Moment of Weakness (Embracing Moments Book 1) (21 page)

My face was so cold it lacked all feeling. When I worked up enough strength, I opened my eyes and glanced around the dark room. I was in my room, on my bed, tucked under my seafoam blue comforter. Roman sat beside me, his hand holding a makeshift ice pack against my jaw.

“There you are. You going to stick around this time?” he teased, but his tone lacked its typical humor.

“Roman?” My lips felt swollen, and for a minute, I wasn’t even sure I spoke.

“Yeah. I’m here.” His thumb caressed my opposite cheek. “Everything is okay. You’re okay.”

“Who . . . Where did he . . .” I struggled to talk. My throat burned, and it felt raw and gritty, similar to the sound of my voice.

“He’s gone. You’re safe now. I’ll explain later, but you need to rest. I called your father. He’s on his way back right now as we speak.”

“And the police?”

“Your father and Theo advised against it until they return. They seem to question the police’s ability to handle anything. Your father is hiring a personal team to come in and investigate.”

That sounded like my father. He had lacked confidence in the local detectives and police department ever since Mom’s death.

I nodded my head and sucked in a breath as my head throbbed with pain. The corners of my eyes burned, and my lashes were still damp with tears. Roman looked at me, guilt filling his emerald green eyes. “I’m so sorry, Julia. I should have been there. I should have gotten to you sooner.” His voice sounded a million miles away.

I tried shaking my head, but it was too painful. “It’s not your fault. I saw him and tried hiding in the closet.” I paused, inhaling a shallow breath. “I forgot to turn my phone to silent and he heard it. All I could do was try and get away, but then he grabbed me by my hair and dragged me back.” My voice broke. “I couldn’t . . . he . . .” My chest felt tight, and my head felt as though it spun.

“Just try to sleep, okay?” Roman attempted to stand.

“Please, don’t go. I don’t want to be alone,” I pleaded, my fingers curling around his arm.

After what had just happened, security detail no longer seemed so bad, and I knew the second I closed my eyes, I would see
him.
I would feel his hands around my neck, my struggle to breathe. Without saying a word, Roman kicked off his boots. Cool air wafted around my legs, being replaced by Roman’s body heat as he slid in behind me. Turning around, I melded against him, his body like a soothing balm against my achy muscles. Roman lay still, unmoving for a few moments, and then his arm came down and curled around my waist as he pulled me closer into his side. Cradled against him, I rested my head in the crook of his neck. My fingers swirled around, creating imaginary circles in the center of his chest. I wasn’t sure what had happened after blacking out, and while I was curious, all I wanted to do at the moment was lay there in Roman’s arms, feel his heart beat against my hand, and listen to the sound of his pulse beating beneath my ear. Roman’s fingers ran the length of my arm, his chin dipping so his lips could place a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“I was really looking forward to dinner,” he joked, trying to lighten the seriousness of the situation.

It hurt to laugh, but I managed to push a small chuckle up my throat. “It wasn’t much to look forward to. I didn’t know what to make, so I opted for the no-fail option.”

“And what was that?”

“Macaroni and cheese with hot dogs.”

Roman’s chest rumbled against my own as a deep throaty laugh parted his lips. “Sounds like one hell of a dinner,” he said, his voice trailing off.

Something shifted in the air around us, and the events of the night faded into nothing more than an awful memory. Tilting my head back, I gazed up at Roman. His eyes settled on mine. The guilt was still there, but something else, another emotion I had trouble deciphering, was evident. Regret maybe? If he blamed himself, he shouldn’t. He had nothing to be sorry for. This wasn’t his fault.

Roman’s hand moved up my arm, caressing the length of it as his palm cupped my cheek, and his thumb traced the curve of my mouth. I hadn’t looked in the mirror, but the faint metallic taste that lingered in my mouth and the puffiness of my bottom lip made it clear I sported a busted lip.

Inching forward, I brushed my mouth against Roman’s, ignoring the sear of pain that shot through my own. His minty breath danced along my lips and I yearned to taste it, to taste him. Parting my lips, I flicked my tongue across his, silently asking permission to do just that. Roman’s body relaxed underneath mine, and his hands moved over me, one still cupping my cheek, the other rotating in circles on the small of my back. Roman’s tongue curled against mine, and heat flowed to the sensitive spot between my legs. The way he kissed me was gentle, yet deep, and the intensity of it spread through me like an electric current. Kissing him felt like a dream I never wanted to wake up from. Roman allowed me to control the pace, never pushing beyond what I was willing to give. He rolled me from my side to my back, his body following the movement, as he hovered above me. With most of his weight supported by his arm, his lower half pressed against me, pinning me to the mattress. His lips fluttered against my jaw—the side that didn’t feel like it got hit by a Mack truck—and then descended to the small sensitive area right behind my ear. His tongue flicked across my pulse, and as though he had flipped a switch, every nerve in my body sparked to life.

Pleasure pulsed through me at the feel of him as I tilted my hips upward. His hard length pressed against the zipper of his jeans, begging to be sprung free. My fingers curled around the button, flicking it open, and then moved on to the zipper.

Roman pulled back so we were face to face. He swept his thumb across my forehead, careful to avoid the part of my jaw that still throbbed. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re making it go away. You’re helping me forget, and right now, I
want
to forget.”

Roman had a way of doing that, helping me forget. He also had a way of making me feel. How he became the only one to know everything about me—get me to open up about things I never shared with anyone—was a mystery. The power he had over me was terrifying.

Wanting to touch him, I moved my hands back to the bulge between his legs. My fingers wrapped around his impressive width, stroking his entire length through the cotton material of his underwear. Roman gasped against my neck. I didn’t know what I enjoyed more, the power I had at being able to emit such sounds from him, or the way his body trembled against the feel of my grasp. His hips bucked forward, moving in sync with each stroke of my hand. Deciding to remove the only barrier between my hand and him, I pulled the waist of his boxer briefs over his hips and down to his knees.

Watching him spring free, I wrapped my hand around the base of his erection, stroking the smooth layer of skin in a swift fluid motion. Roman’s breath feathered my skin, and his groans had my insides twisting. His fingers curled around the thin strap of my tank top, and he pulled it down my arm, exposing my breast. His lips glided down the swell of it, his tongue circling around its hardened tip. Warm, damp heat pooled between my thighs. As my hand continued moving in long strokes, Roman’s hand slipped between the waistline of my panties and the sensitive skin they were guarding. Running his finger along my slick crease, he found the small throbbing bundle of nerves and pushed against it, flicking and swirling his thumb in a delicious motion. The last string that held me together broke, and my body shook from the currents flowing through it. Roman’s own release followed a moment later, but I refused to let go of him, continuing to milk him until he collapsed beside me.

His breath ragged and uneven, he spoke into the crook of my neck. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” I said, cutting him off. And I did. I wanted to touch him, feel him writhe against me, and know it was because of the pleasure I was providing.

I felt his lips form into a smile against my skin. We continued to lay there for a few minutes, and I refused to overanalyze what was happening between us. If I had learned anything in life, it was to live in the moment. Because moments pass, and you have no idea if the next is going to live up to the previous. This moment was one I wanted to hold on to. Roman pressed a gentle kiss on my neck and then rolled to stand up.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, walking across the room and disappearing into the bathroom. Completely sated, I relaxed against my bed pillows and stared up at the ceiling. The quiet darkness of the room felt like a weight pressing down on my eyelids. Roman returned a few minutes later, and I lifted the comforter so he could join me. Slipping in beside me, he pulled me tight against his chest, and his hands fell to meet mine, our fingers interlocking. Lying next to him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, hearing his slow shallow breathing—I knew. I knew if there was anyone I was capable of giving the remaining piece of my heart to, it was him.

It was Roman.

ROLLING TO MY
side, I reached my arm out and patted the space beside me. Roman was gone. That somehow bothered me more than it should. As I sat up, I glanced around my room. Someone had pulled my curtains closed, and while I appreciated the simple gesture, the sheer seafoam fabric did little to mask the sun’s bright rays. My eyes moved to read the time on my alarm clock. It was almost noon. Despite my desire to just crawl back under the covers and fall asleep, I swung my feet off the side of my bed. A moment later, a loud knock rattled my door, breaking the silence of the room.

“Who is it?” I asked, trying to adjust my tank top.

My father’s voice came through the door. “It’s me.”

Leaping across my bedroom floor, I opened the door and threw my arms around his waist. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Me too,” he said, holding me against him like a toddler in need of comfort. “As soon as Roman called, Theo and I took a private flight. We got home several hours ago, but you were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“And what about the Hartwick merger?”

“Grant’s taking care of it.”

“Have you seen Roman?” I asked, pulling away from his embrace.

“I sent him home to get some rest. When we came in, he was sitting by your door. He said he hadn’t moved from that spot all night except to check on you.”

“Oh,” I said, turning to walk back into my room. Following behind me, my father rested against my dresser, his hands gripping the edge on either side of him. I sat back down on the corner of my bed, pulling my thighs to my chest so I could rest my chin on my knees.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, eying my face. I had yet to see myself in the mirror, but I was sure I was feeling a lot better than I looked.

“Better. My headache has gone away. The only thing that still hurts is my jaw and my bottom lip, of course.”

“I called Dr. Ellis. She will stop by in a few hours, just to make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay,” I said, agreeing. I wasn’t sure a busted lip and bruised jaw warranted a house call, but I wasn’t going to argue. Instead, I asked him the first thing that came to mind. “Roman said you told him not to call the police?”

My father nodded. “That’s correct. I already had a team in here this morning collecting evidence. They’ve interviewed Roman and will come take your statement as soon as you’re feeling up to it.”

“Did Roman tell you what happened? To the guy, I mean?”

He shook his head. “By the time Roman got upstairs to you, the man had taken off, propelling out the window down the side of the house. Whoever was in here had some kind of training. Roman was going to chase after him, but the guy had a getaway car waiting for him, and he didn’t want to leave you alone.”

Licking my lips, I glanced over to the window, trying to picture someone propelling out the side of it. “Do you think it’s the same guy that has been threatening you?”

“We don’t know, but hopefully we will have some answers soon.” My father sighed and walked to sit beside me on the bed. His head fell down between his shoulders, and his hands clasped together between his thighs as he leaned over and stared at the floor. “I screwed up, Julia. I should have had more security here knowing we wouldn’t be home.” He looked over at me, his eyes ridden with guilt. Like Roman, he blamed himself. My eyes burned as tears formed in the corner of my eyes. “This never would have happened. I just know how you hate it. How suffocating it is for you, and I didn’t want you feeling like a prisoner in your own home. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Dad,” I said, swiping away a tear. “It’s nobody’s fault. Let’s just find the bastard, okay?”

“That’s the plan, sweetheart. They are already on top of it.”