Because Of Love

Startled, she sucked in a breath, her heart beating a tattoo in her chest, but she still couldn’t move. She refused to. Her breath came faster and her left hand went up to her neck, rubbing down to the exposed part of her upper chest then back up again to her neck as she forced herself to take deep and even calming breaths.

She went rigid when she felt his body brush up against her back. The breath from his lips was right at her left ear. She swallowed hard, eyes tightly shut; she held herself perfectly still. His forehead brushed against the side of her head, from her chin to her cheek and up to her temple. His lips quickly and lightly swept over her earlobe. Her knees buckled then and she bit down hard on her lower lip.

“Talia,” he whispered heatedly into her ear.

She swayed on her feet. She felt his hands on her waist. A light pressure followed as his fingers pressed into the sides of her abdomen, his thumbs into her back in a light squeeze.

She shivered as she felt his lips travelling down to her neck, barely touching her. Her head unconsciously tilted to the side and on its own accord; her body swayed back to press against his chest; her neck reaching up for more of his titillating touch.

Her eyes flew open but she stilled herself when she suddenly realized what she was doing, what she was allowing to happen and, most importantly, where they were.

Nope. This can’t happen. Especially not here. Wake up Talia!

She quickly pulled away from him, turned around and immediately stepped back, putting two steps distance between them.

Don’t look up, she commanded herself, keeping her eyes on his chest but that seemed to only make things worse. The wall of muscle seemed to push out and sink heavily as he heaved for breath. She looked up then and what she saw made her want to run. Desire. Unadulterated, ravenous desire shown in his eyes. He looked like he wouldn’t be able to take a steady breath until he sated that desire. But what direction was she to take? What would be the smart choice, and not the lust muddled one, or the fearful one, or one she might regret? As she stood there, staring at him, waiting for her to go to him, she was sure no matter what choice she made, there was bound to be some regret. So, which one would she regret less?

Forward.

A little voice she was sure was not the smart side of her brain urged her to move to him. It would be a mistake but he was right there, within arm’s reach. They both wanted this. Hell, she was going crazy from wanting him. They were both consenting adults, with no attachments – Please Aphrodite let him not have a girlfriend or wife back in Italy.

Once, she told herself. Just let it happen once.

But what if he did? The only thing she’d heard about his love – no sex life – was that he was the love them and leave them type. Was she really willing to be just another notch on his bed? Unremembered as a person but only as an attribute, saved in his black book as the black girl from the Boston office, a kind reference. Her heart hurt a little bit. What was his system? He must have a system, every Casanova did.

She jumped when a knock at the door came, breaking the tension. Without a word or a second thought, she hurriedly went around him and rushed out the door past Enzo as he stepped inside without sparing him a look. Her eyes were shamefully on the ground during her escape but she made sure to pull the door shut behind her.

Her hand still on the knob, she leaned against the shut door and let out a shaky breath. That couldn’t happen again.

“Oww Talia.”

Surprised, she turned to find Becky standing next to her. How long had she been there?

With a smug smile she said, “Something tells me you’ve been doing a little more than just playing tour guide to Signore DeLuca.”

Talia’s lips twisted in revulsion at how she said Signore DeLuca. Without bothering to give her an explanation, or acknowledging how close she was to the truth, Talia let go of the door knob and walked away. Nothing had happened between her and DeLuca, yet. And she knew, as she approached her desk, something was bound to happen and there was little she would be able to do to stop it.

“Hey.”

Talia immediately looked away from Carrie when she saw the concern on her face as Talia took her seat at her desk.

“You don’t look so good. Are you in trouble?”

Talia chortled an unnerved laugh. That was the second time she’d gotten that question. Yes, she was in trouble. Only, it wasn’t the kind of trouble they were referring to. But unlike the first time, she gave a different answer.

“Yes, big trouble,” she said, answering to the DeLuca kind of trouble. She felt Carrie tap her shoulder comfortingly.

“Don’t worry about it. You can handle it.”Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

Talia appreciated the vote of confidence. The bosses, sure, that would be a strong maybe that she could handle them. It was their mess anyway with very little to do with her.

It was the other thing that came packaged in Rafael DeLuca II. Could she really? She wondered with a heavy dose of anxiety, as she powered up her desktop computer.

****

Rafe stood perfectly still, his body trembling from the force he exerted on his muscles to remain in place. He knew if he moved even an inch, he’d chase after her, drag her back into the office and-and probably ruin her career. But he was tempted, merde; she tempted him to madness. It was good to know he wasn’t the only one who felt that crazy pull, that intoxicating need for each other. If she had taken that step…

With her back to him, he saw how much she fought it. Her hands fisted at her sides, her body rigid, and yet still trembling like she was standing out in the winter cold. Her clenching and unclenching right hand told him of the internal battle that was being waged between her erratic hormones and her common sense. It also told him she recognized how dangerous that pull between them was. If he didn’t do something about it soon, it was bound to drive him crazier than it already had.

He’d been beyond pissed when he saw Perez taking her to task over the surprise audit meeting. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and she was bound to suffer because of it. This conflict between wanting to protect her and doing his job was too new to Rafe and he found himself confused about his next move. At first he wanted to call her over and maybe comfort her and give her a quick out away from the middle of the cross fire, but the moment she looked at him, his mind went blank and he wanted something completely different from his original intentions.

It was why he called her over. It was why his blood pumped harder when she immediately went to him. It was why he hurriedly shut the door not caring how many eyes followed Talia in. He’d wanted to touch her, he’d wanted to kiss her, and he’d wanted to do a whole lot more than was morally allowed with a number of people on the other side of the door during work hours. The need to have her grew stronger each time he saw her. Soon he wouldn’t be able to control himself, no matter where they were.

When she refused to look at him, like a magnet, his body was pulled to hers. He took those few steps, closing the distance between them hoping, wanting her to make that final decision for the both of them, and for her to be the one to cross that line and put them out of their misery. It was like a prayer on his lips as he silently begged her to cross that line.

He couldn’t be the one to make that decision. He couldn’t be the one to start things. There was too much at stake, for the both of them. But if they did-no, not if, but when. It was clear that it was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened. When they did, it would be an experience that would stand out in his life and one he would want to repeat every moment of the day, he was sure of it. But the repercussions… he may be able to bear them, but could she?

The sound of the door latching closed made him bite down hard on his back teeth, his fists clenching tighter until they shook. She was gone and so was the moment. What was worse, she’d left but that damn scent behind. It still lingered around him, taunting him of what could have been, what almost was. The escaped opportunity to taste nirvana. Regret filled him at how close they’d come to sate this distinct thirst that only proclaimed itself when they were in close proximity. Animalistic anticipation boiled his blood for their next encounter.

“Signore DeLuca?” Enzo cautiously called from behind him.

“Enzo-” Rafe began but immediately stopped, feeling too exposed by the quiver in his voice. He coughed slightly to clear his throat and began again, “I can’t be around her anymore.”

After a short pause he responded, “Understood.”

“Don’t be an ass about it,” he warned.

“Understood.”