CHAPTER 26
Rafe stood, stretching from the chair he’d been glued to for over ten hours now, and turned to sit on the desk, his back to the closed door, as he watched the sky turn a burned orange through the floor to ceiling glass wall that had always been behind him. He always ignored it, but now it had his full attention. He never once looked out of this glass wall and at the beautiful view it provided since he arrived. He always had the shutters down and the lights and air conditioner turned on for light and air circulation.
Why exactly was that?
He wasn’t one to get distracted easily. He also wasn’t well known to pay attention to things he believed inconsequential or not worth his time. He snorted sadly at himself. He was too busy with important things to waste his attention. But now, with this deep hole in his chest, he wondered if it would have made some difference if he’d just paused once in a while.
He sighed heavily, as he looked out at the concrete jungle, wondering if before, he’d ever even once, stopped working and just looked out the window. In fact, what was outside his window at his office in Italy? His brow pinched as he tried hard to remember, but absolutely nothing came to mind. He was sure it was situated in the best part of Rome and next to the water because his father only wanted the best for himself, but… he just couldn’t remember what was outside his window.
Was this it? The reason why he felt everything was closing in on him, suffocating him? The fact that he hadn’t taken even one minute to just stay still and look around him? He wasn’t sure which analogy fit best, being buried alive or drowning in work and his responsibilities. All in all, he was being robbed of breath right out of his lungs. He swallowed hard, feeling the telltale signs as his heart began to ram against his rib cage like a bull charging it’s pen door eager for freedom.
Maybe it was time he put down that immense ego of his and talked to someone. Things haven’t felt right in a long time and he needed to figure it out before they got worse. He was Rafael DeLuca II for hell’s sake! It took a lot of effort to step outside of his father’s shadow, to be himself, to coin a name for himself and curve it on the wall of the most respected businessmen in the world. All that effort couldn’t go down the drain because of a nervous breakdown. Just the thought of losing everything because he couldn’t control this need to break out of the cage that his body had become, made his throat constrict as his collar tightened around his neck.
He yanked his tie down forcefully and kept his gaze focused on the ball of fire descending behind the tall buildings, knowing that what seemed like a stone’s throw away, was the wide open waters that had become his refuge. Freedom, calm, peace. He closed his eyes and imagined himself on his yacht, out in the vast smooth waters surrounded by the ocean breeze. He took a deep breath and his body deflated, the tension disappearing, the sound of his heartbeat wild and erratic in his ears getting slower and lower, as it faded away, and suddenly, he could breathe again.
This couldn’t keep happening. He needed to fix this before it happened in a room full of people. But hadn’t that already happened? Or to be precise, almost happened? He sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging like a punctured tube quickly losing air.
His body immediately stiffened when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Whomever it belonged to had a light touch – no, a seductive touch. Definitely not Talia.
He felt her shift to stand in front of him and that was when he opened his eyes. When had she come in? How long had she been there? How had he not heard the door open?
“And who might you be?” he asked blandly, staring at the pale blue eyed woman, her red lips pushed out in what was meant to be a seductive pout.
If this was before, way, way before, his dick would be rising to the invitation of those red lips already. He would be buried deep inside her, hiding from and exorcising the demons that plagued him, stealing a few moments of forgetfulness. Oblivion. But sadly, nothing. Another victim of his messed up head.
But no, that wasn’t correct. He did rise to the occasion but only for one person. His dick twitched then at the memory of the last time they were together. What had almost happened, what he had stopped from happening even though he was dying for it to happen, but something in him wouldn’t let him. He was afraid of using her like he had all the other women, like he would like to with the one offering herself to him at that moment. To forget. But Talia, she wasn’t a tool, she wasn’t faceless. She was way too imposing, prepotent in the way she walked, talked and even glared to fade into the countless directory of one night stands.
Talia…Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.
Her name sang in his mind as the memory of how turned on she was was filling his head. He closed his eyes so he could relive that moment. Her heaving breasts right under him. Her gyrating hips as he fought to rip his own running shorts off her. He had completely lost his mind with want for her. He never thought the t-shirt and shorts looked good until they were on her. Until this very day, they were where she left them, on a bed he hadn’t dared to occupy since she last slept in it. Merde, she had been ready and willing for him. He could smell the arousal coming off her, even at that very moment, that sweet scent filled his nostrils and he unconsciously took a deep breath.
For days the angel and the devil on his shoulders had been going at it: one calling him an idiot for letting that opportunity of a lifetime go by, a night that promised boundless pleasure after a very long dry spell after countless bland nights, and the other commending him on not crossing the line, for not using her like he’d done countless other women. But hell, he was dying to taste her, to have her!
“I could help you with that if you like?” she said, moving to stand between his legs, her hands moving up and down his thighs, close to his crotch.
He opened his eyes and watched as – what was her name?
“Who are you?” he asked roughly, his voice heavy laden with desire for another woman.
Her head turned up from where she had been staring at his bulging erection to face him wide eyed. Her eyebrows shot up higher in what he read as disbelief and she blinked several times before she answered, “Becky.”
Clearly, she expected him to know who she was. Had they met before? Something about that name rang familiar but he wasn’t quite sure what. He slowly stood from where he sat on the desk and moved around her to stand by the glass wall.
“What do you do here?” he asked, grateful that the arousal had cleared from his voice.
From the twitches of uncertainty on her face, he could see her coming to the realization that the situation had changed and she wasn’t in a very good position at the moment. It was time for her to recover and backtrack before she truly crossed that line. But as quickly as that moment of hesitation had come, it disappeared and made way for a sultry look of determination. Clearly her plan of action was a full force seduction attack as she slowly swayed her way to him, pressing her large breasts against his chest.
“Right now, I want to do you,” she said, biting her lower lip as she looked up at him from under her thick eyelashes.
People always relied on what had always worked for them before. How many times had she done this and how many had taken her up on her offer? What had she gotten in return, unless she was a crazed nympho? Clearly, she was expecting him to do the same, so it was safe to say she hadn’t batted zero, yet.