed there was a grain of truth in what he was saying. “So I can’t go anywhere without telling you first? Is that it?”

  “You did agree to marry me.”

  She sucked in a deep breath, tasting a not-unpleasant mix of leather from the seats and Erik’s sandalwood cologne mingled with the male scent she’d come to identify as his own personal fragrance. “And that makes you boss?”

  “I guess you could call me the CEO of our relationship.”

  Talia no longer cared how much privacy they really had in the back of the limo. She toed off her shoes, unzipped her low-rise jeans, and shimmied them and her cotton undies down her legs. Her jacket landed on the pile, and she was left in a V-necked cotton shirt and a simple bra.

 

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