Strapped

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Strapped Page 25

by Nina G. Jones


  The house is full of appetite inducing aromas as the roast cooks. Taylor lets me know he is on his way home earlier than usual. He has been working at the office a lot more lately and it’s wearing him down. I don’t tell him about the dinner to keep it a surprise.

  “What is that amazing smell?” he says as he walks into the living room. His tie and shirt are already undone.

  “I used that ancient book of secrets you have in the kitchen.” I give him the once over. “That Holden Industries guy is running you ragged.”

  He smiles with his eyes closed from exhaustion and throws himself of the couch. “Business is good Shy. With the Russian deal coming through, thanks to you, and the Chinese increasing their imports, H.I. is swirling. I would probably be a lot saner if I still had you there to keep me grounded.”

  “One, that deal had nothing to do with me. It was all you, Henry and Liz. Second, me working for you was fun while it lasted, but it will never happen again.”

  “Well, things should go back to their normal level of insanity in the next two months or so. Negotiations are a bitch.”

  I serve up our plates on the breakfast bar. Mentioning Henry reminded me that I should extend the peace pipe. I also haven’t gotten around to calling Lizzy and I feel like an asshole for it. “Speaking of H.I., we should reunite the gang. I miss our nights out.”

  “I assumed you were done with Henry.”

  “I am over it. We were drunk and he didn’t know about us. Does he know about us?”

  “He kind of figured it out on his own. He put two and two together.”

  “And Lizzy?”

  “I think she is sharp enough to know. But I won’t discuss that stuff with her. She’s like my sister. That’s all you my darling. By the way, delicious. Absolutely delicious. Hey, how did the interview go?”

  “I don’t want to get too excited, but I think it went really well. They said they would call in a few days.”

  “Who interviewed you?”

  “His name is Chad Lemmings. Do you know people at Rubix?”

  “A handful. Not this Chad guy. You should probably run a background check on your superiors.”

  “Oh don’t be ridiculous!”

  “I am not being ridiculous. They run one on you, don’t you think you should know about the people you work for? You would be shocked the things you can find out about people. Criminal records, avoidance of child support payments...”

  “No one does that. No one, except maybe a paranoid millionaire.” He shrugs his shoulders as a takes a sip of his wine. Background checks, perfect segue to ask him about Eric.

  “Hey, speaking of security, do you know someone named Eric?” He puts down his glass as soon as the words come out of my mouth.

  “Eric? Why do you ask?”

  “It’s probably nothing. I was eating lunch and this guy sparked a conversation with me. I told him I was dating you and he said worked with you a long time ago. He made it clear you weren’t close friends of anything, I just thought it was a coincidence.”

  “Did you get a last name?”

  “No...he was tall. I guess he is in his thirties. Light brownish, dirty blond hair.”

  “You really shouldn’t have told him that you were dating me.”

  “Wha...What? I thought we were past that.”

  “No, I mean you need to be selective about who you tell your business to.” He shakes his head with mild frustration. “This is my fault. You’re not used to living like this...you have to be careful. Maybe I should have an escort with you.”

  “An escort? Are you kidding me?”

  “It’s not you that needs watching, you have to be careful who you divulge information to from now on. You may be naive about this, but people have tried to steal from me before. Telling strangers you are dating one of the richest men in the US can attract seedy characters. Things will be different for you from now on and for me. I have never had to worry about someone else before.”

  “I don’t see you walking around with escorts.”

  “What do you think Harrison does?”

  “Harrison?” I laugh mockingly.

  “Yes. He may seem like a polite chauffeur to you, but he is a former Navy Seal and Secret Service officer. He packs heat every where we go and pretty much only leaves my side when I am at H.I., which is secured, or at home, which has a great security system.”

  “I had no idea. I thought he was Mr. Belvedere.” Taylor’s face goes from stone cold to a faint smile when I say this.

  “Well, he has many talents.”

  “This is all besides the point Taylor. This Eric guy was not some sort of psycho. He was very nice and he has his own security firm or something. I mean, he is the person that protects people like you.”

  “I’ll bet. Just watch what you tell people. Seriously. If I hear about anything fishy, I will have Harrison on your ass like white on rice.” The threatening text messages immediately flash into my mind. Should I tell Taylor? He just threatened to get me a security detail and that will seal the deal for sure. I am just going to continue to keep that one to myself.

  Taylor is very quiet for the rest of the night. I want to believe it’s because he is tired, but I know that’s not the reason. This lifestyle is so new to me. I had no idea people have threatened him or tried to attack him. I always thought he wanted to keep the relationship a secret for the same reason he kept his other relationships a secret. I had no idea that telling people about us could ever put me in danger. Still, when it comes to this Eric guy, I do think he is overreacting. He was just a guy trying to pick up a girl at a bar. Taylor heads to bed early, insisting I leave the dishes in the sink for the maid, but I clean them anyway. By the time I head into the bedroom he is asleep.

  ***

  My eyes shoot open and I feel around the bed for Taylor, but he is not there. The only things I can see are the large red numbers coming from the digital clock on the nightstand: 3:23. Where is he? I feel my way out of the room. The kitchen and the great room are both empty. Maybe he received a late night call from the office? The office light is off. I begin to feel a sense of panic. I need to calm down. There is no way he would have been kidnapped beside me without me noticing.

  Eventually I head to the lower level. I begin to hear the faint sounds of heavy breathing and surfaces pounding from a distance. I follow the sounds to his gym. The door is just slightly ajar. There is just enough room for me to peek in with one eye. He is hitting a heavy bag really hard. Kicking and punching, nearly screaming as he does it. His eyes are filled with rage and he is pouring with sweat. This isn’t a normal workout. He is angry. I haven’t seen him this angry since the day I found his book. I want to step in, but this is a private moment. I go back to bed, but can’t sleep. I stare at the red digits on the clock, watching as each minute passes. 4:15. He is still not back. Should I go back? I am paralyzed with indecision. I don’t want to smother him, but I know if I don’t insist, he won’t tell me a thing. Overcome with a sense of resolve, I shoot up out of bed, stumble in the dark to the door and march down the hallway to the staircase.

  “Shy?”

  I let out a yelp.

  “Taylor, you scared the bejesus out of me.” He is standing in the kitchen covered in sweat, drinking from a bottle of water.

  “Likewise. The way you were just marching was something fierce, and we all know you must mean serious business to be up this early, sleepyhead.” My resolve melts from his playful tone.

  “Sleep is good for your health. You should try it. Why are you up?”

  “Woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Sure about being unsure?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Just insomnia I guess.”

  “Did you take your meds?”

  “I dozed off before I could. I don’t like taking them in the middle of the night, they mess me up the
next day.”

  “Is something bothering you?”

  “No. I am fine.”

  “I think you’re lying Taylor. I saw you in the gym, you look pissed.”

  “You were watching me?”

  “I woke up and you were gone. I was worried after you told me people are after you.”

  “Shy, we’re safe here. And people aren’t after me. People have been after me in the past, and now I am cautious.” He walks up to me and presses his sweaty bare chest against my body. “Sometimes I just can’t sleep because of my issues. I don’t want you to worry about that though. The boxing helps me feel in control again.”

  “Issues? You mean the night terrors.”

  “Sometimes, but sometimes it’s just my anxiety.”

  “Is there something that is making you feel more anxious than usual?” He stiffens.

  “I want to make sure I don’t put you in harms way because of your association with me.”

  “Taylor, I am fine. Like you said, that was all in the past. I’ll be careful now that I know about the risks. I promise. Unless there is something you’re not telling me?”

  “Nope. I need to go shower and then I think I’ll head to work early so I can get back home early to you.”

  “Okay,” I say hesitantly. I don’t want to leave him alone. I want to be with him when he is having his bad moments, not just during the good times. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  “Shy, I am fine. I swear.”

  With that, I go back to bed feeling the loneliest I can remember since the day I found the journal.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  That afternoon, I get a message from Taylor, whose name I replaced yet again in my phone as a half-assed attempt to protect his identity.

  Mr. Sexypants:

  2323 State Street. 1:30. Wear the outfit in the garment bag in the guest closet please.

  I Google the address and it is a regular residential building. It’s just after noon so I head to the closet to find the garment bag. Inside is a red lace bra, panties, garter and thigh-highs. A Post-it on the garment bag reads: “Shoes in the box below. Nothing over the outfit except your trench please.”

  I open the box and there are sky-high patent leather red stilettos. Butterflies of excitement and anxiety flutter in my stomach. I can’t imagine wearing only this under my coat. The urge to deny his request flies over me for just a moment, but then the thought of the look on his face seeing me in the lingerie quickly erases the doubt. I apply the same red lipstick I wore to the interview. This time however, I let my hair out, wild and full of volume, just the way he likes it. I remember one last thing:

  Shyla:

  Pls do NOT send Harrison. I would die of embarrassment.

  Mr. Sexypants:

  Ok ;)

  I pull up to the building. It is on a quiet dead end corner on the southernmost end of the downtown area, interspersed with other residential buildings and industrial warehouses. I get the closest available spot and walk to the front door, but it is locked. He didn’t give me an apartment number and there are dozens of buzzers to ring. As I stare at them nervously I feel someone’s presence behind me.

  “Good lord Taylor. Do you always have to sneak up on me?”

  “It’s just too easy. I can’t help it. Here, let me get that.” He pulls out a key that opens the front door.

  “So can you tell me what we are doing here or is this a secret?”

  “I own this building, that’s why I chose it. For what? You’ll see.” We hop into the elevator. He slides his key into a keyhole hits the top button on the 20th floor. He looks incredible for someone who got so little sleep the night before. His hair is slicked back, and he is wearing a perfectly tailored navy pinstripe suit with a light blue shirt. The top button is undone and he has forgone the tie, so he must not have any important meetings today. A warm flush radiates through his slightly olive complexion. His long lashes flicker up and down, reminding me of a butterfly calmly perched on a flower. His pout looks so soft, inviting me to kiss. I can’t help it. I want to be close to him. I felt so distant from him last night. I push him against the elevator wall and devour him. I can see his eyebrows rise, startled by my aggressiveness. He pulls down my trench, knowing what I am wearing underneath it. I hear the faint sound of the elevator door glide open. I try to pull away, thinking someone could be on the other side of the door, but he pulls me back towards him. He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his hips. His lips taste like sex. While I am not fully aware of our surroundings, I see that the elevator doors open directly to a large apartment. The trench is still hanging off of my shoulders and he puts me down for a second and looks me up and down. He grins.

  “So hot. Come with me.”

  I let the coat slide to the ground and he pulls me towards the balcony. My steps slow to a complete stop.

  “No one can make out our faces up here, if they even notice us, but the rush will feel incredible. This neighborhood is really dead during the day.” I didn’t know he was an exhibitionist too.

  My face is covered in worry.

  “Trust me. If you don’t like it, we can stop, but just try.”

  We step out on the balcony. The entire thing is made of concrete, even the barrier, so no one directly below could see us, but the building across the street can, and anyone down below at an angle could make out our top halves. There is a slight chill in the air and I feel my goosebumps rise. I lean my back against the barrier and watch Taylor rip off his jacket. He unbuttons just enough of his shirt to vigorously pull it off overhead. His abs ripple and contract with each breath, his firm erection nearly busting through his pants. He grabs me underneath my arms and picks me up, sitting me on the edge of the balcony. I flinch.

  “Stay calm. I’ve got you. Wrap your legs around me.” I can hardly swallow or catch my breath. The stimulus of sitting on the edge of a 20th floor balcony coupled with the unbearable attraction to the man in front of me is more than this young heart can handle. He quickly undoes my bra. My instinct is to cover my breasts with my hands, but he gently pulls them to my side, kissing them and gently biting on the pale skin of my breasts. He works his way down my stomach and inner thigh. I can’t lean back as far I normally would, so instead I push my hips forward so that I am only half sitting on the barrier making it easier for Taylor to access me. Taylor has his hands on my hips keeping me secure. My lace panties are very thin, and so without removing them, Taylor runs his tongue on my clitoris. The underwear serves as a buffer between his tongue and me, allowing him to pleasure me longer without setting me over the top. Images of other men watching me, admiring my sexuality make me partly nervous, and partly stimulated. I feel like a fucking sex goddess in the sky.

  “Turn around.” The excitement and nerves go up another level. Now I can see the world below and across from me. I can watch the people watching me. I see what seem like hundreds of windows across from me. Many shades are drawn. I can barely see a woman moving about in her kitchen, oblivious to what is occurring a hundred feet across from her. The occasional person walks by the street below, going through the motions. If they would just look up, they would see my dark brown hair and my breasts and the beautiful tall man behind me. He inserts himself. He runs his hand into my hair and grabs it tight at the roots. His other hand cups one of my breasts. My toes barely graze the floor because our height difference. He takes my hand and places it on my ass.

  “Feel what I feel. Slap it.” I do. The softness of my own body turns me on. He puts his hand over mine and we both squeeze. I can feel him being turned on by this and it empowers me. I slap myself again. I squeeze a handful very hard. He takes his hand and rubs my clit as he bounces his hips off of my ass. He doesn’t thrust in and out, just maintains constant friction and before I know it, I can feel the rush building down below. My moans become louder and louder and he covers my mouth and nose. I don’t even try to breathe, I welcome the intensity as I come and come and come. Taylor’s not finished. He turns me around
and pushes me down to the floor. His hard, throbbing cock begs for me to suck on him and I oblige, solidifying my powers as a sex goddess.

  As usual, after our particularly kinky romps, I feel dirty and shy. I quietly grab my trench coat and see that I have a voice message. It is Chad from Rubix requesting I give him a ring. More nerves. I go to a quiet corner and call.

  “Chad speaking.”

  “Hi Chad. It’s Shyla Ball.”

  “Hi Shyla! How are you?”

  “Great.” If he only knew just how great. “And you?”

  “Doing well. I am calling because I want to offer you the position. I think that your skills, but more importantly your personality and work ethic, will fit right into Rubix.”

  “Wow. That is great to hear!”

  We discuss salary requirements and other logistics. I do not accept immediately as a rule of thumb, but I tell Chad I will let him know within the next 24 hours.

  I find Taylor on the balcony. My face must be glowing.

  “You got the job didn’t you?”

  “Yes!”

  “Congrats! I had no doubt. Let’s head inside, this neighborhood has seen enough of us today. So did you accept?”

 

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