His San Diego Sweetheart

by Yahrah St. John

  When the evening came to a close, Vaughn slid his arm around Miranda’s waist as they said their goodbyes to Chef Jean, Jordan and his date and the other couples. It had been a wonderful evening despite her anxiety over what might happen when they got home.

  * * *

  “Everything alright?” Vaughn inquired once they made it back to his estate. “You were quiet for most of the ride home.” Usually they shared a great rapport, but tonight he’d caught her covert stares beneath long mascara-coated lashes. Her awareness of him had grown as the meal had progressed even though she’d attempted to hide it. He was glad when the evening ended.

  “It’s nothing.” Miranda threw her clutch purse on the table by the front door.

  Vaughn grasped her shoulder and turned her around to face him. “Don’t say it’s nothing when something is clearly bothering you. Just talk to me.”

  When he released her, she folded her arms across her chest. “How many girlfriends have you had?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’d like to know how many you’ve had. Jordan indicated that there’s quite a laundry list.”

  Vaughn scowled. “Jordan had no right to speak about my affairs which are none of his business.” He started toward the living room and went straight to the wet bar. He didn’t appreciate being questioned about his past when it had nothing to do with them and their burgeoning relationship. He’d tried to be the best man he could be and still it wasn’t enough.

  “Is that what they were? Affairs?” She followed him into the room, her heels clicking on the marble floor.

  Vaughn counted to ten as he poured himself a drink. He’d been on edge half the night, watching Miranda laugh and talk with Jordan while he was marooned with the boring A-list actress who couldn’t stop talking about her next movie. Meanwhile his wife appeared a little too friendly with Jace, in his opinion.

  “If you’re asking me if I lived like a monk, I didn’t. There were women, Miranda, but I was never serious about any of them.” He turned to her to see her reaction. “Does that help?”

  She nodded, casting her eyes downward. “Yes.”

  “And you? I know there had to be someone special because I’ve been paying for their mistakes.”

  When she glanced up, her expression was crestfallen and Vaughn hated himself for bringing it up, but he had to if they were going to get past it. “Any man who didn’t want you, Miranda, or didn’t know what he had with you was a fool.”

  Tears clouded her eyes and he couldn’t stand the vulnerability he saw on her face. He placed his tumbler on the cocktail table, went toward her, lowered his head and brushed his lips softly across hers. He didn’t want to alarm her, but all the air in the room was whooshing out of his lungs and only Miranda could fill the vacuum it left behind. So he kissed her again, moving his lips more solidly overs hers.

  “Don’t do this, Vaughn,” she whispered when the cool tip of his tongue met her parting lips.

  “I can’t help myself,” he murmured, stroking his tongue with hers as the taste of her filled his mouth, “and neither can you.” His control was slipping, had been for weeks because she’d stirred a need that could no longer be denied. The silk and cloth between them was a hindrance because he hungered for her and she needed to feel exactly what she was doing to him.

  Vaughn pulled Miranda into his arms. She went to him this time, unresisting and eager for the passion she knew was waiting there. He cradled her jaw in his hand, lifted her face until it met his and kissed her harder. And this time, some of the tension bunched up in her shoulders slowly began to unwind.

  “I’ve been thinking about kissing you all night long. Thinking about doing this.” His lips moved from her lips and trailed a path of light kisses to the curve of her throat. “Kissing you here. Touching you.” His hands splayed out so he could bring her backside closer to him and she could feel the firm ridge of his arousal against her middle.

  He possessively moved his hands across her breasts, encountering the rock-hard tips of her nipples. He felt her tremble wildly underneath his featherlight touch. He couldn’t wait to taste them and without waiting for any invitation, he slid one of the slender straps of her spaghetti strap dress down her shoulders. He kissed the soft skin of her shoulder and allowed his mouth and lips to travel lower. Pushing the fabric aside, he was happy to find her naked underneath. His mouth closed around the hard peak of one nipple and sucked.

  “Oh!” Miranda’s gasp was soft, but she didn’t ask him to stop. He continued laving it with quick flicks of his tongue, moistening the nub before pushing down the other strap until her bosom was completely bare and he could pay the other equal homage. Miranda fell backward, but Vaughn kept a palm firmly nestled in the small of her back as he held her in his arms, making love to her breasts.

  Vaughn, however, was greedy. He wanted more. “Please tell me you want this?” The urgency in his voice took him by surprise, but he’d been holding back so long because he understood she was nursing a broken heart. Even tonight, knowing she’d had more than her share of wine, he should be putting a stop to this but he couldn’t. She was setting his blood on fire.

  “Yes, yes, yes! I want you!”

  “Then you shall have me.”

  Sweeping Miranda into his arms, Vaughn headed for the winding staircase. He took them two at a time until he reached the upper floor that housed the master suite.

  * * *

  When they reached his bedroom, Miranda was too overcome with emotion to say much. She just wanted to feel. Feel Vaughn. Touch Vaughn. Kiss Vaughn. And Lord, did he know how to kiss. Her legs were weak as he lowered her to the floor.

  She stood there, helpless as he spun her around. With her back presented to him, he tugged at the zipper of her dress and it fell to the floor leaving her once again in her thong and strappy sandals. While she stepped out of the dress, she watched him tug at his belt and impatiently shrug off his clothes and toe off his shoes. He was just as eager as she was to be together. She was still trembling when he drew her toward the bed and covered her mouth with his. She tasted bourbon. She tasted Vaughn and she relished the flavor.

  Tonight, she wasn’t going to hold back. Her hands groped blindly for his shoulders so she could wrap her arms around his neck. What had started as strong physical attraction had grown into something unexpected. Something she hadn’t been looking for, but most definitely wanted.

  Wanted Vaughn.

  She heard a low moan which sounded like his, but she couldn’t be sure. Could be hers. His kisses were beyond consuming; they were hot and passionate, and as their tongues tangoed, Miranda couldn’t deny that desire was racing through her like wildfire and she could no longer deny that only Vaughn could put it out. He plundered her mouth like a soldier in the desert who’d gone without water but had finally found an oasis. Her. His hands weaved through her hair, bringing their bodies closer so she could feel the solid beat of his arousal and the promise of what was to come.

  Waves of lust washed over Miranda as the kiss between them went nuclear. They ate at each other; all the while his hands moved down over her back, sides and back up again to hungrily roam over her breasts. She needed him desperately, wanted him in the most basic way a man and woman could be together. Her body was his willing instrument and she gave herself up to the skillful caress of his hands as they cupped the soft mounds. And when his tongue tantalizingly covered her taut aching nipples yet again and swept across them with wet lashes, Miranda didn’t swallow her moan of lust. Pleasure of the purest kind escaped her lips when he rolled the engorged buds in between his teeth and tongue.

  “Vaughn...”

  Hadn’t she always known it could feel like this—in her hotel room and again on their wedding night when Vaughn had begun making love to her? She’d known her body would melt for him if given the chance. And it did. His fingertips traced a path down the sides of her body until it reac
hed the soft, tender flesh of her thighs. Willingly she parted them for him and when his hands found the place she was the most slick with need, a low murmur of satisfaction escaped her lips. She was so wanton with desire that she couldn’t hide behind fear or shyness anymore. Instead, she abandoned herself to Vaughn and his hands. They explored her slowly and deeply, gliding and stroking within her slick walls. Miranda was lost in a maelstrom of sensations, especially when he fingered her while simultaneously sucking on her breasts.

  Tiny quivers began to erupt inside her as his fingers went deeper, thrusting into her with deliberate intent. Demanding more and more of her. Miranda attempted to stifle her moans, but they were becoming louder and louder.

  “Let go, baby,” Vaughn whispered as his finger picked up the pace of the sensual torture until eventually any vestige of control was wiped away and she cried out her release.

  Miranda was still shuddering when he began raining hot kisses down her belly and his head lowered to the curls at the apex of her thighs. At the electric touch of his tongue on her tiny nub, she arched off the bed, crying out something unintelligible.

  His hot tongue circled her slick core, toying with the tight nerve endings, rendering her speechless as she sank into a sea of sensation. And Vaughn was right there to lap her up, over and over again until eventually her pulse quickened and her body erupted and spasm after spasm overtook her.

  Chapter 10

  Vaughn’s mouth returned to capture Miranda’s, kissing her softly and gently. He’d enjoyed how she finally let go of her inhibitions and consequently he’d given her two orgasms. And he planned to give her more. Brushing the damp tendrils of her hair aside so he could frame her face, he asked, “Are you okay?” Her whole body was still vibrating with the sensual pulse of her multiple orgasms.

  She nodded, unable to speak, and Vaughn couldn’t resist an inward smile. He’d made her dissolve and he loved every second of tasting her sweet honey. His hands slid down her body with slow mastery, caressing the flat panes of her stomach and the curve of her hips. She was his wife. His woman. And he would do anything to please her, including delaying his own gratification to ensure she was thoroughly satisfied.

  Vaughn drew her close to him. He’d been taking it slowly but now as the blood roared through his ears, the time had come to possess her. Make her his. He traced her lips with his tongue and she gave herself over and pressed her open lips to his. A shiver rippled through him and his entire body throbbed, eager to be inside her.

  He lifted away from her. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, his lips leaving hers to nibble at her earlobe, “And I want you so much...”

  She reached upward to trace the contours of his face, lightly touching his brows, sweeping across his eyes and then coming to his jaw and cleft chin. She was tempting him beyond measure. “I want you,” she breathed. “Please...take me.”

  Vaughn couldn’t wait to consummate their marriage. He spread her thighs wider so his fingers could work her nub to be sure was ready for him. She was still slick with moisture and he couldn’t wait any longer. Grasping her hips, he moved between them, tilted her to just the right angle and then drove inside her in one smooth thrust. Miranda arched off the bed, crying out at his possession. He shifted slightly and her body yielded as if it knew him, accepted him. Slowly, he withdrew only to thrust back again and she caught him. Her hands clutched at his back as she held on to him and kissed his shoulders.

  When he began moving inside her with powerful strokes, the first flickers of pleasure shot through him. Vaughn could feel himself going deeper and deeper into the very heart of her. Melding and merging into a pool of hot molten lava that would soon erupt.

  But he didn’t want it over yet.

  He slowed the pace even though her body, her hips were seeking, imploring him to go faster. “Vaughn!” She cried out his name and her eyes flickered open. He didn’t know if it was a moan or plea.

  “Yes, baby?”

  “I need...”

  He lifted his head to gaze down at her. Her eyes were smoldering with desire. “What do you need?”

  “More.”

  For one long moment, he stared down at her. Passion glazed her eyes. Passion for him alone. It made him feel exultant that Miranda was finally able to reveal her true feelings.

  And so he gave her more, quickened the pace, thrusting in and out, slowly and rhythmically. He was possessing her supple body and giving her everything he had. His hands moved down her breasts to slip between them and stroke her clitoris.

  “Yes, oh yes.” She moaned, gyrating her hips.

  He could hear the slapping of skin against skin as he feverishly drove himself home and buried himself deep inside her. And just as if a trigger was released, she whimpered, sobbing out his name as she went over the edge of the precipice. She wasn’t alone.

  Vaughn gave a triumphant shout as he followed her over the edge.

  * * *

  Ring... Ring...

  Several hours later, Miranda came back to reality too slowly. The feeling of utter bliss and satiation coursing through her veins was being disrupted by the annoying sound of the telephone. She felt the mattress dip as Vaughn rose and moved from the bed.

  “What?” She heard only his side of the conversation. “A break-in?”

  At those words, Miranda sprang upward, clutching the sheet to her bosom. Did he just say break-in?

  “When did this happen?” She watched Vaughn head toward his enormous walk-in closet. When he emerged he was wearing a track suit and sneakers. “I’ll be there in fifteen.” He abruptly ended the call.

  “Is everything alright?”

  Vaughn walked toward her and Miranda’s heart soared. This man. Her husband was her lover now. They’d just shared the most intimate moment a man and woman and could. So why was she suddenly embarrassed?

  When he reached her, he sat beside her on the bed. “There’s been a break-in at Prescott George. They were unable to reach our president, Christopher Marland, so now I have to go.”

  Her heart lurched. “Is it safe for you to go in his stead?”

  “Are you worried about me?” he inquired, stroking her cheek.

  She frowned in consternation. “Yes, of course. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “The police are still there because they need me to sign some paperwork, but I’ll be back soon.”

  He didn’t say another word on how he felt about what had just transpired between them. Instead he rushed out of the room, leaving Miranda to wonder if he was regretting spending the night with her. Although the break-in wasn’t his fault, he could have given her a kiss goodbye.

  Something.

  Some acknowledgement of the incredible experience they’d just shared. So she didn’t feel so insecure about what she’d allowed to happen between them. Had she not been good enough? Or perhaps she was too much in the bedroom? Did he think she was a nympho? She had been wanton with Vaughn, clutching at his shoulders. He probably had scratch marks on his back from her exuberance during their lovemaking. It had been a long time since she’d been with a man and Vaughn knew how to use his hands and mouth so much so that Miranda had lost control.

  Had she made a mistake by allowing their relationship to get physical?

  * * *

  Vaughn didn’t know why he’d rushed out of the bedroom as if someone was chasing him, but he had. Yes, he needed to get to Prescott George’s offices, but he’d also needed some breathing room. Space to figure out his feelings and how suddenly everything between him and his wife had changed.

  But he knew inexplicably that it had.

  Once he made it downstairs, he grabbed his keys and was out of the door and walking to the garage. Flicking on the lights, he glanced at his Ferrari. He needed speed. A good dose of adrenaline to right himself. Turning the ignition, Vaughn kicked the car into gear.

&
nbsp; The intensity of their lovemaking had been so strong. It was as if they’d been one heart, one body. Vaughn had been intimate with other women, beautiful, confident women who knew their way around the bedroom, but none of them were Miranda. They didn’t have her sweet disposition. They didn’t make him laugh and feel content whenever he was with them.

  As he sped down the highway, Vaughn couldn’t recall ever feeling this happy before and it was all because of Miranda. She was solely opening his eyes and he was seeing there was more to life than work, surfing and the occasional casual fling. But despite how incredible the sex was between them, Miranda constantly reminded him that their relationship was short-term. To want more, to even think about it was asking for heartache, but it didn’t stop Vaughn’s mind from wandering in that direction.

  What would it be like if they were married for real?

  What if there was no deadline to the end of their marriage?

  When he arrived at Prescott George’s building, there were two police cruisers with flashing lights waiting outside. Turning off the engine, Vaughn stalked purposely toward them. The two male officers looked sternly at him as he approached. The taller and more slender of the two spoke first. “Vaughn Ellicott?”

  He nodded. “Yes. That’s me. What do you have, Officer?”

  “I’m Officer Coyle. This is my partner, Reinhardt.” He motioned to the stubbier and portly gentleman at his side. “Come see for yourself. You can tell us if anything has been stolen.”

  Vaughn walked through the front door to find out how bad the damage was. He could see that the lock had been tampered with. He’d already called a locksmith on the drive and they would be here soon to replace it. The security firm he hired was also en route to review the security footage. There were cameras at the front entrance and throughout the offices; perhaps it would tell them who’d broken in.