Strung Out

by Kaitlin Maitland

  “No, sir.”

  Sunlight washed over the wall of windows directly opposite his desk. The glass blazed with color for no more than a moment before the sun shifted position in the sky. It was fleeting, but for the span of two breaths it dazzled his eyes with beauty.

  Like Talia.

  He ground his teeth together and closed his eyes to the view out the window. “Send Mr. Colton in.”

  The man must’ve been pacing right outside the door because it swung open the minute Erik gave the order. The expression on Colton’s face could’ve cut glass. His mouth was set in a thin, firm line, and his eyes were ice-cold.

  The instincts that had seen Erik through a hundred business deals were screaming at him to play this one slow and careful. “Have a seat, Rupert. Can I have Anita get you some coffee?”

  The older man made no move toward the chair, choosing instead to stand with his feet braced apart. He fiddled with a yellow envelope in his hands. “We won’t stay long.”

  “We?”

  Erik had barely gotten the word out when Courteney swept through the door. She set her designer handbag on his desk and propped her hands on her hips. “‘We’ as in me. You and I need to talk.”

  Erik Aasen was a lot of things. Stupid was not one of them. It was obvious why Courteney was in his office, Rupert in tow. She was essentially making good on her threat from the party. The two of them were standing before him for what they might have called an “intervention.” His label for it was “meddling.”

  Courteney’s expression hardened. “I’m still waiting for that proposal, Erik. And yet I get the feeling you’ve been having second thoughts about following the plan.”

  He should’ve been planning his strategy, developing an ironclad way out of the mess he’d managed to make of his personal life. Instead, he took a long look at the woman who had decided to campaign for his hand in marriage.

  Courteney Colton was what every magazine in Western culture said a man should want. Long legs, narrow waist, and dressed to the nines in designer clothing. Between that and her picture-perfect hair and makeup, she looked like a mannequin from the window at Macy’s. Unfortunately that was a comparison that worked across the board for Courteney. The only passion in her life was money, and her desires revolved around power and influence.

  A hazy image of Talia’s lush, fuller figure whispered through his mind, and his cock stirred to life.

  He could still see her naked on his bed. His hands remembered her curves and the warmth of her skin. His lips recalled the softness of her nipples even as they beaded into hard points against the rasping of his tongue. And he longed to hear her gasp in pleasure as he spread her legs and positioned his cock to slip inside her tight sheath.

  “Erik! Are you even listening to me?”

  He shifted in his chair to keep his pants from strangling his cock.

  She made a disgusted noise in her throat. “Show him, Daddy.”

  Rupert sighed and opened the envelope he’d been holding. Erik wondered if he was doing this because he really gave a damn or because he wanted his daughter to quit pestering him. The latter was more likely.

  Rupert tossed a stack of photos on the desk. “An investigator took these over the weekend.”

  Until that moment Erik had not realized how raw he was inside over Talia’s leaving.

  The first photograph had been taken outside the restaurant where they’d had breakfast. She’d just gotten out of the car without letting him open the door for her. Their hands extended toward each other, bodies naturally drawing together. Her smile was infectious, and though it wasn’t visible in the photograph, he knew it lit her eyes and made them shine. Unable to resist, Erik trailed one finger across the photo.

  Tearing his eyes away from Talia’s image, he glanced at himself and was stunned to note the matching smile on his face. He didn’t remember smiling. In fact, he often made it a point not to run around with a goofy grin on his face. But while he was with Talia, he forgot about things like image and self-control.

  “Didn’t I specifically tell you to be discreet?” Courteney snapped.

  Erik picked up the photos and shuffled through them quickly. Most were shots of them outside the restaurant, though there were several of the two of them entering the Beacon Hill house. Not a single one was damning. There weren’t erotic photos of the two of them making love or even sharing a kiss on the sidewalk. In short, the Coltons didn’t have shit.

  Too bad he didn’t care.

  “I know who she is.” Courteney tossed one last picture down on his desktop. “I’d just appreciate a little more discretion.”

  “Under the circumstances, I think an expensive engagement party will smooth things over.” A smirk lingered in the corner of Rupert’s mouth. He figured he’d finally gained the upper hand with Erik.

  “I’ll contact you by the end of the week with the details.” She was still talking. He’d just stopped listening.

  The last photo was a close-up of Talia as she walked out his front door. He’d been on the phone with Courteney, trying to pacify her, which he’d obviously failed to do. Erik hadn’t even realized Talia had left the house until he’d gone looking for her once he’d managed to get rid of Courteney.

  The black-and-white photo of Talia was striking. A breeze blew strands of her dark hair across her face, and one graceful hand was reaching up to brush them away. What caught Erik so forcefully was her expression. He’d expected relief, or at least resolve. But he’d never expected to see tears.

  She’d cried when she’d left him.

  So why leave? He’d offered her a chance to stay, to be with him. He had wanted her to stay. More than he’d admitted to her. More even than he’d admitted to himself. So why go?

  Courteney was still talking, stabbing her index finger in his direction. Suddenly something she said sliced through his inattention. “I’m not some tramp from Southie who trades her body for a few presents. Either you respect me or you pay the price.”

  Of all the things he’d expected from Courteney Colton, enlightenment hadn’t been one of them. But in her tirade, Erik suddenly saw how his offer must’ve seemed to Talia. Corporate flunkie with money offers to keep her in style as long as she keeps spreading her legs.

  “Enough!” His sudden outburst had the desired effect. Courteney shut up, and the look of triumph receded from her father’s eyes.

  She backed up a step, her mouth opening and closing as though she couldn’t settle on a response.

  “Rupert, this business deal could be lucrative for both of us. But I’m no longer willing to give up my freedom for it. So either keep it business or walk away.”

  Something flickered in Rupert Colton’s gaze, and the older man reached up to scratch his chin. “You might want to rethink that.”

  “I might, but not now.” Erik reached for his cell phone and stepped out from behind the desk in the direction of the door.

  “Excuse me?” Courteney made a wild gesture with her hand. “I’m not done here.”

  “It doesn’t matter if you’re done. I am.” Erik walked away, already thinking over possible apologies to the woman he never should have allowed to leave his life.

  “Erik?” There was a plaintive tone in her voice.

  He paused in his office doorway. “Whether you realize it or not, Courteney, I’m doing us both a favor. You’ve made it readily apparent that you’re not here because of an emotional attachment to me. At least this way you’ve got a chance to share your life with someone you actually care about.”

  * * *

  “Where in the hell have you been all weekend?” Leslie grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. “Don’t you ever listen to your machine?”

  Talia was already suffering from her restless night. Fighting back a yawn, she offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to duck out on you. I didn’t even remember we had plans.”

  “Not me. Ms. Warren wants to talk to you.” Leslie grabbed Talia’s hand and began towin
g her through the crowded hall toward the headmistress’s office.

  A lump formed in Talia’s belly. She thought of Saturday night’s birthday party at the Coltons’. Surely Courteney hadn’t called to complain about her.

  It was crowded in the hallway. Classes hadn’t started yet, and students were milling around, chatting about their weekends. She wished she were still a student, when everything had seemed so promising. In fact, she wished for anything from before she’d met Erik. She’d even go back to being Dylan’s meal ticket.

  Leslie shoved open the door and pulled her inside. The office was like a time warp. It looked exactly the same as it had on the day she had first come and applied to be a student.

  Faded posters advertising concerts and music education seminars hung on the yellowed walls. A potted palm plant sat on top of a dull green filing cabinet in one corner, its leaves leaning toward the narrow windows just behind the imposing wood desk.

  She took one of the two hard-backed chairs facing the desk and tried to calm her racing heart. Inhaling deeply, she caught a whiff of the peppermints sitting in a cut-crystal dish on the desk corner.

  Leslie plopped into the other chair. “She wandered in this morning, Ms. Warren.”

  Considering her friend’s excitement, Talia began to doubt she’d been called in to get yelled at for flirting with the groom-to-be.

  Ms. Warren took a folder from her desk drawer and opened it, offering a pleasant smile. Talia had always liked the headmistress. She was in her late sixties now and just as elegant as she had been the first time they’d met. The cut of her suit flattered her light complexion and the dark hair peppered with gray.

  She pressed her fingertips together and offered Talia a warm smile. “I’d intended to give you the weekend to think things over. But now I’m afraid you have no choice but to act quickly.”

  Was she being fired?

  Ms. Warren seemed to sense her unease. “It’s a rare opportunity and a privilege to be asked.”

  “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Ms. Warren’s eyes widened. “I apologize for the confusion; I thought Leslie would’ve told you all about it.”

  Leslie shook her head and bounced in her seat. “I wasn’t sure if I was allowed.”

  “I see.” Ms. Warren looked so intently at Talia that she wondered if the older woman didn’t somehow know she’d spent the entire weekend having fantastic sex with a guy who wouldn’t commit to anything but a booty call. “I’ve known you a long time, Talia. I’ve seen you grow into a wonderful musician. And I must say I’m pleased to tell you that you’ve been offered an audition with the New York Jupiter Symphony Orchestra’s violin section.”

  Talia’s mind went entirely blank. It was beyond anything she’d expected to hear on such a dismal morning. In fact it was the chance of a lifetime. She should be leaping for joy, but a part of her balked at the idea of leaving Boston. After all, Erik was in Boston.

  Ms. Warren smiled. “You’ll need to make a decision as soon as possible, Talia. They’ve put you on a flight out of Logan Airport later this afternoon.”

  Leslie rolled her eyes. “Of course she’ll go.”

  Talia could feel the older woman sizing her up. It wasn’t easy to hide something from the shrewd headmistress on a good day, much less a day when Talia already felt as though she were strung out.

  The headmistress slid the folder across the desktop. “All the information you’ll need is right here. Whatever you decide, notify Miss Dawes on your way out so she’ll know whether or not to make arrangements for your classes.” She stood, smoothing her straight skirt. “I’ll leave the two of you to talk things over. Important decisions like this one are rarely that cut-and-dried.”

  Leslie managed to wait until the door had closed behind Ms. Warren. “What is going on with you?”

  Talia broke beneath her friend’s concern. She thought of Erik. Of his laugh, his kisses, the softness of his hands when they touched her body, the feel of his naked skin against hers, and the exquisite sensations that touched her soul when they made love. Tears stung her eyes, and she put her face in her hands.

  “Tallie, what’s wrong?”

  “I spent the weekend with Erik.”

  Leslie inhaled sharply. “So I’m guessing you two hooked up at the party on Saturday night?”

  “It’s a little more complicated than that. Apparently he’s already in a relationship. Sort of.”

  “How can you be ‘sort of’ in a relationship?”

  “Everyone expects him to marry the daughter of one of his business associates.”

  “Obviously he’s having second thoughts.” She slumped back into her chair. “He was way into you that night. The guy was about ready to hump your leg.”

  “He was still into me even after the truth came out. And let me tell you, this woman is a real piece of work.”

  “Maybe you should just let her have him then. Is it really worth all this?”

  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 ah
ead 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.