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Authors: Kaitlin Maitland

Tags: #Erotica

Strung Out (3 page)

BOOK: Strung Out
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“If you’re going out with Prince Charming, I hardly think you want to be dragging a violin and a cello into a bar with you.”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Just help me get a cab, would you?”

 “Are you insane?” Desiree hissed. “Or do you really not care about the Colton Electronics merger?”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. Everything is fine.”

Erik opened the limousine’s door and tried to usher his sister inside. But Desiree was determined to stand in the doorway and give him a piece of her mind. He sighed. There was no arguing with her until she had her say.

“You do realize Courteney watched your little interlude with our cellist, don’t you?”

“Does it matter?”

“Do you really think it’s wise to piss her off?”

His lip curled with disdain. “She and her father may eventually nail my balls to the wall and force a proposal out of me to seal this merger deal. But for now I’m still operating on my own terms.”

“If you go out with this woman, they’re going to use it to get the upper hand.”

He shrugged. “That I can deal with. It may cost me a few thousand in jewelry to make it right, but that’s acceptable.”

Desiree’s feminine features softened. “Why are you willing to risk all that to spend one evening with a woman you barely know?”

“She makes me laugh.”

There was a moment of silence before his sister shook her head in wonder. “Who the hell are you, and what did you do with my brother?”

“Enough, Desiree. Go home, organize these gifts, and start the thank-you notes like a good girl.”

“Go fuck yourself, Erik.”

“Wow, sounds tempting. You first.”

He shut the car door on his sister’s angry retort.

“Actually, it sounds physically impossible. Maybe you should take the gifts home yourself if it makes her this upset. I wouldn’t want to cause trouble between you and your sister.”

Talia’s husky voice caught him by surprise. Erik turned to find her less than a dozen feet away, leaning against the doorjamb. She’d pulled a simple black chenille sweater over the narrow straps of her dress and slung a small handbag over one shoulder.

“Ready to go?” Erik asked as soon as he could trust his voice.

She shrugged, the gesture sending a lock of her hair cascading over her shoulder. “I am if you are.”

The picture she made standing in the doorway sent a jolt of realization through Erik. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. It was a woman in a doorway. But it was also more. The light in her brilliant blue eyes, the warmth of her smile, and everything else about the way Erik felt when he was around her made it more, made him
want
more.

“Come on then.” Erik held out his hand, eager to feel her skin to skin again. “Let’s get a cab.”

“Where are we going?”

“I know a bar.”

“You know a bar?”

He laughed, tugging her down the steps to the curb where a valet already had a cab waiting. “You can’t picture me in a bar?”

“I’m not sure. Don’t guys like you stick to wine tastings or nightclubs?”

“Wow, ‘guys like me’? Ouch.”

Erik watched her slide into the cab and settle. There was no bitching about the smell or how dirty it was. She simply sat. He slid in beside her and shut the door, hyperaware of their close proximity in the small backseat.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“Eleven blocks, a place called Jack’s.”

The driver offered a gap-toothed grin. “I know the place.”

* * *

It was definitely a bar. The lighting was dim, and the air smoky. A jukebox blared in the background, and tables full of people in various stages of inebriation filled the long room. A massive bar stretched the entire length of one wall, gleaming bottles of every kind of liquor imaginable shelved against the shining mirrored surface behind it.

“Aasen! It’s been months, man. Where’ve you been?”

The rough voice was coated in a thick Bostonian accent, the kind you got from living every moment of your life in the city. It belonged to a burly lump of a man with a clean-shaven head and the body of a pro wrestler. A single gold hoop gleamed in each of his ears.

Erik slid onto a bar stool, Talia hopping up beside him. “Good to see you, Nicolai. How’s business?”

Nicolai scratched his angular jaw. “Excellent, but hard times call for hard drinks, ya know.”

“Nicolai, this is Talia.” Erik offered her a reassuring grin. “Nicolai and I go way back. He’s a good man to know when you’re in a tight spot.”

“Is that so?” She tried to imagine any possible tight spots that could involve both Erik and a man like Nicolai.

“What can I get you, pretty Talia?” Nicolai asked, setting his big hands flat on the bar.

“What do you have?”

“A little bit of everything.”

Talia cocked her head to one side, wondering what the best course of action might be in this situation. “I’ll take one of whatever you want me to have.”

The low, rich laughter told her neither man had missed the double entendre in her request. As Nicolai left to get their drinks, Erik’s gaze raked her body. A thrill of anticipation shot down her spine.

“Should I ask how you ever managed to hook up with Nicolai?” She shifted so that she could see his face.

Erik considered her question. “Let’s just say even rich boys can be bad boys.”

“Are you really considered a bad boy when you can buy your way out of trouble?”

“Sure. Don’t forget that money is the root of all evil.”

“I think I’ll wait and reserve judgment for when I actually get some.”

“On that topic, what is it that you do for a living?”

“Meaning you don’t believe I can support myself by playing gigs like your mother’s wedding?”

“I know my mother’s wedding planner didn’t leave much room for musicians in the budget.”

“Actually, I was filling in for a friend tonight. I don’t normally play with a string trio.”

“So it sounds like everything that happened tonight was a freak accident.” Erik reached out and snagged the bottle Nicolai had set before him. He leaned back against the bar and took a long swig of beer. Idly toying with the bottle, he stared at his hand.

“I guess it sort of was.” Talia slanted Erik an appraising glance from beneath her eyelashes. The man was too attractive. There had to be some flaw, some imperfection that would render him normal. His tousled dark hair stuck up in the back, and his goatee was starting to get a little scruffy. Unfortunately those things made Talia wonder what he looked like when he got out of bed in the morning.

The truth was that she was kidding herself. The man was perfect.

There was no denying he was built like a god. Though he was covered in a custom-tailored suit, Talia’s imagination eagerly conjured up visions of the lean muscle and golden skin that no doubt hid beneath the expensive cloth.

She reined in her wild thoughts. It was ridiculous. She was not the kind of girl to fall in love with a stranger, much less go to bed with him.

“So back to my question. What pays the bills?”

Nicolai chose that moment to place a drink before her. It had a pretty pink color and came in a martini glass with strawberries instead of olives.

“My special martini,” he offered.

Talia sniffed the glass. It smelled fruity. “It’s called?”

“Prickly Pear Martini.”

Both men watched as she took a tentative sip. The tart flavor washed over her tongue, the vodka leaving a dry trail in its wake. It had a delicate flavor Talia could quickly learn to enjoy.

“It’s good, Nicolai. Thanks.”

The big man grinned. “I’ll catch up with you two later.”

“I teach music,” Talia said when Nicolai walked away.

Erik nodded. “Public or private?”

“Boston School for the Arts, although I have a dozen or more private students as well. And you—what do you do for a living?”

“What makes you think I’m not old money?”

“I’m certain you
are
old money, but you
aren’t
the type to sit around and do nothing all day.”

His face broke into a smile, and he took another long pull of his beer. “That is true.”

“And yet you’re hanging out in a Back Bay bar in a twelve-hundred-dollar Armani suit. So do tell.”

“Have you ever heard of Aasen Technologies?”

“No.”

“Okay, what about Aasen Investments?”

“No.”

“Okay, let’s try the New York Stock Exchange.”

“Yup, that one I might’ve heard of.”

“The other two are divisions of Aasen International, which is an openly traded stock on the Exchange.”

“I’m going to take a wild stab and guess you’re heir to the family business.”

“That would be a safe bet.”

He was smiling, sort of. One corner of Erik’s sensuous mouth tilted upward in a crooked grin that was just as drop-dead sexy as the rest of him. But behind his sexy bachelor grin lurked something else Talia couldn’t put her finger on. Why was he telling her this? It would’ve been easier to say he worked in the family business or even that he was a CEO at the family corporation. Why the name-dropping? Was that what he thought would impress her?

Talia met his uncanny green eyes and smiled. “That sounds really boring, Erik. What is it that you actually
do
?”

Boring? That sounded boring?

Erik experienced an odd sensation when he processed her comment. He couldn’t be certain if it was shock or the sound of his pride taking a beating. Only one thing was certain. The name Aasen International had never before failed to inspire admiration in anyone, let alone a woman.

Say something like that to the average woman, and she started calculating your gross monthly income.

Then again, Talia Davies wasn’t your average woman.

Erik gazed into her eyes and smiled, thinking about board meetings, acquisitions, accounting issues, mergers, and business plans. But when he opened his mouth to list a few of the things he did every day, something different came out.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “It is boring.”

She laughed, the husky sound washing over him like a hot wave of lust mixed with something he’d never experienced with any other woman.

“You’re used to women falling all over you. Am I right?”

He watched her sip her drink and savor the taste as it flowed across her tongue and down the pale column of her throat. Gently setting her near-empty glass on the bar, Talia tilted her head to one side and slipped him a heavy-lidded look from beneath her dark lashes.

“I will, you know.”

Erik was surprised to find he could still speak. “Will what?”

“Fall all over you. Any way you like.”

A shot of adrenaline mixed with hot lust fired his blood, going straight to his groin and fully hardening his cock. Erik shifted, his slacks suddenly unbearable against his raging hard-on.

“But,” she continued, “this has nothing to do with your last name.”

“Then what, exactly, does it have to do with?”

Talia put her glass to her full lips and drank the last few swallows of the pink-tinted martini before setting it aside. She slid from the bar stool to the floor, her heels boosting her height just enough that her head was level with his chest. Erik watched, mesmerized, as she tilted her head back and gazed silently into his face. Beneath her clinging chenille sweater, he could see the outline of her firm, round breasts rising and falling with each breath.

“Ask me in the morning,” she said softly. “I might have an answer by then.”

Chapter Three

There was a man in her apartment, a stranger. She should’ve been terrified. Instead, Talia’s excitement was all-consuming. Well, that and her pure, unadulterated lust.

Erik pivoted once to take it all in. It didn’t take long. Her place wasn’t that big. His gaze drifted over her ancient upright piano and the music stand sitting in front of the studio’s wide windows. Several battered practice instruments rested on their stands near the piano. The tiny kitchenette was cluttered, the sink overflowing with dishes and several cabinet doors hanging open.

Talia’s cheeks flushed. “I’m not much of a housekeeper.”

His eyes flickered over the dingy green secondhand sofa and rested meaningfully on her queen-size bed. “No, it’s perfect.”

Her breaths were coming faster, heart pounding until her pulse hammered in her ears. This wasn’t like her. She didn’t do these types of things. She was careful, purposeful. It had taken Dylan months to prod her into a physical relationship and even longer to convince her to accept his proposal. So given her history, how was this possible?

This was all about animal attraction and raw need. It was time to leave her inhibitions at the door and take the opportunity he was offering.

She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. Erik was watching, waiting to see what she would do.

She pulled her sweater over her head, tossing it onto the already cluttered sofa. Slipping her thumbs into the straps of her simple dress, she sucked in a deep breath. She could count the number of people who’d seen her naked on one hand. Growing up as a music geek hadn’t exactly left her with a surplus of confidence. But this situation was different. Erik Aasen was different. This was one night. After what she could only anticipate as mind-blowing sex, she would never see him again. So did it really matter what he thought of her body?

The dress didn’t drop to the floor in a silken waterfall. That only happened in the movies when the sexy heroine decided to bare her perfect body to her suitor’s eyes. Instead, she wriggled it down inch by inch over her curves until she could step out and drape it over the arm of the sofa beside her sweater.

A wave of goose bumps trickled over her skin. Left only in her bra, panties, black stockings, and heels, Talia was painfully aware of Erik taking in every inch of her body.

Before her courage could desert her, she walked boldly toward him. She reached for his tie, loosening the expensive silk knot and making quick work of the buttons.

“You’ve got too much clothing on,” she whispered.

“Is that so?”

“Definitely.”

She pushed his jacket over his arms, tossing it lightly on top of her clothing. He pulled his tie over his head and added it to the pile. A look of predatory anticipation glittered in his green eyes.

BOOK: Strung Out
9.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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