Moment of Weakness (Embracing Moments Book 1) (38 page)

“I love you, Julia,” Roman whispered against my skin. My fingers gripped his shoulders, my nails dug into his back, and a warm pool of heat built in my lower stomach. My heart beat in the same wild pattern of his movement, and the sounds he made in my ear told me he was just as close as I was. Moving my hands down to his ass, I gripped it hard as he continued to pump into me. Pleasure swirled in my stomach like nothing I had ever felt before, and after a few more deep penetrating thrusts, my orgasm rocked through me.

Roman kissed me hard, grunting against my mouth as his release paralleled my own. A moment later, he collapsed beside me, drawing in long deep breaths. His body glistened under the fine sheen of sweat and rain that covered it. Moving the wet strands of hair off my face, his thumb brushed down my cheek. “Are you really here? Did that really just happen?”

I smiled. “Yeah, Roman.” A comforting silence passed between us, and the overwhelming amount of love I felt for this man had my heart feeling like it was about to explode. I was so scared to ruin this moment. But I had to tell him. He needed to know. I cleared my throat, forcing out the words I had spent the entire afternoon finding the courage to say. “I’ve transferred to Harvard.”

Roman’s finger stopped moving against my cheek and his brow furrowed. “When are you leaving?”

“A few days.” I could see the disappointment etching its way into his features. He went to pull back, but I held him in place. “Come with me.”

His gaze clouded, and my heart pounded against my chest as I waited for him to say something. Several quiet, agonizing moments passed between us. His lips were tight, his eyes deep in thought, and then he spoke. “Julia, I don’t—”

I pressed my fingers to his lips. “Just hear me out before you say anything else. Harvard is seven hours from here. I want you with me. You don’t have to sell your house. In fact, we can stay here when we visit if you want to. I know it seems like I have this all figured out, but honestly, I don’t. I’m just scared to lose you. So whatever it is . . . whatever is holding you back, we can figure it out together.”

Roman stared at me, his thumb started moving again, and his lips curled into a smile. He kissed my fingers, and I moved them away from his mouth so he could talk. “What I was going to say was, I don’t want to spend another moment of my life without you in it.”

My lungs deflated from a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Even your weak ones?” I teased.

His nose brushed against mine, and right before he dropped another tender kiss to my lips, he said, “especially those.”

As I kissed him back, I thought about all the things falling in love with Roman had taught me. It taught me to embrace life’s moments. All of them. Every moment of your life is important. Even the bad moments are just the small stepping stones to the better ones you’ve yet to experience.

But most importantly, it taught me to
never
be afraid of the weak ones, because it’s those moments
that may just change your life.

Flavor of the Weak
by American Hi-Fi

Hot N Cold
by Katy Perry

All I Need
by Within Temptation

Falling Fast
by Avril Lavigne

In Your Room
by Halestorm

Stop Standing There
by Avril Lavigne

Whoa! Man
by Emery

Hanging By A Moment
by Lifehouse

Break In
by Halestorm

Every story has two sides.

You’ve read Julia’s.

Here’s mine.

Keep reading for a sneak preview of Roman’s story

World of Darkness

Coming Soon

Sneak Preview of
World of Darkness

Chapter 1

“Mom, Kayla’s touching me again!” I push Kayla’s hand from my arm and look back down at the magazine in my lap.

“Kayla, I told you to leave your brother alone. Please don’t make me tell you again.” Mom’s voice echoes throughout the car. It’s not like Kayla will listen. She never does. As soon as mom turns her head, she will be right back at it. I glance over at her, and her little nose wrinkles, her brown eyebrows pulling together in a deep scowl. I return the expression, but before I have a chance to turn back around, she sticks her tongue out at me.

What a little brat.

And here it comes. Her arm stretches out, her tiny fingers reaching toward me again. Why couldn’t I be an only child? Moving closer to the door, I look around for my sleeping bag, hoping to wedge it between us. The car is packed with everything you could ever need for camping. We go once a year, and I look forward to it. It’s the only week out of the year I don’t have to share a space with Kayla.

“Dad, I can’t find my sleeping bag.”

Dad looks at me through the rearview mirror. “Did you grab it from the kitchen table before we left?”

My shoulders drop. I didn’t grab it, and if he’s asking me, then it means he didn’t grab it either. “No, I thought you did. Can we go back, please?”

“Michael, I’m not turning around. I always pack extras. You will just have to use one of them.”

“But Dad! It’s my new sleeping bag. Come on! We only go camping once a year.”

Dad shakes his head. “No Mich—”

“Dad, please!” I’m begging, and I know I shouldn’t because Dad hates it when I do.

“Mommy, I have to pee!” Kayla’s high-pitched voice screams over my own. Her dark brown pigtails flail back and forth as she kicks her legs up and down in her pink booster seat.

Mom reaches over and places a hand on the back of Dad’s neck. “Sweetheart, let’s just go back home. This way Michael can grab his sleeping bag, and Kayla can use the bathroom.”

My father lets out a heavy sigh and turns the car around. I don’t know if I should be grateful that Kayla’s the reason we’re turning around or mad because she always gets her way. A few minutes later, we pull into our driveway and I go to open my door.

“Michael, just wait in the car. Your father will grab your sleeping bag, and I’m going to just run Kayla to the bathroom real quick. We won’t be long.” Mom unbuckles Kayla from her seat and sets her down on the ground. Slumping back in my seat, I cross my arms over my lap and stare out the window. I hate waiting in the car, but unlike Kayla, I listen when Mom tells me to do something. Every few minutes, I glance at the clock. It hasn’t even been ten minutes yet, but I’m already tired of waiting. Okay. So maybe I don’t listen, but what ten-year-old child does? Kayla is five, and she always gets away with it. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I push open the car door and step out. My legs carry me across our perfectly manicured lawn and through the front door as I try to come up with the perfect excuse for not listening.

But when I walk through the front door, I can’t think.

My mind is too busy taking in the scene before me. Our white floral patterned couches are turned on their sides, and the crystal lamp Mom loves so much lays shattered on the floor. Kayla’s sobs fill my ears, and I hear the unsteady shake in my father’s voice. I run up the stairs as fast as my legs will carry me. When I reach my mother and father’s door, every muscle in my body locks tight.

My mother’s green eyes are glazed, her red cheeks soaked with tears as she uses her body to shield Kayla’s. Dad kneels before a man I don’t recognize, his hands in the air, a black barrel pointed at his forehead. The beating of my heart is so fast; it’s the only thing I can hear. It’s drowning out Kayla’s sobs, my mother’s cries, and my father’s begging. My mind is screaming at me to do something, anything, but it’s too late. The finger of the man I don’t recognize is pulling the trigger of the gun in his hand.

Bang!

Opening my eyes, I ignored the loud ringing of my cell phone and stared at the white ceiling above me. Whoever the fuck it was could wait. I needed a few minutes to get myself back together. Dreams like that always screwed with my head. Only it wasn’t a dream. Not really. Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I inhaled a deep breath. The overwhelming smell of cheap perfume and stale cigarettes filled the musty hotel room, and I closed my eyes, hesitant to look at the sleeping female beside me. Her dark brown hair resting on my pillow was proof last night did in fact happen. God, what the hell was I thinking? I should have just went home when Valarie canceled, but my body demanded a release that couldn’t be satisfied by my hand. It’s not like it mattered now anyway. The amount of alcohol in my system made it impossible to remember what had happened, let alone how it felt.

As I got up from the bed, I was careful not to make any sudden movements. The last thing I needed was for sleeping beauty to wake up and make things even more awkward than they already were. Sleeping with random women was not something I made a habit of doing. Half the time, they wanted more. And that was something I was incapable of giving. It was why Valarie was one of the few I kept in contact with. She didn’t want or need more. She never asked questions, and when she left in the morning, it was never awkward. She’d slip out the door, without so much as a peep. After pulling my clothes back on and grabbing my cell phone from the nightstand beside the bed, I tucked my SIG back in its holster and snuck out the door.

Not even two steps out of the hotel room, my phone rang again. Unknown caller flashed across the screen, but I knew exactly who it was. There was only one person who called my phone from an untraceable number. Vincent Luciano. I despised the asshole, but he knew where I stood when it came to accepting contracts. Our arrangement worked out in my favor. He didn’t waste my time, and dealing with him kept money in my pocket. Hitting the accept button, I held the phone to my ear.

“Hayes,” I bit out, crossing the short distance to my Audi, the black paint gleaming in the sunlight.

“Where the hell have you been?” His thick Italian accent came through the line. While his voice may have intimidated some, it had little effect on me.

I rolled my eyes and gave a short answer. “Around.”

“Well, if you’re done playing happy fucking homemaker, I have a contract that just came through.”

During the past two months, I had made an effort to avoid him. It’s not that I wanted out, but the last contract I took came with a hefty payout. It allowed me to purchase a secluded property with its own gun range and still leave me enough to last at least another twenty years.

“I’ll tell you what. Send it over and I’ll take a look at it.”

“Barbie is sending it now. This one has your name written all over it. Target’s name is Benjamin Parker. Lives in Brookedale, New York.” You have to be kidding me. Brookedale was fifteen minutes from my new permanent residence. “Look, Roman. I could really fucking use you on this one. You’re the best I got, and this one is paying big.”

“I told you. I’ll take a look at it. Once I do, I’ll call you.”

Hanging up, I tossed the phone on the leather seat beside me and ripped out of the hotel parking lot. Vinny didn’t bother calling back. He knew better than that. He didn’t own me. No one did, and I planned on keeping it that way.

The first thing I did when I got home was take a shower. I was in no hurry to look over the contract, but when Vinny messaged and said he needed an answer before midnight, I wondered why he was being so impatient. Vinny didn’t take shit from no one, especially his clients. Granted, they may have been paying him to coordinate the hits, but Vinny always looked at it as though he was the one doing them the favor. In a way, I guess he was. All they needed to do was make sure they had the available means to pay for his services. Vinny handled the rest, from hiring the person to take out the hit, to creating the alibi. He prided himself on protecting his clients’ identities.

Walking into my office, I sat down in the black leather chair that sat behind the metal desk and spun around. The large window behind me provided a spectacular view of the broad lake surrounding the property. As I stared out at the calm water, I focused on the empty boat that sat in the center of the lake. It was like that damn boat was intentionally put there to be a constant reminder of what I had become. Nothing more than an empty vessel, stuck in the middle of nowhere. This was the path I chose. Only it wasn’t. I didn’t choose to have my entire family murdered in front of me. I didn’t choose to witness Matteo’s life slip from my very hands. But that’s the thing about life. Often more times than not, you’re forced into choices you don’t want to make. Paths you never wanted to follow.

Deciding to take a look at the file that arrived hours ago, I turned toward my laptop and clicked on my email. My eyes traced over the details of the kill order. Accepting contracts wasn’t something I did without thorough consideration. While some took whatever contract that landed in their hands, I refused to take a life over something as stupid as a cheating spouse. If the targets didn’t meet my criteria, then I wasn’t interested. Plain and simple. Turns out, Benjamin Parker was the perfect example of the scum I strived to eliminate. He was a successful businessman, but then again, most of them were. It was how they funded their illegal operations, and as I scanned through the documents, it was evident just how many Mr. Parker had. Asshole had his hands in every corner of the cookie jar—illegal arms trade and drug trafficking—just to name a couple. It was no wonder he lived in Brookedale. Some of the wealthiest in the country resided there, and it wasn’t guesswork to figure out the kind of money he was pulling in.