Strung Out (12 page)

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Authors: Kaitlin Maitland

Tags: #Erotica

BOOK: Strung Out
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Talia’s eyelids fluttered closed. “It’s crazy between us, Les, like some weird magnetic attraction. All he has to do is look at me and I melt. Even when I want to be mad at him.”

“That’s because you guys had incredible sex. You’re just oversensitive to it because your sex life with Dylan had more blah than blam.” Leslie’s expression turned speculative. “Was he really
that
good in bed?”

“You don’t get it. It wasn’t because it was great sex. You can have great sex with a vibrator. We had a real connection.”

“That kind of stuff only happens in cheap romance novels, Tallie.”

“No, it happened. I know it did because he felt it too. He just didn’t know what to do about it.” She thought of the moments she’d spent watching him sleep, his dark eyelashes thick against his cheeks, and his face devoid of the tension he seemed to carry around so often. He was a puzzle, a man with two sets of desires who was so used to getting what he wanted that he couldn’t see the conflict he created.

Leslie reached out and touched her shoulder. “What makes you so sure he felt anything? If any other guy had done this to you, we’d be sitting here making up synonyms for asshole in his honor.”

The worst part of hearing Leslie’s opinion was knowing her friend was right. In any other situation, they’d have been ripping him apart. But this was different. This was Erik. “He asked me to stay. He was going to give me his house in Beacon Hill, a car, money—everything I asked for.”

“You mean he asked you to marry him?”

“No, I think he would’ve still married Courteney.” Talia swallowed, hating the next words. “He asked me to be his mistress.”

“You love him.” Leslie squeezed her eyes shut briefly. “There is no other possible explanation for why you’d forgive an insult like that one. But how could you let this happen?”

Let it happen? A surge of anger nearly stole her breath. She hadn’t let it happen. But wasn’t that what love was really like? It was a force of nature. It wasn’t safe and predictable.

Leslie pulled her close and hugged her hard. “Don’t you see? This is the answer. Go to New York, Tallie. Forget him and do something for yourself.”

Chapter Eleven

Monday morning at Logan International Airport in Boston, Massachusetts, is never a pretty thing. Ticket counters are packed with customers trying to convince airline staff to allow just one more bag. Security lines stretch and wind their way into complicated spiral patterns designed to cram twice the number of people into half as much space. And travelers are forced to carefully check over the latest list of items on the no-fly list before discarding half of their toiletries into the trash bins. Thankfully Talia was traveling light. One small bag packed with clothing and personal items, and her violin case.

She should’ve been pleased. In fact, she should’ve been dancing on air. She had an audition with the New York Jupiter Symphony Orchestra. This was a dream come true. It was what she’d always wanted. But as she watched the rolling suitcases ahead of her trundle closer and closer to the metal detectors and bag screeners, Talia felt cheated.

Erik’s insensitive offer had taken all the joy out of this incredible opportunity. Because no matter how much she tried to focus on the upcoming audition and what it might feel like to play at such a phenomenal level, she couldn’t stop thinking about Erik.

How could someone so smart and sexy be so callous? He didn’t make any sense. It was as if he were two different people. Her Erik was the one who played her body as though it were his personal instrument. Every inch of her skin longed for his touch. Just imagining the way his body angled before he thrust deep inside sent a slippery heat curling through her belly.

But when he’d spent himself and pulled away, it was as though he changed into another person. Between the sheets it didn’t matter how much money he had. The only things that mattered were the heat in their blood, the sweat of their skin, and the feel of two people who were perfectly matched.

The line crept forward. A couple several paces ahead started arguing about the best way to fold up their little boy’s stroller. Bored, people turned to watch the domestic drama play out. The man muttered something while trying to break free a latch of some sort. Thirty seconds later the stroller quivered once before collapsing to the floor. Both started laughing. The man pulled the little boy’s mother into a hug and whispered something into her ear that caused a flush to creep up her neck. It was obvious the little guy would have siblings before too long.

Life was so unfair. Why could everyone else find their perfect match?

Succumbing to a masochistic moment, Talia imagined Erik and Courteney grappling with a stroller while their angelic offspring cavorted around them. A hard chuckle slipped out before she could bite it back. If Erik and Courteney traveled with children, there would be a legion of nannies to take care of mundane tasks like that. Not to mention the private jet they’d most likely charter for the occasion.

A businessman standing behind Talia jostled her forward. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Startled, Talia turned to see a swarm of photographers heading in their direction. They were focused on someone who was being escorted to the front of the security line. Two Secret Service wannabes ushered their charge onto the other side of the barrier to avoid the reporters.

Murmurs rippled through the line, and the man behind Talia snorted. “Regular people have to stand in a ten-mile line. But some B-list celebrity gets bumped to the top just because she has an entourage. This is what’s wrong with the world today.”

Several TSA employees headed over to begin the security screening, and Talia got a glimpse of a tiny woman with long ebony hair and huge sunglasses. She wondered what the celebrity had done to become famous and whether or not it was worth all the hassle. Talia couldn’t imagine being hounded for a picture.

“Now what?” the man snarled as he twisted in the opposite direction.

A commotion at the end of the line had caused everyone to lose interest in the celebrity, photographers included.

“Who’s Talia?” someone called down the line, others relaying the question. “He’s looking for some chick named Talia.”

She froze, her violin case slipping from numb fingers and landing with a crash on the tiles. Her breath stuck in her chest; her pulse pounded inside her ears. She forced a deep breath, and then she heard him.

“Talia! Talia Davies!”

Warmth flooded her body, sending a riot of chills over the surface of her skin. A low pulling sensation began below her belly, focusing at a point between her legs. It was impossible to hear his husky tone and not remember the sound of it lifted in ecstasy as their limbs twined together and their bodies reached fulfillment.

“Hey, lady, you okay?” The man behind her put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re white as a sheet.”

A sea of strange faces and every one of them looking at him as though he’d lost his mind. And maybe he had. How else could one explain the transition from cool, unaffected businessman to lovesick lunatic searching an airport full of strangers for one woman?

He strode the length of the security line, eyes searching for a face and form he’d have known anywhere. It was a given that he looked like a crazy person. He’d discarded his suit jacket and tie in the car between the Boston School for the Arts and the airport. A breath of cool air against his bare skin told him his shirttail was hanging out, and he’d practically yanked out his hair while trying to convince Talia’s friend Leslie to tell him where she’d gone.

“Hey, lady, you okay? You’re white as a sheet.”

Erik zeroed in on the concerned voice buried half a dozen paces away in the middle of the line. He stopped, angling for a better view. A tall man dressed in a tailored business suit was focused on a woman standing just in front of him.

The details were hidden behind a dozen other travelers and their belongings, but Erik glimpsed a curtain of dark hair, shapely shoulders, and the graceful arch of her back as she stared determinedly at the floor.

“Talia!” He lunged forward. “Talia, please give me a chance. Just listen to what I have to say!”

The entire line seemed to hold its breath. Everyone stared, their eyes darting back and forth between him and the woman who was refusing to look at him.

Finally she lifted her gaze, though she kept it carefully averted. “There’s nothing left to say, Erik. We want different things.”

“No, we don’t.” His hands clenched, wanting to draw her closer and cup her face in his palms, to force her to meet his gaze and see the truth in his eyes. “You were right.”

She canted her head sideways, and her hair fell away, exposing enough of her face for him to see her eyebrows knit together in consternation. “I’m not going to share, Erik.”

“I don’t want you to.” He hated the desperate note in his voice, but the time had passed for hiding behind appearances and indifference. “I want you, Talia. It’s all I want. I don’t want you to share me. And I sure as hell don’t want to share you.”

“God, would you just get out of line and talk to the guy?” The businessman rolled his eyes. “This is like a scene from a really bad chick flick.”

“Shh!” A nearby woman waved her hand. “I want to hear what she says.”

From the corner of his eye, Erik noticed two or three photographers with cameras slung over their shoulders, notepads in hand, and a predatory gleam in their eyes. This entire incident was going to be splashed across the society page in no time.

“Marry me, Talia.”

“What about Courteney?”

A collective hiss came from the women scattered throughout the crowd.

Erik shook his head emphatically. “I told her it would never work. I couldn’t do it anymore. I love you. I want you to be my wife. The rest of it doesn’t matter.”

The hiss morphed into sighs and a round of encouragement. The first camera shutter clicked on the moment.

“I can’t marry you. I’m moving to New York.”

“Then I’ll buy a ticket and follow you there.”

She turned fully around to face him, her head tilted to one side and a skeptical look on her face. “Then what?”

“I’ll follow you around and keep asking until you say yes.”

A smile played at the corner of her mouth. “Is
that
how you’ve gotten your way all these years?”

He placed a hand over his chest and gave her his most charming smile. “You got me. I built Aasen Investments on a firm foundation of whining and banging my head against a wall.”

The rest of the cameras started flashing, and Erik realized he’d just identified himself and waved a red flag in front of the proverbial bulls.

“So what happens if I say yes?”

“We go home and celebrate?” He watched her face ease into a playful grin. Her blue eyes were bright. An answering wave of excitement sent a rush of blood to his groin, and his head filled with images of exactly what would happen if she said yes.

She stooped down, picked up her violin case, and looked up at the businessman blocking her path. “Could you excuse me?”

She squeezed her way back through the line. People had stopped paying attention to whether or not they were getting closer to the security checkpoint, and a gap had opened up ahead, causing the TSA employees to crane their necks to see what was going on.

She bent over to slide beneath the barrier. The nylon tape caught on her jacket, tugging on the fabric and exposing a strip of pale skin at the small of her back. He reached out and lifted the black nylon away from her body. She moved again, and his fingertips brushed her bare back.

The contact was fleeting, but the jolt of awareness leaped through him. Talia straightened, turning and looking him full in the face. Her breath was coming quickly, her chest rising and falling in rhythm with his. Her pupils dilated, and her throat contracted as she swallowed. She didn’t have to confess the arousal that had begun creeping over her body. He saw it, recognized it, and felt the answering response inside his own.

The violin case and her bag hit the floor. “Ask me again.”

So many thoughts and emotions crowded his brain. He hadn’t thought he possessed that many. But this wasn’t the time for giving in to the urge to rush. This was forever.

He placed his hands on her sides, his palms finding the bare skin where her shirt and jacket met the waistband of her low-rise jeans. She was warm, but his fingertips raised gooseflesh when they skimmed her curves in order to pull her closer.

She reached up and cupped his face in both hands. Her soft fingers tickled against the stubble on his chin as she slid her hands up his jaw before pushing her way into the hair at his nape. The feel of her nails scoring the sensitive skin on his neck sent a chill racing directly from her fingers to the tip of his cock. He ground his teeth together to bite back a groan. This was neither the time nor the place to strip her naked and sink his cock in her pussy just to remind her who she belonged to.

There would be time enough for that later. Plenty of time, if things went the way he’d planned.

With that thought, Erik disentangled himself from her embrace, took a step back and knelt down on one knee. He thought of how many times he’d dreaded being pushed to this point. He hadn’t been nervous about it then, just resigned. He hadn’t even figured on taking a knee. But now, kneeling in an airport before an audience of complete strangers, his whole world was on the line. And the answer mattered more than he’d ever thought possible.

“You took me by surprise, Talia. I never expected to meet someone like you.” Erik chuckled and gave her a devilish grin. “And before I do something else stupid to screw it up, I’m going to do one thing right and beg you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

Chapter Twelve

“What would you have done if I said no?”

Erik rested his head against the rounded edge of the bathtub. It was nothing to rehash some of the wilder ideas that had flitted through his brain earlier when he’d been almost certain he’d lost her for good.

Now that he lounged in a cocoon of warm water with Talia nestled in his arms, his earlier desperation seemed almost comical. “I’d have dragged you out of the airport by your hair, brought you back here, and fucked some sense into your stubborn head.”

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