14. Tayana
14
TAYANA
A sharp knock at my office door breaks my concentration, and before I can answer, one of the security guards bursts in, his face flushed with tension.
“Ms. Kamarov, there’s… that man from yesterday… asking for you,”he says, his voice clipped.
I arch an eyebrow, knowing he can only be referring to one person. I’m about to tell him to send him away when the look on the guard’s face makes me pause.
The guard hesitates, his throat bobbing in a nervous swallow as sweat coats his forehead. “He’s on a motorcycle. He’s refusing to leave, and he’s... causing a scene. He has Alfred up against a wall; I think he broke his arm.”
My stomach knots, dread and curiosity warring for dominance. He was here only yesterday – is he back already ? I mutter a curse and slap my hands against the desk before I push my chair back and rise.
“I’ll handle it,” I mutter, and he follows me out the door. My shoes click sharply against the floor as I stride down the hallway, the guard trailing behind me. The knot in my stomach tightens with every step I take until I reach the front of the building.
The scene unfolds as soon as the doors slide open. Rafi stands in the middle of the lobby, unapologetically commanding attention. His black leather jacket clings to his broad shoulders; he’s all confidence and raw energy, an untamed force that fills the space like a storm.
He has a security guard pinned to the wall, the man’s face taut with frustration as his arm is bent awkwardly behind his back. Another security guard stands a few feet away, visibly torn between intervening and self-preservation.
“Call her,” Rafi demands, his voice low but razor-sharp, his eyes boring into the second guard. “Now.”
The guard fumbles with his radio, his hand shaking as he lifts it to his mouth.
“Gatti!” My voice rings out, sharp and commanding, cutting through the tension like a whip as it announces my presence.
His head snaps toward me, his dark eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, the chaos seems to freeze, suspended in the electric charge between us. Then, slowly, he releases the guard, his movements deliberate, almost lazy, as if to show he was never truly threatening.
The guard stumbles back, clutching his arm and muttering curses under his breath before he drops to the ground. Rafi doesn’t spare him a glance, his focus solely on me.
“You finally made it,” he says, a slow smirk tugging at his lips.
“Do you make a habit of terrorizing employees?” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest to hide the way my heart is hammering against my ribs.
“They were in my way.” He shrugs as if that justifies his behavior.
“Why are you back here?” My blood is simmering. “I told you I’d let you know if I find anything.”
“I realized you don’t have any way to contact me,”he smirks. He lifts a helmet off the ground and extends it toward me. “Put this on.”
I stare at him, incredulous. “Excuse me?”
“We’re going for a ride,” he says, his tone so certain that I find my tongue tied, unable to form a response.
I glance at the security guards, their wary expressions only adding to my unease. “I’m at work, Rafi. I don’t have time for—like, really…who do you think you are?”
“This isn’t a request, Tayana,” he interrupts, his smirk fading into something harder, something lethal. “Get on the bike. Or your security here will have to carry me out of here in a bodybag.”
I hesitate, the weight of his gaze pressing down on me. There’s something in his eyes, a mix of challenge and darkness that’s impossible to ignore. Against all logic, I find myself reaching for the helmet.
The ride is a blur of wind and adrenaline. I grip the sides of his jacket tightly, the roar of the engine drowning out everything but the pounding of my heart. The city rushes past in a kaleidoscope of lights and shadows, and for a moment, I let myself forget everything—work, responsibility, the mess of emotions this man stirs in me.
When we finally stop, it’s at a secluded lookout perched high above the city. The view takes my breath away—an endless expanse of twinkling lights stretching out to meet the horizon.
Rafi swings off the bike first, holding out a hand to help me dismount. I ignore it, slipping off on my own, but the smirk he gives me says he expected nothing less.
“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” he says, gesturing toward the view.
“It is beautiful,” I admit, my voice softer now, the tension between us easing just a fraction.
He leans against the bike, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches me. “Figured you could use a break.”
I turn to him, my brows knitting together. “So, you decided to kidnap me?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he steps closer, his gaze dark and intent. “You’re too wound up, Tayana. A good break might just jog your memory, help me with a little something I need.”
“This is another fishing expedition? And here I was thinking you actually cared about me.”
“Who says there’s one without the other?”
His words hit a nerve, striking something deep inside me I’d rather not acknowledge. I look away, focusing on the city below, the lights blurring as the world fades into darkness.
“Come on,” he says, walking towards the railing.
“I can’t, Rafi. You dragged me away from work.”
He turns back to look at me, holds my gaze for a moment longer than is reasonably comfortable, before he moves back towards me.
“You can,” he says firmly, stepping closer until his warmth radiates against me. “With me, you can.”
I don’t know what compels me to lift my eyes and meet his gaze, but when I do, the intensity there leaves me breathless. For a moment, it feels like the world has stopped spinning, the only thing anchoring me the quiet promise in his eyes.
“You’re not used to anyone taking control,” he says softly, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine. “You’ve been your own person for too long, you’ve forgotten how to let someone in. You don’t get to do that with me.”
“All this for a scrap of information?” I smirk.
“All this to spend time with you. We’re not done yet, Tayana Kamarov. We’re just getting started.”
We lie side by side on the cool grass, just beyond the railing, the city sprawling out beneath us like a shimmering sea of light. The stars above seem impossibly close, their glow so bright it feels as if they’re whispering secrets only the universe understands. The air carries the faint scent of pine and earth, grounding me even as my thoughts drift.
The stars always remind me of my mother, and for a moment, I let myself linger in my memories of her before turning to look at Rafi.
He’s stretched out beside me, his hands folded under his head, his profile sharp against the dark sky. His presence is magnetic, impossible to ignore, even in stillness.
It’s just us here, wrapped in the quiet hum of the night, the stars our only witnesses.
“What are you thinking?”I ask, breaking the silence, my voice soft but curious. I’ve never done this before—ditched work on a whim, thrown my responsibilities to the wind, or sat in quiet companionship with a man I barely know. Yet here I am, with Rafi Gatti of all people, and I can’t deny the pull he has over me.
He doesn’t answer right away. His gaze remains fixed on the stars, his expression unreadable. “I’m wondering what the stars are thinking,” he says finally, his voice low, almost contemplative. “Shining down on us the way they are.”
I can’t help but laugh softly, the sound breaking the fragile stillness. “If you’re trying to convince me otherwise, I should warn you—I don’t believe for a second that you have a poetic bone in your body.”
He turns his head then, his dark eyes meeting mine. There’s a flicker of something there—amusement, maybe, or something deeper, something that makes my heart stumble. “You think you know me that well already?”
“I think I know your type,”I tease, but the playful edge in my voice falters under the weight of his gaze.
He shifts closer, just enough that I can feel the faint warmth of him beside me. “What if I told you the stars are lost souls,”he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost intimate. “What if they’re just watching, jealous of us? Because no matter how bright they shine, they’ll never feel what it’s like to be here. To touch. To want.”
My breath catches. The space between us feels impossibly small now, and yet it vibrates with an intensity that makes my skin prickle. “How can you know what the stars feel, Rafi?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
His hand moves slowly, brushing a strand of hair from my face, his touch light but deliberate. “Because I feel the same way,” he says, the words a quiet confession that sends a shiver down my spine.
The air shifts around us, charged with something electric, undeniable. Before I can second-guess myself, I close the distance between us, my lips meeting his in a kiss that’s soft at first, tentative, until his hand slides to the back of my neck, pulling me closer.
The world fades away—the stars, the city, everything but the two of us. His kiss deepens, and I lose myself in the warmth of him, the way he feels so solid, so sure, against me.
We break apart just long enough for him to guide me onto my back, the grass cool against my skin, the night air wrapping around us. His weight settles over me, his lips finding mine again as his hands roam, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
Here, under the stars, nothing else matters. It’s just us, raw and unguarded, two lost souls finding their way back to each other.
Rafi’s weight presses me into the soft grass, grounding me even as the rest of the world feels like it’s spinning away. His lips are insistent, commanding, and I respond with a fervor that surprises even me. My hands find his shoulders, fingers curling into the leather of his jacket as if holding on to him will keep me tethered to this moment, this burning intensity.
His hands slide down, grazing over my sides, my hips, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, his breath warm against my lips. His eyes are dark and full of intent, searching mine for something—permission, maybe, or reassurance.
I give it to him without hesitation.
My fingers tug at his jacket, and he shrugs it off, letting it fall to the ground beside us. The fabric of his shirt is soft under my palms, but it’s not enough—I want to feel him, to touch his skin. My hands slip beneath the hem, and he groans softly as I trace the hard lines of his stomach, the sharp ridges of muscle that tense under my touch.
He leans down, his lips finding my neck, and I gasp as his teeth scrape gently against my skin before soothing the spot with his tongue. My back arches instinctively, pressing me closer to him, and he takes advantage of the movement, sliding a hand under my shirt to rest against the bare skin of my waist. His touch is warm, possessive, and it sends a thrill through me.
His hands work quickly, pushing my shirt up and over my head, discarding it to the side. The cool night air brushes over my skin, but the heat between us is more than enough to keep the chill away. He pauses for a moment, his gaze sweeping over me, and the hunger in his eyes makes my breath catch.
“So beautiful,” he says, the words soft but fervent, like a prayer.
I reach for him, pulling him down to me, and our bodies align perfectly, fitting together as if they were always meant to. His mouth trails down my neck, my collarbone, leaving a path of kisses that makes my pulse race. His hands are everywhere, exploring, claiming, and I can’t get enough of him.
The stars above seem to burn brighter, but they pale in comparison to the fire between us. The rest of the world falls away—there’s no past, no future, only this moment, this connection, this intoxicating blend of desire and need.
Under the vast expanse of the night sky, with the city lights twinkling far below, he enters me slowly, and we become one, lost in each other, consumed by the intensity of the moment. The grass beneath us, the stars above us, and the quiet hum of the night are the only witnesses to this raw, unfiltered passion.
And for the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself forget everything else and just feel.