She panted. Actually, huffed and puffed as if she’d been taken on a ride so riveting it made her dizzy. If he could do that from a mere dance, Selena could only imagine what he could do between the sheets. That made her nerves spiral with excitement and anticipation.
The song changed, and Selena twirled back around to face him.
“Look what you did…” he said, glancing down at his jeans.
Selena didn’t need to look to know. She’d felt that monster poking at her backside throughout that dance. Selena sucked her teeth.
“This we can fix,” she said suggestively.
Jordan’s gaze receded into a nocturnal shade.
“I hope you two don’t mind if I interrupt for a second,” Octavia said, coming to stand by their side.
They heard her, but neither of them moved their eyes away as they continued to mull over Selena’s insinuation.
“Wassup?” Jordan said.
“I need to corner my girl for a minute,” Octavia replied. “I promise to bring her back before you can blink.”
It was then that Selena glanced at her friend. Octavia’s lips were pursed with an eyebrow raised. Just then, Jonathon slapped Jordan on the back then tossed an arm around his neck.
“Take a walk with me, brother,” he said.
It was like taking candy from a baby, trying to pull the pair apart as neither of them wanted to leave each other’s side.
“I’ll be back,” Jordan said, reaching out to tweak her chin.
Selena blushed and nodded silently, unable to find words that would compete with the fluttering conundrum in her chest. Jonathon pulled Jordan away, and Octavia stepped in front of Selena with her arms crossed, breaking through Selena’s fog.
“Sooo,” Octavia drawled, “what was that you were saying about being single?”
Chapter Nine
Selena pursed her lips. “Did you break up our moment to come over here and say I told you so?”
Octavia shrugged. “Yeah,” she admitted, chuckling.
Selena shook her head with a leering smirk. “First of all,” she started, “where the hell did they come from?”
Selena turned to find Jordan and Jonathon. They stood at the bar engaged in a separate conversation.
“I told you when we came in here, Jonathon knew we were having drinks tonight.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t say you told him where, when, and what time, girl.”
“What’s the problem? Looks like you and Mr. Googly Eyes are doing just fine.”
“Yeah, after he caught me dancing with somebody else. That just felt deceptive.”
“I tried to stop you. Oh, but no, you wouldn’t listen to little ol’ me.”
“If you had told me there was a chance of them showing up, then I would have listened.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You know why? Because Selena had a chip on her shoulder.” Octavia mocked. “I take it you asked him about Madison.”
When Selena didn’t respond, Octavia let out a heavy sigh. “Tell me you did.”
“Not exactly.”
Octavia’s eyes bucked. “Seriously, Selena, the only way you’ll feel better about what you guys are doing is if you ask the question.”
“I said not exactly,” Selena repeated then huffed. “If you must know—”
“Yes, I must know, as much as you were in my business…” Octavia mumbled.
“God, you are not going to let me live that down, are you?”
“You already know the answer to that.”
Selena sighed. “Okay, I get it, so here goes. We are officially exclusive… I think.”
“Sa-lenaaa,” Octavia groaned.
Selena giggled. “I’m just kidding, seriously. We are.”
Octavia twisted her lips. She peered at Selena as Selena continued to chuckle.
“Seriously,” Selena echoed. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”
The overhead lights dimmed as the owner of the club, Ms. Tamara Jenkins, strolled to the microphone in the middle of the stage. She was a sixty-four-year-old spicy woman, with a bob cut hairstyle that was jet black with a single lock of gray driving down the middle. She smiled demurely then spoke through the mic; her throaty voice purring across the room.
“Good evening.”
Everyone responded, “Good evening.”
The woman clasped her hands together. “I want to thank you all for being in attendance tonight. For two hours every Tuesday and Wednesday, we open the mic to any lovers, poets, or the like to get a few words off their chest.” The owner took her eyes around the room. “Is there anybody out there…” she crooned.
Selena pulled her attention back to Octavia just as a small leering smile crept across her lips.
“Don’t even think about it,” Selena said, knowing what Octavia was thinking.
Selena had put her writing tools away to focus on a degree that would offer her financial freedom, which is why she was now a successful financial advisor. Playing with words, regardless of how deep-rooted they flowed, didn’t pay the bills at the end of the day. But just as Octavia went to speak, a deep voice thundered through the mic.
“This is dedicated to someone… who is as candied on the inside as she is on the out.” Selena whipped around to stare at him in awe. Jordan paused. “I call it à la mode.” The mellow tune of a saxophone filled the room as Jordan took his eyes over the sea of people then back to rest on Selena. He hadn’t even spoken a word yet, and already her heartbeat accelerated double time as he cleared his throat. The audience tuned in becoming deathly silent.
“A temptress in your own right
Unforgettable; a saccharine delight
Coated with a fragrance that hypnotizes me
Only, to keep me up at midnight
Images of you replay through my mind
Soft, warm, divine…
The absence of your presence has me lost in a rhyme
Wanting, needing, a lifetime
Is it possible to have someone so sublime?
Caressing my soul even at bedtime
The celestial creation of your sound, body, and mind
Keeps me locked inside your paradigm
Let’s not pretend to be just fine
Come home with me girl, let’s unwind
Because the fever that burns within me is an extension of you and everything that we must do
Shake off your doubts and fears sweetheart, it’s time you let me love you.”
The crowd snapped, and whistles scoured from women in the crowd. Spellbound, Selena couldn’t blink as she followed the motion of Jordan’s lips as he continued.
Sweet as honey
Dessert overflowed
Coffee brown sugar; à la mode.”
The crowd was buzzing, and a throbbing between Selena’s legs damn near knocked her over. He was a fan of spoken word; not only that, a nurturer of the language. Selena’s heart bumped against her breast, and she could feel her pulse quicken. As she stood there, stuck, Jordan left the stage and strolled over to her as more whistles and snaps elevated. Envious stares and whispers went throughout as every eye in the place followed his path.
When he paused in front of her, Selena could only stare at him, amazed. She should’ve known. They’d been dating for almost two months now, and his patterns had all the makings of a poet. She was in love. It was official. The feeling was so unexpected she could cry. Not from sadness, but from reserved happiness coupled by an unrestrained fear. Selena didn’t want to think about the possibilities of their failure; didn’t want to allude to the fear of loving him only to lose him. She wanted to toss those anxieties to the side and never consider them again.
“Come home with—”
“Yes,” she said quickly before he could get the words out. Selena didn’t want to think about it. There were no more calculations to be added in that moment. Jordan had finally done what she wanted, and his invitation was fully accepted.
A smile formed on his spectacular lips, and he pulled her in and k
issed Selena’s mouth. A spiraling jolt cruised around them, sending shards of heat across their skin. Selena’s hands sailed up Jordan’s arms and sank into his neck. She gripped him and kissed him hungrily, and Jordan responded with fervor.
“You’re still on the dance floor…” a nearby voice called.
Selena smiled against his lips, and her open mouth gave Jordan an invitation to consume her further. His tongue traveled down her throat, hot, spicy, and wet. Immediately, Selena closed her mouth around his slippery soft muscle, and they both moaned together.
A throat cleared, and Selena blinked, lost in her own state of abandon. Slowly, Jordan pulled back, but his hands stayed plucked into the skin of Selena’s back.
“Girl,” he said, “you trying to take advantage of me on the dance floor?”
He peered at her conspiratorially, and Selena giggled.
“Maybe,” she admitted.
A rumble trekked from Jordan. “Maybe I am, too,” he said.
Finally, giving them some attention, Selena and Jordan glanced over at Octavia and Jonathon standing next to them in a sweet cuddle of their own. Jonathon reached out, and he and Jordan slapped hands.
“That was nice, brother. Real nice.”
“I guess you’re next then, huh?” Octavia quipped.
“Yeah, let me go on up here and romance your fine ass from the stage.”
Octavia and Selena laughed while Jordan chuckled.
“Now this I’ve got to see,” Jordan said.
“Nah, I’m just playing. But I know somewhere else I can romance you,” Jonathon said.
They all laughed again.
“There’s no better time like the present,” Octavia said.
Jonathon looked at his brother. “Ayo, we’re going to get on out of here, we both have work in the morning.”
Jordan laughed. “Aye, man, you don’t have to make up anything to go spend time with your woman. We were getting ready to ditch ya’ll anyway.”
The couples laughed, and they all strolled from the dance floor to the table where the men helped the ladies put on their coats. Leisurely, Jordan tossed an arm around Selena’s shoulder as they strolled to the exit.
Outside, the wind was in an uproar, tussling and whirling around, causing the women to snuggle into their jackets. Jordan turned to Selena and swept her off her feet like a husband would carry his wife over the threshold. He ran across the street with Selena giggling and her arms draped across his neck as her lips pressed into his throat. The heat from her mouth tingled his spine and made his dick pitch.
Selena had been doing things to his body, mind, and spirit ever since he met her. Jordan considered himself lucky in the past; having no selfish relationships, and no hard break-ups. He was unlike most of his brothers and friends- the one who kept to himself, studied profusely, questioned politicians, and stood on the sidelines with his sister Jasmine when it came to equal opportunities. He had relationships here and there, but they were never serious. The women he’d dated weren’t high profile, keeping his relationships a secret from the media.
Until he met Madison Santari. It happened on a rare occasion while Jordan, Quentin, and Derek vacationed at The Hamptons in New York.
Jordan was laying on a beach towel with a shine on his bulging chocolate biceps and tight muscled abs. Sunglasses were strewn across his eyes when Madison walked up, hovering over Jordan like a ghost.
“Mr. Rose,” she crooned.
Jordan opened his eyes and looked at her from behind his shades.
“I seemed to have run out of suntan lotion. Do you mind sharing some of yours?” She motioned to the lotion sitting next to him in the sand. “I promise not to walk away with it. Matter of fact, you can apply it. That way you’re guaranteed not to lose it.”
Jordan smirked, as if it would kill him to lose a bottle of suntan lotion. He didn’t usually give in to flirtation tactics such as this, but that day he was feeling indifferent. So on a whim, Jordan offered Madison a sexy boastful smile as his eyes took in her light skin, small breasts, bare stomach, and barely-there thong. It was his damn libido that responded to her well-rounded thighs and optimistic smile.
“Why don’t you come sit right here?” he’d said, and the rest was history. That was a year ago. Since then, Madison found herself in his circle more often than ever. As if she could sense he was dating, she’d begun to call on a regular basis. Their conversations were always light, some type of charity work that needed volunteers, or a project that Jordan could be an asset too. It seemed friendly enough, which was why he continued to take her calls. But sometimes those calls came at the wrong time, like the night before when he and Selena were together. Jordan wasn’t fooled by Selena’s sudden attitude, but he wasn’t accustomed to fighting outside of the courtroom. So, without going into it, he left without another word about it.
Unlocking the door, Jordan placed Selena inside his Porsche Panamera and closed the door quickly. The wind continued to whip as he strode around the luxury vehicle to the driver side. The car rocked slightly when he closed the door, and the engine purred when Jordan turned it over. Instantly, heat sailed from the vents, and Selena snuggled into the warmed seats.
“I’ve always loved a car with heated seats,” she said.
“Your car doesn’t have heated seats?”
“Yeah if you tape a heating pad on the back and butt of the interior. But then I’d need a car charger for it to work properly.”
Jordan’s easy-grooving voice dipped into a thunderous laugh. Selena snickered and watched him chuckle at her joke. He was so easy on the eyes, and his spirit was so attractive. Selena loved the way he carried himself. Jordan reached over and caressed her chin.
“Silly girl,” he said, reaching around Selena to shelter her with the seat belt. Jordan exited the parking lot, and he and Jonathon blew their horns as they passed each other going in opposite directions.
“I didn’t know you were into poetry. What else don’t I know about you?” Selena asked.
Jordan cracked a smile. “I have a foot fetish,” he said.
This intrigued Selena for sure.
“Now that’s something a girl should absolutely know.”
Jordan chuckled. “How should I have come out and said it?”
After Selena pondered on it, she said, “You’re right, that would’ve been a little crazy to say, I love feet.”
Jordan laughed heartily again while simultaneously nodding.
“Right…” he drawled.
“So that means I get to see your feet then?”
Jordan quirked a brow up at her. “How’s that?”
“Anyone who has a foot fetish must have spectacular toes.”
Jordan guffawed again. “I guess I’ll let you be the judge of that.”
Selena nodded. “Mmhmm. We’ve got something in common, Mr. Rose.”
Jordan perked. “Yeah, what’s that. You like toes, too?”
“Not exactly. I have a shoe fetish. That runs a close second, doesn’t it?”
Jordan guffawed again and slipped his hand in her lap to massage her thigh as he chuckled. The warmth from his heated palm sent a blaze of energy coursing down her lap straight to the sensitive flesh between her thighs. Selena squeezed her legs tight, and her nipples tingled.
The couple made it across town in no time as Jordan’s Porsche Panamera pushed past the speed limits.
“Careful, counselor,” Selena crooned. “If you don’t slow down, you might get a ticket.”
Jordan pulled his bottom lip with his teeth. “That would be despicable,” he joked. “Could you see the outrage? ‘Celebrity Attorney, Jordan Alexander Rose was pulled over for a speeding ticket late last night. He was apparently leaving a club where he’d drank booze and dragged a woman to his home while inebriated’.”
Selena laughed, and Jordan winked.
“That’s how they sound, right?” he asked.
“Man, oh man, you’re so spot on. My mother called me today at work. She almost d
ied that the newspaper called us police vigilantes.” Selena shook her head. “Who comes up with this stuff? Do they even know what a vigilante is?”
“Apparently not,” Jordan’s voice grew serious. “Don’t worry about that, I’m handling it.” Jordan heard the solemnness in her voice when Selena spoke about her parents.
“Thank you,” Selena said. “I hope it’s not too much trouble. My mother was all ready to sue everyone in Chicago for running those stories.”
“Smart woman,” Jordan countered. “How is she?”
Selena sighed. “She said my father is staying at the Ritz Carlton.” Selena’s somber expression deepened. “He showed up minutes after I spoke with her, and we got into it.”
Jordan reached out, taking a soothing hand up and down her shoulder. “Baby, I’m sorry you’re going through this.”
Selena offered a tiny smile. She hadn’t missed his endearment, but the subject matter was so depressing Selena couldn’t rejoice in it.
“My father is saying the same things my mother is, and it’s driving me bananas. I don’t know how to cope. Is this normal?” She glanced over at him, and Jordan reached for her hand and entangled their fingers.
“Certainly,” he said.
“I’m constantly thinking I’m wrong for feeling as if I’m drowning.” Selena shook her head. “Maybe I should see a therapist or something.”
“I know someone who could help.”
Selena held her eyes on him. “A therapist?”
Jordan nodded. “She’s a gem.”
“Have you ever been in therapy before?”
Jordan became quiet as his thoughts shuffled.
“Yes.” He squeezed her hand lightly. “It was a long time ago when I couldn’t cope with my mother’s absence.”
That was putting it mildly, Selena thought. The first time she’d heard about Jordan’s mom being killed in a home invasion, Selena was shocked. Who would do such a thing and why? The worst part about it all was everyone was home at the time of the murder except for Jordan’s father. Christopher Lee Rose had been at work, and Selena was sure he most likely felt most of the blame. But Jordan and his brothers were kids, and his sisters merely newborns. It was a blessing the intruders left them alive with the brutal way his mother was shot down.
The Sweetest Surrender (Falling For A Rose Book 8) Page 7