The Sweetest Surrender (Falling For A Rose Book 8) Read online

  This time, Selena squeezed Jordan’s hand. They had more in common than she knew, no matter how opposite their personalities were.

  “Home sweet home,” Jordan sang.

  Selena took her gaze from his handsome face to the high-rise industrial loft, and her eyes bulged. Since they’d been dating, Selena had never gone to his home because they were both always on the go; Jordan more so than Selena.

  “Wow, this is all you?” Selena inquired.

  “Yeah, it’s pretty swanky,” he said.

  “I bet. I’m ready to call it home already,” she joked.

  Jordan kept his eyes on Selena. “No takebacks.”

  Chapter Ten

  They had to take an outside elevator just to get inside. Selena had never seen anything structurally built like Jordan’s home before. After stepping into the elevator, Jordan grabbed her hand and linked their fingers again. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key that fit the lock against the elevator wall. The lock opened, revealing a keypad where he then entered a code and simultaneously it asked him to speak.

  “Jordan Alexander Rose,” his thick voice grounded out.

  The system accepted his voice, and they rode to the penthouse floor.

  “Security is no joke, huh?”

  Jordan smirked. “I was fine with just a code, but my brother, Jacob, built this place, and he’s a bit anal about security.”

  “Wait, your brother Jacob built this place, seriously?”

  “Yeah, he’s the architect of the bunch.” Jordan smirked at the amazement on Selena’s face. Within a few seconds, they reached their destination. When Jordan turned Selena around to face the back of the elevator, the doors receded, and they stepped out onto hardwood floors that shone like they’d just been pristinely buffed.

  “Whoa,” Selena murmured; she tried to keep her mouth closed, but the magnificence of the room swept her away.

  Natural moonlight crept through the wall of windows dashing across the floorboards and countertops. The living room held a massive architectural fireplace, modern furnishings, and a chandelier was competing next to the fireplace for the centerpiece of the room.

  “Jordan, this is beautiful…” Selena said, staring at the crystals dangling from the chandelier.

  He enjoyed watching her admire the space. Selena appeared giddy with excitement, and he loved to see her smile.

  “Do you live here alone? I mean, this place has to be about—”

  “Four thousand square feet,” he stated matter of fact.

  Selena’s mouth opened wider.

  “And of course, I live here alone. But the building does have two other occupants on the first two floors below.

  “Wait don’t tell me.” She held her arms out to stop his revelation. “Beyoncé and Pharrell, am I right?”

  Jordan laughed. “No, silly girl.” He strolled up to her and wrapped her in his arms.

  “Are you sure because I can’t imagine anyone else can afford this.”

  “Neither of them pays rent, if that’s what you mean. I own the entire loft, but my chef lives on the second floor, and my fitness trainer on the third.”

  Selena nodded slowly. “Because you don’t have time to cook your own food,” she said.

  “Or, visit a regular gym,” he finished.

  Selena chuckled. “Damn, must be nice.”

  Jordan shrugged. “It’s all right. The more you’re around, the more you’ll get used to it.”

  Selena pointed to herself. “Me, you’re talking about me, right?”

  Jordan chuckled. “Of course.” He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, and Selena shivered.

  “Come on, you haven’t seen the rest of the place.”

  He took her hand and gave Selena a tour of the remaining conservatory as Selena gawked at each new area they entered. The office was bigger than Selena’s office at work; she didn’t know whether to feel shame or awe.

  “I could positively work in here,” she said, taking her eyes around the large cherry oak desk, plush shaggy carpet, Barcelona chairs, and an aerial bookshelf.

  “Oooh, I envy your bookshelf,” she said, watching how the cherry oak design spanned the length of the wall completely. “Have you read all of these books,” she asked, strolling up to the mantelpiece.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Selena walked the tips of her fingers across the books as she eyed each one to see what Jordan had been reading. Among them were a few classics. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou. The Autobiography of Malcolm X. Dreams from My Father by Barak Obama. Devil in A Blue Dress by Walter Moseley.

  Selena strolled, continuing to eye the books as Jordan watched her. Feeling his eyes following her movements sent a tingling up her spine and instantly Selena warmed. She unbuttoned the jacket and pulled out of it just as Jordan approached to help.

  “Thank you,” Selena said, shrugging out of the thick coat.

  “Anytime, love.”

  His voice was so close to her ear Selena squirmed from his proximity.

  “Are you hungry?”

  Now that he mentioned it, Selena was a little hungry, but her appetite for him was a bit more edacious.

  “What do you have?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  Selena turned to him then, taking her eyes away from the books.

  “Whatever I want?” she said with a raised brow. “Are you telling me that your chef will cook at whatever time you call?”

  Jordan seemed amused.

  “It’s not that late.” He glanced at his Rolex. “A little after ten.”

  Just then, Selena’s stomach growled, making Jordan chuckle.

  “See all this talking about food has my stomach reacting to the possibility of a home-cooked meal. And eating this late is sure to put some extra weight on my thighs.”

  Jordan ran a wicked eye over Selena, making sure to touch her with his all-pervading gaze. “Trust me, Selena,” he moved forward and slipped his arms around her waist, “nothing about what you just said makes me want to deny you food. Tell me exactly what you desire, and it will be yours.”

  Selena swallowed down an involuntary quiver. If this man didn’t stop, she would take him up on everything he had to offer. Selena was not the coy type of girl.

  “I have no idea, surprise me,” she said.

  “Okay, so you don’t like green peppers, onions, or fish,” he said, remembering a conversation they had over the phone.

  Selena smiled, delighted that Jordan recalled that exchange. It seemed like one of the smallest things to consider, but it warmed her inside all the same. “Awe, you listened to me.”

  Jordan paused. “You didn’t think I did?”

  Selena laughed. “Sometimes the details are easily forgettable.”

  “Not when you’re interested in what the speaker has to say,” he quipped. They smiled at each other.

  “Well, yeah, you are a good listener.”

  He kissed the side of her temple then pulled back, moving swiftly across the room. At his desk, he lifted the phone and punched a three-number combo then waited.

  “Hey, Charley, are you busy?”

  He listened to his personal chef’s response.

  “Starved,” he said, keeping a fierce eye trained on Selena.

  She squirmed under his vulturine gaze and wondered if Jordan meant her when he referenced starvation.

  “We’ll keep it light,” Jordan said. “Perfect. Thank you.” Jordan sat the phone back on its base. “Come,” he closed the distance and reached for Selena’s hand, tightening his fingers with hers to pull Selena along. “You’ve yet to see the best room in the house.”

  Affectionately, Selena slipped under his arm. They left the office and strolled down a hallway with more hardwood flooring. Picture frames sat along the tan interior wall like canvases in a museum. As they passed, Selena noticed a few familiar faces. Jordan’s brothers, sisters, and father were among some of them. Others were pictures of Jordan with businessmen; some a
t events where he’d been given a pro bono and public service award.

  Selena’s steps paused. “How often are you assigned to a pro bono case,” she asked.

  “Assigned?”

  “Let me take that back, boss man.”

  “It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

  Selena laughed. “The question is how often do you take on pro bono cases?”

  “At Rose and Garnett, we’ve set a limit of twenty-five pro bono cases a year.”

  Selena nodded as their steps continued down the corridor.

  “Do you get a lot of requests for those type of cases?”

  “Plenty.”

  “Who decides which ones to take?”

  “It varies on a case-by-case basis. First and foremost, we look at income. If the defendant is someone who could afford us without a problem, we reach out to them and allow them to hire us as their attorneys. If they can’t afford us, we look at the subject matter. Cases involving children get priority, then everything else. Rose and Garnet is a diverse firm. Our lawyers specialize in family law, corporate, civil rights, criminal, and entertainment law. It’s the number one reason our client list is the leading and most prominent in Chicago.

  “Sounds like a one-stop shop.”

  “Something like that,” he said.

  They made a left and stepped into the master suite. Selena’s eyes lurched. The area was gigantic in size and looked like something out of a Better Homes and Garden magazine. Jordan released Selena’s hand as she moved slowly into the room, her feet sinking into the lavish carpet. She traveled over to the lounge area that boasted modern clean-lined furniture, another fireplace, luxury fixtures, tables, lamps and the like. Jordan flipped a switch, and instead of overhead lighting, sconces sat along the wall, illuminating the room with an iridescent glow. Selena’s mouth hung partly open as she took in the grandiosity of the room.

  “Have mercy,” she said, planting her hands on her hips. She pivoted quickly on her heels. “Do you actually use this room?”

  Jordan smirked. “Every day.”

  Selena shook her head. “There’s no way you live here every day.”

  Jordan folded his arms. “Why not?”

  Selena took a finger and swiped the edges of a table. “There’s not a single speck of dust in here. Where are the shoes you left by the table, or the coffee mug sitting on the ring from this morning before you left to go to work, or the loads of paper you were going over from a case while being at home?” She paused. “I guess my real question is, where is your sign of life in this room?”

  Jordan was thoughtful of Selena’s inquiry. “So, because I don’t have things sitting out of place, it looks like no one lives here?”

  Selena backpedaled just a bit. “I don’t mean it should be messy, don’t get me wrong, but my goodness, there’s no sign that an actual person lives here.”

  “I have a housekeeper,” he said. “She’s amazing.”

  “She?”

  Jordan nodded; the smirk on his face, unwavering. Selena was all for equal opportunity, but she didn’t want another female in his house. Selena didn’t care if she was sixty years old. Women didn’t stop flirting, functioning or having a sex life because they got older.

  “Mmmm,” Selena said. She began to stroll again, walking through another door that opened the area even wider. A gasp left her lips, more floor to ceiling glass walls. Even the master bathroom was blocked by a glass partition. The drapery and design of the interior turned into a cozy sanctuary. The maroon and gold colors set a sexy atmosphere, and just when Selena didn’t think the room could be outdone, she spotted the showpiece. The bed.

  Massive in size, Selena approached its colossal configuration. It was definitely fit for a king. Royalty even. The cherry oak wood arms stretched to the ceiling with a beautiful cherry oak headboard. Selena sank her hands into the mattress and realized she would literally have to jump just to get on top. A smile curved her lips, and she chuckled.

  “The size of this thing is crazy!” Her mouth fell open. It wasn’t as if she’d never seen a king size bed before. But this was everything. There was a split-second when her mind ventured to the sexcapades they could get into on the platform. Just as she tried to shake them away, Jordan’s deep voice drawled behind her.

  “You should get on top and see how it feels.”

  The suggestion caused a rippling heat to scour down her neck. Selena closed her eyes for a second then inhaled and exhaled a steady breath. Suddenly, she was excited by the idea that Jordan was going to rock her boat on top of this bed. She was going to do the same. A moment past when Selena realized she was no longer interested in food. She turned around to him and slipped her arms around his neck.

  “Why don’t you help me get on top… counselor…” she smiled seductively.

  A deliberate voracious smile eased onto Jordan’s lips, and he reached down, cupping his hands right below the creases in her bottom as he lifted Selena, dragging her against the hard wall of his chest. Taking a step forward, Jordan sat her buttocks on the mattress, and the stirring caused Selena to moan. The mixture of firm and softness of the mattress was surprising. With the tip of her finger, Selena reached out to touch underneath Jordan’s strong jawline. Her fingers moved down the column of his throat, and he shuddered. Then, his eyes darkened.

  A phone rang in the distance at the same time the doorbell sounded.

  “Room service,” Jordan growled, leaning into Selena for a sealed kiss. At the moment, the only room service either of them wanted to have was each other. Their mouths sank as their lips pushed against one another, tasting the details of their orifices. A blubbering wave of tonic swept through them both, and they liquefied into each other. Jordan braced his palms on both sides of Selena; his big hands sinking into the mattress as he ate up her mouth. Selena’s hand fiddled for his shirt, pulling it in almost a gripping yank to relive him of it.

  The doorbell rang a second time, and so did the phone.

  They’d all go away in a minute, Selena presumed. Had she said that out loud? She paused a second, but when Jordan didn’t react to it, she breathed even, assuming it was just a mere thought. Much to his chagrin, Jordan eased back and ran another wicked eye over Selena sitting ripe for the taking in his bed. He planted his hands on his waist and struggled with answering the ringing doorbell and phone or saying fuck it and letting everyone linger. A deep breath escaped him.

  “Don’t move,” he said.

  “I hadn’t planned to.” Selena batted her long eyelashes, and Jordan had to coach himself away from her to answer the door. As he disappeared out of the room, Selena removed her heels and fishnet stockings. She took a hand through her hair and finger-combed her tresses. When she went to remove her dress, Selena paused. Would it absolutely make her look thirsty if she got down to the bare minimum?

  She thought about it a moment more when she heard Jordan’s deep voice trailing down the hallway. He was talking to someone. It sounded serious, his voice professional. Oh no. When he re-entered the room, the look on his face said everything.

  Selena folded her arms. “Let me guess,” she said, “there’s a fire that no one can put out but you. Am I right?”

  Jordan blew out a harsh breath, and Selena fell back with her hands splayed above her head. It was no wonder Jordan was single. He never had a moment to really enjoy life. Before she could complain, he was upon her. His palms slipped up her bare legs, sending a riveting thrill of pleasure coursing through her pussy.

  “If you get your hands any closer, I can’t guarantee she won’t bite,” Selena said. The wicked admonition made Jordan groan. “It’s okay,” she tried convincing herself. “I need to get to work tomorrow anyway, and I don’t have clothes with me here, so,” she sat up, “if you can drop me off on the way to wherever you’re going, that would be fine.”

  “No.”

  Selena arched her brow. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re not going home. You’re staying here. I’ll be right b
ack.” He turned and strolled out of the room then stepped back inside. “There’s food in the dining area. Ceviche-styled Shrimp Tostadas, with a little avocado and mango salsa. Enjoy as many as you like. I won’t take long.”

  Jordan disappeared again, without giving Selena a moment to protest.

  Chapter Eleven

  When Jordan returned, the first thing he noticed was the silence. He skimmed an eye around the place and strolled into the dining area. There were no signs of Selena, but there was evidence that she’d eaten some of the food Charley prepared since the buffet tray top sat crooked, and a glass of water was perched next to it. Jordan smirked. In all the years he lived in the penthouse, Jordan never saw anything wrong with being superbly tidy. But in the small time Selena was there, seeing signs of her company in his place softened Jordan’s heart and made the residence feel more like home.

  Leaving the area, Jordan removed his sweater and at the same time his long legs stretched the length of the hallway, carrying him into the bedroom. Upon entry, Jordan was met with more little signs of Selena’s presence. The dress she wore lay on the floor as he passed the sofa sitting in the lounge. It made him instantly hard to think Selena was no longer in it. His steps increased as he moved quietly through the room to enter the quarters of his bedroom. It was dark, as if she’d turned out the lights to hide from him. The closer he got to the bed, the more Selena came into view.

  As Jordan stepped in front of her, a heartfelt smile trekked along his face, and his blood thawed from head to toe. There she was, lying comfortably in his bed sleeping soundly, wearing only his shirt; a button down, he wore with one of his tailored suits. It swallowed Selena’s small frame and brown skin. Her thick thighs spread from just beneath it as the shirt tapered off midway. A rummaging fluttered in his chest like a raging storm. She had been in his closet, possibly playing around in his clothes. Selena was just that type; playful, silly, full of life. Jordan had first noticed it when his family got together over the summer last year for fellowship and a hearty game of football. The men had grounded it out, playing dirty in the grass before the women decided to turn up the heat.