Because Of Love

“I don’t follow.”

Yeah, Talia was just as confused. In the hours they spent having marathon sex, there were moments she felt him with her, like their souls were meddling, flying together. Then there were moments where she felt like he wasn’t there. He would be looking right at her as he moved inside her but he wasn’t present. He could have been anywhere and with someone else while he was physically with her. At those instances, when she met his blank gaze, she too would be pulled out of the moment as questions bombarded her head only to get chased away by a soul shattering orgasm. Present or not, the man knew how to pleasure a woman. Oh yeah, she thought self-deprecatingly, by his own confession she was one of many, so his skills in that area were honed.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

Though she was feeling a little betrayed and used, she couldn’t help but think about the reason why. The distant deer caught in headlights look in his eyes as he mumbled incoherently to himself flashed in her head. He had looked like a completely different person, almost unbalanced and it had frightened her to the point she shook him, speaking loudly to him to regain his attention. And then, like a snap of her fingers, he was back to being Rafael DeLuca, sure confident arrogant Rafe, and the moment passed, pushed behind a new wave of lust.

“Talia?”

“Something is wrong with him, and apparently… I’m the only one he could get it up with,” she confessed only that, feeling the rest of it, his mental state, wasn’t hers to share.

Carrie snorted her disbelief. “I don’t believe that for a second. That’s a damn pick up line.”

If Talia hadn’t seen what she had, she would have believed that too.

“So he used you?” she went on, clearly irate.

Talia swallowed another sip of wine as if it was bitter medicine. “Yes,” she admitted.

“So use him back.” She declared vehemently.

“Carrie.”

“Don’t be stupid. He got what he wanted from you now it’s your turn.” Carrie leaned in until her entire face filled the screen. “You get that project funded and running all over the world. Your cookies are not free. They’re bloody expensive, be sure to let him know that.”

“I’m not a gold digger,” Talia argued.

“You’re no Becky either.”

Talia rubbed the back of her neck and her nape with her sigh, bringing her hand to rest on her cheek, elbow on the table as she stared at an exasperated Carrie on her phone screen. Seeing as how fast she caved to him, she wasn’t so sure of that.

After a long silence, Carrie softly murmured, “Maybe he likes you.”

A tiny flutter of hope went up in Talia’s heart then quickly died. No, the man was in no state to have an emotional relationship. The cold hard truth was DeLuca had never given any indication that his feelings for her went beyond sex. In fact, the only thing he’d said about her was that she was different, no ‘I like you’, ‘I’d like to get to know you better’ or even the cheesy dick first come-ons ‘I’ve got something to show you, it’s in my pants’. He just took and she willingly gave. She’d had it right the first time. He wasn’t really interested in her, otherwise he would have tried to date her before getting into her panties. The only thing he liked about her was that she was a distraction to his problems and obvious mental health issues he would rather run and hide from than confront. She was a temporary fix, and that did not feel good.

“No, he doesn’t like me,” a twinge tugged at her heart and Talia took a quick gulp of wine telling herself it was nothing but heartburn.

“Do you like him?” The cautious softly spoken question brought a dead silence into the room.

Talia combed her fingers through her hair with a heavy sigh. Did she like him? Hell yeah, otherwise she wouldn’t have let herself be easily seduced. Did she want to like him? Honestly, she wished she could press stop and eject in the VCR that was her emotions. The doorbell rang, saving her from answering the question. Her pizza had arrived. Comfort food was here to hopefully fill the hole in her soul that the wine was failing to.

“Hey, I need to get that. See you at work tomorrow?”

Carrie nodded solemnly. “Yeah. Hey, chin up sweetheart. You’ll figure it out.”

Talia nodded, blew her a kiss then pressed the red button on the screen to end the call. She placed the glass of wine on the table then walked to the door, to get her new best friend. She opened the door only to find another kind of delivery waiting for her. With two suitcases at his feet, Rafael DeLuca stood before her with a determined look on his face.

“I’m moving in,” he announced, picked up his luggage and stepped past her and into the house.

Stunned, she just watched him, his declaration still processing in her mind. Had she heard that right? Was she buzzed? She’d just had a few sips of wine and it was her first glass.

“I’m sorry. Would you mind repeating that?” she asked, still holding the door ajar as she watched Rafe place his suitcases next to the couch.

He walked to her, in a slow sedated pace, hands in his front jeans pockets, his eyes moving over her from her bare feet to her neck. She fidgeted at the heated gaze, questioning if the wine had made her more susceptible to his subtle and yet avalanche sensuality. Rafael DeLuca didn’t openly seduce. No, he lured like bait to an unsuspecting fish, whose life would end impaled with a stick over an open fire.

“You didn’t happen to go out like that today?” The hard undertone in his voice caught her attention.

Her head reared back in surprise. Talia looked down at the white crop top, blue jeans cut shorts and the boho long cardigan sweater that made up her indoors fashion then back at Rafe. This man was not about to take issue with her wardrobe after inviting himself to her apartment on an indefinite stay.

“What’s it to you?” she snapped.

He shrugged in what was supposed to be a nonchalant way, but his stiff shoulders rated him out. Staring pointedly at her, he said “It’s cold,” blandly.

She snorted her disbelief, “Yeah. Let’s go with that.”

She pushed the door and it slammed shut with a resounding bang. She then stalked towards her dining room table, the long stem glass with the dark red liquid in its bowl called to her, promising to unwind the knots that had formed in her stomach with Rafe’s blindsiding manoeuvre. She silently toasted her new roomie, knowing very well that it would not be an easy eviction like last time, if any, and gulped down what was left.

“Don’t think I haven’t realized your reservations about us,” he spoke behind her.

“And what would that be?” she asked, hearing the hard edge in her voice.