Mine (Falling For A Rose Book 7) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Mine

  Falling for a Rose Book Seven

  By

  Stephanie Nicole Norris

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Note from the Author

  More Books by Stephanie Nicole Norris

  About the Author

  Note from the Publisher: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead or references to locations, persons, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters, circumstances and events are imaginative and not intended to reflect real events.

  Mine

  Falling for A Rose Book Seven

  Copyright 2018 Stephanie Nicole Norris

  Love is a Drug, Ink.

  All Rights Reserved and Proprietary.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, in any form or format without written permission from Author. Send all requests via email to

  [email protected]

  Dedication

  To my reading family, thank you for your continuous support!

  Chapter One

  Mukul Resort

  Guacalito de La Isla, Nicaragua

  Steam rose from the jacuzzi hot tub as Phoebe dipped her toes inside.

  “Mmmm,” she moaned as the heated water covered an entire foot.

  Gently, Phoebe swept her other foot inside, allowing her legs to sink in to her knees. Sitting on the edge of the tub while donned in an all-white two-piece bikini, Phoebe cozied up to the steamy bath, giving her body time to soak up the heat that now seeped through her pores. Initially, Phoebe wanted to dip her entire body under the calming waters, but now she was having second thoughts as it would take her stylist half a day to recreate her glowing shine and straight tresses. She played around with the idea a little bit more. Then, with her hands pressed into the cemented surface, Phoebe lifted her luscious frame and slowly descended into the whirlpool.

  “Now that feels good,” she said.

  Phoebe’s long black strands fell to her shoulders, instantly getting wet once coming in contact with the water. Resting against the wall of the tub, Phoebe’s head fell back, and her eyes closed. The torrid water and jet stream were a constant message in her shoulders, back, and buttocks.

  “Mmmm,” Phoebe moaned again, her mind whirling with thoughts of the day’s festivities.

  After being widowed for over twenty years, Phoebe’s father, multimillionaire business mogul Christopher Lee Rose, remarried with a beachside wedding on Guacalito de La Isla in Nicaragua. It was something Phoebe never thought she would witness. After so many years of being single and watching his kids grow, unbeknownst to Phoebe, her father had inadvertently fell in love with Norma Rodriguez. When Phoebe’s mother Janet was still alive, Norma had been hired as their housekeeper. With their family growing almost every year with a new brother or sister, Janet could barely keep up with the daily goings-on of a housewife. Not to mention the home they resided in was practically the size of a football stadium.

  At the time, Janet had thought they would need at least three maybe even four others to help with the massive structure. But she’d soon found out, along with everyone else, that Norma was more than well equipped to handle the place. It wasn’t until Janet’s life was taken in a home invasion did Norma fall into a role she never intended to be in. Norma had grown to love their family like her own, becoming a friend, nurturer, and sounding board. More than that, she’d become their mother figure. And no one deserved happiness more than she.

  Phoebe and her sisters and brothers had been more than ecstatic. And now here she was hours after the wedding had taken place, trying to keep her mind from venturing to a man who ruled her thoughts on any given day. Quentin Davidson.

  With little to no effort, Phoebe’s mind filled with images of his dark brown skin, dangerous chestnut brown eyes, dread locks that had initially started as small plats but now hung to his shoulders neatly dressed like an Egyptian king’s head crown. A neatly short-cut groomed beard sat around his chin and magnificent lips, and he carried his powerful ripped physique on six feet, three inches of testosterone. As a fitness expert by day and a lady killer by night, Quentin’s solid build was unmatched to anyone Phoebe had ever seen. But besides his masculine build, Quentin was everything Phoebe wanted in a man.

  Graduating from Harvard with a bachelor’s degree in business management, Quentin grew his chain of fitness centers from the ground up. Now, as the owner of thirty-two gyms trailing the southeast, the southwest, and a plethora of endorsements; Quentin had become a multimillionaire business tycoon. His career skyrocketed, making him the spokesman for energy drinks, healthy snack bars, and an instructor for workout videos that sold across the globe. Society had deemed him an overnight success. But, Phoebe knew better.

  Since she was ten years old, Phoebe had watched Quentin grow into the man he was today. And nothing about his success was as simple as being overnight. Witnessing his transformation had been beautiful. Something like a poem that started out rough around the edges before forming into beautiful words that shaped the heart of the person speaking them. It started out as a crush. He was, unfortunately, Phoebe’s brother’s best friend. And they had already considered anything romantic between she and Quentin forbidden.

  It was too bad because Phoebe’s crush was developing with each passing day into a soul-stirring love that burned so hot she’d rather swim in a volcano than tussle with it. No one understood the longing she held for him, not even Quentin himself. At first, Phoebe was sure Quentin had a thing for her, too. When she would catch him staring whenever she’d come around. Or even when they exchanged phone numbers when he came back from college. At times he’d play it off as if he was being a caring friend or big brother. But Phoebe needed to be certain. It was like playing mind games trying to figure it out. So, a few weeks before Christmas, Phoebe had built up the courage to confront him. And confront him, she did. Like it was yesterday, the memory cruised through her mind. Phoebe had shown up to one of Quentin’s fitness centers he frequented. Earlier in the month, she’d decided to become an official member of the gym. Not because she needed or wanted to work out, but it was the only excuse she had to see him.

  On this day, she’d entered with her
head held high, and her hair slicked back in a high ponytail, confidence oozing. Wearing tights and a sports bra, Phoebe sauntered through the doors in search of him. Finding Quentin in the back didn’t halt her steps or make her think twice. The courage in her was potent. Her feet moved in his direction, and as she got closer, a stirring in her belly rummaged.

  She found him lifting weights. Ones that she couldn’t raise if her life depended on it, but still she’d told his spotter to take a hike so she could get an overview of his bulging muscles and ripped abs. Phoebe smiled thinking about his tight picturesque frame pushing and bending the bar over his head.

  Quentin’s eyes were closed, and he wore earplugs. As he worked, she watched, and it almost took her out. Without question, Phoebe’s body had torched, and the stirring in her belly had turned into a full-fledged tornado. Quentin had replaced his bar on its base and sat up. With her courage heightened, Phoebe had rushed around to face him and propped her leg up on the bench he sat on.

  Quentin had reached for his towel to blot dry his face, and finally, his gorgeous eyes met hers. A current of heat waved over Phoebe, and when Quentin spoke, the gruffness in his tone had given her an inkling that Phoebe’s appearance threw him off his axis—just as his did hers.

  “I need you to help me with something,” she had said. “An exercise.”

  It was over from there. Quentin and Phoebe ended up in the dance studio behind closed doors. They’d kissed so hard and hungry that a raging population of chills flourished over her skin. Phoebe’s heart had swelled. Finally, they could admit their attraction for one another, but Phoebe’s victory was short-lived when Quentin decided to stop their tongue dance in favor of the oath he’d given her brothers. Or so that’s what he said. Phoebe wasn’t convinced.

  She was done chasing him after that. It was the last thing she had to do. It wasn’t like there was a shortage of men waiting in line to take her out. There were plenty, but none seemed to pique her interest like that of Quentin Davidson. For days, Phoebe’s attitude had been sour. Trying to study some of the information her paralegal had given her for her next court case had been like watching paint dry.

  Her focus had been completely thrown off. And then something unexpected happened. Quentin showed up at her father’s beachside wedding. He’d sauntered down the aisle and quickly found a seat close to the front row. Their eyes met and held immediately, then his mouth moved.

  “Me… You… 2 p.m.”

  That was it. Phoebe’s heartbeat raced, and she’d wondered what their meeting would entail. But much to her chagrin, when Quentin had walked through the door with his eye trained on approaching her at the bar, her brother Jonathon stepped in, unknowingly taking Quentin off of his mission.

  “Aye, brother, what’s going on, what time did you get here?” Jonathon had said.

  Quentin slipped a quick look her way then kept his complete attention on Jonathon. As a matter of fact, it was as if she’d been an afterthought. Jonathon had invited Quentin over to the other side of the restaurant, where he and her other brothers were dining and having a few drinks. Quentin didn’t reject their request, and without another glance back at her, he was gone.

  Phoebe blew out a deep breath. As a criminal justice attorney, Phoebe hadn’t met a case that was harder to break than that of Quentin Davidson. The jet stream in the jacuzzi tub continued to drill into her back. Although Phoebe had never been with a man sexually, her burning desire for Quentin made her feel like the horniest person on earth. The back and forth was driving her crazy, and knowing that he resided in the private villas, in walking distance from where she was, gave Phoebe another round of bravado. Taking the plunge, Phoebe held her breath and sank beneath the heated waters. She hovered there for a second before coming back to the surface. Breathing in air, Phoebe made her way out of the tub and traipsed across the beach, and down the shore.

  A mild breeze sailed into the wind, tussling a few wet strands of hair against her face. The moon was full, and the stars aligned in the dark sky, leading a trail that highlighted her pathway. As her feet sank into the sand, Phoebe’s thoughts were tunneled on one mission alone. When the beach house came into view, Phoebe’s steps paused but only long enough for doubt to creep inside of her. What if he wasn’t alone? How embarrassing would that be? Phoebe took another encouraging step, then paused, unsure of how to proceed.

  Chapter Two

  She didn’t know how bad she affected him. Quentin stood in the living room of the 8,621 square-foot beach house. With his hands resting in the pockets of his casual khaki shorts, he watched her through the glass door. From where he stood, she couldn’t see him looming in the shadows of the night. But he had a clear view of her, the moment her goddess-like figure revealed itself.

  Quentin had been perched on the edge of the pool table, drinking a glass of scotch. With a pool stick in his hand, he made attempt after attempt to focus on anything other than her, but it was futile because every time his mind shifted, there she was.

  “This must’ve been what it was like for Adam in the garden,” he’d whispered. “Presented with the best fruit in all of the land but forbidden to taste.”

  Wanting Phoebe from afar was the most challenging obstacle in Quentin’s existence. He’d fully mastered the way he led his life and dominated every situation thrown in his path. But Phoebe Alexandria Rose had become the one person who could own him, unequivocally. Being best friends with her brothers, Quentin had always seen Phoebe as his own little sister. Back then, she was a skinny, sometimes snaggletooth little girl, with a smart mouth and a thousand plats.

  Separated by four years of age was a big deal then, and whenever his friends would have a problem with some lil boy trying to step to Phoebe or her identical sisters, Jonathon, Jacob, and he would quickly intervene. At the time, it drove Phoebe crazy. According to her, she would never have a boyfriend if they didn’t mind their own business. But her business was his business whether she liked it or not. That friendship was a natural loving one, but when Phoebe turned seventeen, her skinny legs took shape, and her thin hips rounded out.

  Quentin had felt like a full-on pervert watching her one day. And since then, he’d avoided coming close to her like the plague. It was disheartening now because out of all of that evading; it had not put out the fire that burned in him for her.

  Phoebe had blossomed into a beautiful woman, with book smarts that had her graduating high school at sixteen.

  Now, she was an attorney at Rose and Garnet LLC.

  Quentin had never been so thoroughly turned on because of a woman’s brains over her beauty. But Phoebe was one of a kind, and in the torrent depths of Quentin’s mind, she belonged to him. There was just one problem, and it was quite huge. His best friends would kill him. Quentin considered himself a pretty solid guy; he could take on the best of the best.

  But if surrounded by that of the legendary Rose men, he was sure to be exiled after getting a thorough beat down. Quentin had thought about sitting his friends down and having a serious conversation about the nature of his love for Phoebe. It would’ve been a good idea had he not grown up with them. But unfortunately, his brothers from another mother knew him too well. His history with women wasn’t misunderstood. Quentin was the love ‘em and leave ‘em guy. They witnessed his trail of broken hearts and had to assist him with fighting off other brothers, uncles, and sometimes daddies when it came to their precious women. It wasn’t completely Quentin’s fault. The women knew he wasn’t looking to settle down; they went into a steamy night of sexual escapades knowing he would possibly never call again. But it didn’t stop them from falling, and that didn’t stop Quentin from walking away. Now when it came to his forbidden fruit, the odds were stacked against him.

  When Quentin had gotten news that Christopher and Norma would be wed, he quickly rescheduled appointments and redirected calls to his assistant before grabbing the next flight out to Nicaragua.

  The trip was just the excuse he needed to see her again, and when Ph
oebe turned her beautiful face toward him, Quentin had reached for the stars and set a date he had every intention on fulfilling. It was a sweet irony that Jonathon had intervened, even though he had no idea of Quentin’s intentions.

  But if his progress hadn’t been stopped, Quentin would have dragged Phoebe’s sexy ass right back to his space and done God knows what to her. He had called it fate. It just wasn’t meant to be. But now she stood, like an offering in the moonlit night. So close, that he could reach her in four long strides.

  “Go away…” Quentin pleaded, frightened by the activities they would surely get into if she came any closer.

  When Phoebe halted, Quentin could’ve sworn she’d felt his desperate plea, but then she took a bold step. Then another one, and before he knew what happened, Quentin had abandoned his spot for the front door. It creaked open, and he stepped out of the shadows, his broad shoulders bare, and his eyes giving off a sparkling gleam in the moonlight.

  Phoebe paused again, and her heartbeat knocked at the sight of his gorgeous materialization. He didn’t make a move toward her, just stood as if he dared her to venture closer. Phoebe didn’t break many rules. Considering her profession, it was one thing she took pride in. But there was a saying about rules being meant to be broken, and this was one of those times when she didn’t give a damn. As if something inside her snapped, Phoebe’s feet began to move. Seeing her pace accelerate, Quentin freed his hands from his pockets and matched her stride, his legs moving with a force of agility that brought them face to face within seconds.

  As he reached down to gather her up, Phoebe jumped into his arms, and the connection of their skin scorched their bodies and tingled every nerve ending dancing inside them. Their mouths fused together, and their hungriness became greedy. With fervent kissing, they sucked, bit, and pulled at each other’s lips, ravenous and unrelenting.

  Quentin palmed Phoebe’s derriere, placing a squeeze on her ass so tight she yelped into his mouth. A thunderous animalistic growl fled his throat and with her ass in his hands, he rubbed her crotch against his rock-hard shaft, desperate to be inside her.