Hey reading family! Today’s Sunday and I’m bringing you an un-edited sample of my upcoming book and the finale in the Falling for a Rose series, Yours For the Taking. Check out chapter one and leave your thoughts in the comments below!
“Ooooh, yes, yes, baby right there.”
Carla’s thighs quaked as her orgasm built, and the water that pelted her warm flesh created a massage of stimulation against her skin.
“Oh my God, I’m going to come; I’m going to come!”
Her head fell back, and water rained into her mouth as her lips parted, eyes closed.
Her legs buckled, and her hand reached for the tile to find something to hold on to as she began to plummet. Her other hand worked her protruding clitoris as if she were flipping a doorstopper to and fro in an impassioned frenzy.
“Yeah! Yeah! Give it to me like that; that’s the spot!”
A squeal rang from her lips as her orgasm shot tingles to her clit when she came, and slinking against the wall, Carla slid down the slippery tile, her butt plopping to the shower floor.
“Hooooly smokes,” she panted, breathless. Carla drew her knees to her chest, resting her arms there as her bated breaths calmed. “Whew, I need to get laid.” She shook her head and laughed chaotically, like a madwoman who was losing her mind. “And to be calling out Jacob’s name, when the most contact I’ve had with him is, is…”
Carla thought about their last encounter. It had been at the wedding of her cousin London Jones. But their conversation never had a chance to get off the ground as the place bustled with energy, and he was in someone else’s eyesight every time she turned his way. Before that, it had been at the wedding of her newfound friends and triplets of the Rose dynasty.
She’d been standing in the cut, awestruck by the sentimental ceremony, thoroughly filled witnessing the sheer happiness of the brides and grooms when a timbered note broke through her musings.
“A penny for your thoughts,” a dark voice strummed.
A soft smile lifted the corners of her mouth as a spinning web of heat shot into her panties.
“Trust me, my thought’s prices are on the rise. Are you sure you can afford them?” She teased, spinning on her heels to face the dark brown undercut of his sharp chin.
“Give me a second to check my bank account because the way it’s set up…”
Carla tossed her head back and laughed, recognizing his joke before it could be completed. Jacob chuckled.
“Somehow, I gather with all these festivities, you’re ready to take the ultimate plunge.”
A correlating heat swept over Carla’s skin as a rigorous pulse knocked between her thighs. “With you? Maybe. You know, there’s a wedding suite upstairs.”
The guffaw that drummed from his lips caused her nerves to tighten, and he eyed Carla so intensely her spine tingled.
Carla Jones had been pretty upfront about her interest in Jacob Alexander Rose, and he had returned that curiosity. Still, they’d both been keeping that attentiveness at a very low level.
“Yes, I do,” he said, “but before we go there, I’ve got something else to show you first.”
Jacob took Carla’s hand in his. “I’d like to be proper with what I want to say next, so let me ask you, Ms. Carla Jones, are you seeing anyone?”
A trail of unnoticeable chills scurried down Carla’s spine.
“It depends on what you mean by seeing,” she responded. “I have male friends if that’s what you’re asking.”
His gaze lowered. “Does your heart belong to any of these friends?”
“No,” she answered quickly.
His crescent smile lit up the temperature of her flesh, and at the same time, Jacob was internally attempting to comprehend the sudden jealousy that had knotted in his gut.
“Perfezionare,” he responded in an Italian tongue.
Piqued, Carla’s brow rose.
“Perfect,” she finished.
Now it was Jacob’s turn to be surprised as his thick brows dipped. A sudden heat crawled over his skin at her understanding of the foreign language.
“You speak the dialect,” he said, more of a recognition than a question.
“I’m a teacher, Mr. Rose. My studies include language arts and a portion of that deals with teaching foreign linguistic studies at the high school.”
“Ms. Carla Jones,” his deep voice drawled, “you are becoming more fascinating by the second.”
Carla laughed, the melody of her mirth making his heart somersault.
“I’d like to take you out on a date. There’s a restaurant on Thirty-Eight and Magnolia that I think you would enjoy.”
Her heart pattered. “How would you know what I would enjoy?”
Jacob’s tongue traced his lips, and Carla couldn’t help but follow the slip of his wet muscle. She shivered in response. He sucked off his bottom lip with the press of his tongue and teeth.
“We seem to have a connection, yes?”
His grin broadened. “Then humor me and know that I have an inkling of your tastes in mind.”
The magnetic pull of his gaze caught a tactful sparkle in her eye.
“Just say when.”
Jacob held his arm out, and Carla wrapped her arms around it. He pulled her close, giving her a whiff of his Christian Clive cologne.
Assaulted by his masculinity, Carla’s body hummed with delight as her soft frame grooved against the rough ridges of his hard physique.
Dressed in Armani much like the rest of the groomsmen, Jacob’s entire persona was cloaked in dark chocolate skin. The red necktie, pocket square, and the peek of a black button-down shirt highlighted his melanin tone.
Carla remembered when Eden had referred to him as a Lance Gross look-alike, but Carla had refuted that claim. Not because their images weren’t familiar—more so because as handsome as the actor was, her memory of him was that of a comedian from specific roles he’d played. Instead, Jacob carried the maturity of his thirty-eight years immaculately, his charisma laced with the age of a refined gentleman.
“How about tomorrow?”
They strolled arm in arm, the two making their way to the courtyard.
“I’d like that.” She hesitated, then asked, “Dinner?”
They paused, and Jacob eyed her, his gaze simmering as he kept a stronghold on her dark brown orbs.
“I think lunch would be preferable, as dinner would make for a larger appetite.”
Carla shivered, and Jacob felt her quake. “Cold?”
“Not in the least.”
He smirked. “I know you came here with the bridesmaids but save a dance for me, Bellissima.”
“Hmm, you think I’m beautiful?” She questioned his compliment.
He lifted her hand to his mouth for a kiss. “I don’t think. I know. Your spirit complements itself, and of course, your outer beauty is a bonus.”
They proceeded with their stroll, lingering closely as they entered the courtyard just in time to catch the end of Jonathon Alexander Rose’s speech.
It wasn’t ironic that their seats were beside one another since they’d been paired up in their walk down the aisle during the ceremony.
He pulled out her chair, and she sat. Then he swiftly took his seat, relaxing as their attention was pulled toward the speaker.
Carla was feeling particularly spicy that night. If Jacob would’ve taken her seriously when she mentioned the bridal suite, they would’ve disappeared long before they made it into the dining hall.
She shivered, imaging her feet planted as she rode his dick, ass slapping against his hard thighs while she cried out from the puncture of his solid shaft.
“Damn, damn, damn.”
Her body tingled as her thoughts ignited with pleasure.
But unfortunately, the date that they scheduled never happened.
Jacob Alexander Rose was a world-renowned architect. His designs had caught the attention of the Royals of Kéra Asnela, and as such, they’d requested a meeting on the same day of their date.
The day that his handsome face and intense gaze lit up her phone’s screen, her pussy became a whac-a-moling jolt of activity that made her rush to answer.
His tone was immediately regretful, and she knew the call wouldn’t spawn into the pleasantries she imagined it to.
“I promise to make up for missing out on what I know will be a great time with you.”
Carla smirked. “Damn right it would be.”
Jacob’s baritone guffaw churned the butterflies in her belly.
“Did you save my number in your phone?” He asked.
“Of course I did.”
A dark rumble splintered her flesh. Carla twisted on her toes.
“Did you save my number?”
“How else would I have called, Bellissima?”
She shrugged. “Good point.”
“Okay, well, I won’t keep you. But don’t forget about me.”
And although he’d said it, hearing from Jacob felt like it had been forever. In reality, it had only been a few months.
“Still,” Carla said, finally catching her breath.
On shaky legs, she pushed from the wet tile and stood to her feet, showering efficiently and stepping out just as her cell phone rang.
Sasha, Carla’s Bichon Frise, jogged up to her feet as if she were waiting for Carla to get out of the shower. She wagged her tail, indicated she wanted to be petted.
Wrapping a towel around her body, Carla dropped to pet Sasha, then scooped Sasha in her arms as she exited the lavatory and entered her bedroom, finding her cell on a dresser.
“Well don’t sound so excited, will ya?”
A smile peaked at the edges of Carla’s mouth.
“Hey Tina, what’s going on girl?”
“I’m calling to see if you’re coming to our show tonight. We could use the support you know.”
Carla smirked. Tina Braddon was the lead singer in the local Chicago group Genesis Rising. She, Chelsea Bellamy, and Lisa Sharpton were three of Carla’s closest friends. Usually, Carla would be at most of their shows, but tonight, she wasn’t feeling particularly up to it.
“I know, and I just got out of the shower, but I also know, with the way the group’s popularity has grown, that you’ve probably got a packed house.”
“That is beside the point,” Tina whispered shouted. “And besides needing your support, it’s New Year’s Eve. You can’t celebrate alone at that house. Come out, bring in the New Year with us.”
Carla laughed. “Okay, fine, I’ll be there as soon as I can get myself together.”
Carla’s line beeped just then, and taking her eyes to the screen, her heart did a jig behind her breasts. Jacob’s mesmerizing gaze stared back at her, and she almost hung up in Tina’s face.
“Okay, talk to you soon!” She clicked over. “Hello?” She crooned, her voice coming out sultrily.
“Bellissima, I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”