A San Diego Romance

by Kianna Alexander

  “Obviously. You two were joined at the hip back in the day. Inseparable.” Brianne seemed to be looking past her, out into the night. “We all thought you two would end up together; me, Emily, even Mom.”

  “So did I.” She sighed. “Anyway, fate has given us a second chance, but so far it seems like some big cosmic joke. I mean, I want this man in every way a woman can want a man. But he just doesn’t seem to get it.”

  “Do you think maybe you’re being too subtle?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so.” She ran a hand through her hair. “There’s only so much I can do out in public without coming off in the wrong way, know what I mean?”

  “Yeah, I get it.” Brianne rested her chin on her fingers. “Give me an example of something you’ve tried, maybe I can help.”

  Now Eliza raised her brow. “Isn’t this more Emily’s wheelhouse? I mean, she is the oldest, and she’s a marriage counselor.”

  “It probably is, but she’s out of town at that therapists’ convention for the next week, remember?” Brianne smiled. “So just let the middle sister try to help you out, okay?”

  She chuckled. “I’m willing to give it a shot. Okay, so the other night. We rode around town, looking at the buildings he’d designed. I got the impression that he was trying to impress me, and it’s working.”

  “It does sound like he was trying to impress you.”

  “So, we’re sitting at the site where the museum he’s designing now is going to be built. It’s deserted, it’s dark. We’re talking, and the mood is right, so I lean in for a kiss—”

  “Oh, girl. He didn’t kiss you?”

  Eliza rolled her eyes. “Brianne, chill. We did kiss, but when I tried to slip some tongue in there, he froze up. Then he just jerked away and took me home with some line about how he’d kept me out too late.”

  “Damn.” Brianne’s eyes widened. “Y’all both grown, and he hit you with the curfew defense?”

  “Yeah.” Eliza cringed at the memory. “That was incredibly awkward, and frustrating.”

  “Now I see what you meant when you said he sees you as a teenager.”

  “Good. Now tell me how to break him out of that mind-set.” She leaned forward in her seat. “Listen, I can appreciate him being a gentleman, because that’s rare in this day and age. But I’m not a kid anymore. I’m a grown woman, with grown-woman needs, and he’s got what I need.”

  Brianne smiled. “Well, all right, then.”

  “You know we never went all the way back then, right?”

  Brianne nodded. “Girl, I know. None of us could get any while we were under our parents’ roof. Dad did everything but make us wear chastity belts.”

  “Well, the time has come for me to take it there with Chris. So help me out here. What am I doing wrong?”

  She was silent for a few moments, tapping her index finger on her chin. “Okay. It sounds like you’ve been pretty subtle up until now, which I get. I understand you not wanting to look overzealous in public and all that. But maybe it’s time to change your approach.”

  “How so?” At this point, Eliza was open to suggestions, because she felt like things weren’t really progressing between her and Chris.

  “Has Chris changed much since the old days? In terms of his attitude and personality?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’d say he’s more mature, but he’s essentially the same guy.”

  “In that case, think about the kind of guy he is. He’s super serious, focused, driven. You could even call him intense.”

  Eliza chuckled, shaking her head as she thought of his expressions and gesticulations when he spoke about his work or his kids. “Intense is a good word.”

  “Then you need to stop being subtle. This man doesn’t have a subtle bone in his body, so he’s not gonna respond to hints. Be obvious, be overt. Give him the full-on seduction treatment.”

  Eliza swallowed. “I mean, I don’t know if I can pull that off. He knows I’m back in the cottage on our parents’ property, and he won’t set foot in there.”

  “So go to his place.”

  The lightbulb snapped on inside her head. “Marland Manor. His fortress in the hills.”

  “That’s right. Everybody around here knows about that place. It’s one of the most state-of-the-art structures on the West Coast. Just text him, tell him you want to tour his most personal creation and get the address.”

  She clapped her hands together. “He’s not gonna turn me down. He loves showing off his work.” It was the perfect plan. All she needed was an in, and she could handle the rest.

  Brianne tilted her head to the side. “Go get your man, girl.”

  Eliza stood up, her mind formulating a plan. “Bet.”

  Chapter 11

  Chris sat at his drafting table Saturday night, poring over his latest revisions to the plans for the Museum of Sustainable Art. He’d nailed down most of the design and felt satisfied with what he’d come up with so far. But for some reason, he just couldn’t settle on the right look for the sculpture gallery in the west wing. The museum’s director had described her vision for the gallery in clear terms. She wanted an indoor section that displayed the smaller, more delicate sculptures, and an outdoor section for the larger, more hardy pieces. The hard part would be delivering the dichotomy she’d requested: the two sections were to seem distinct, yet still flow together in a seamless way.

  With his years of experience in architecture, Chris knew of several techniques that could work to deliver on the director’s request. Despite that, choosing which way to carry out her vision for the space, while staying true to the museum’s guiding principle of using only sustainable material, proved to be a bigger challenge than he’d anticipated. What materials can I use that will give the right look without being wasteful? He tapped the eraser of his graphite pencil on the paper repeatedly, lost in thought.

  He got up from his stool, moving to the desk on the adjacent wall. Opening his laptop, he swiped the screen to bring up his internet browser. He knew of a few alternatives to the traditional building materials he was accustomed to working with, but he couldn’t think of any that fit the unique demands of this project. In the interest of doing his best work, he wanted to see what he could find. The responsibility for the use of proper materials fell to the contractor, not the architect. Still, he made it a point to stay as up-to-date as he could on matters like this, because the knowledge often informed his design process. He went to his search bar and typed in “green building materials,” hoping he’d find something useful in the results.

  Before the links finished populating, he heard the doorbell ring. Confusion knit his brow for a moment as he wondered who would be visiting him at home, especially after eight on a Saturday. Seconds later, he snapped his fingers as he recalled his text conversation with Eliza. She’d wanted to tour the house, having expressed interest in seeing his most important design. Looking down at his New Edition Home Again tour T-shirt and gray sweatpants, he wished he’d remembered her visit. No time to change now.

  The doorbell rang again, and he pushed the thought aside as he padded barefoot out of the office, down the stairs and hallway, and into the sitting room to open his front door.

  When his eyes landed on Eliza, standing in the soft yellow glow of his porch light, he felt his jaw go slack.

  She wore a velour tracksuit in a deep shade of blue. The jacket, bedazzled around the bottom, was cut in such a way that the sparkling stones grazed the flat plane of her belly, just above her navel. The hood of the jacket was pulled up, obscuring her hair. But nothing could obscure the scorching-hot body encased in the shimmery, fitted fabric. The pants sat low on her hips, hugging her curves like a race car in the Monaco Grand Prix. He let his eyes rake over her frame, then back up to her face, where he found her gaze waiting.

  “Hey, Chris.” Her glossy lips turned up into a smil
e. “Did you forget about me coming over?”

  He swallowed, nodded. “Sorry. Got caught up in a floor plan.” He stood there in the open door, staring at her. A few days ago, when he looked at her, he could still see the grinning, ponytail-wearing, chemistry book–toting girl who’d first stolen his heart. But when he looked at her now, he didn’t see a girl. He saw a woman, and a hell of a woman at that.

  “Can I come in?” She blinked several times, the dark fringe of her lashes fluttering.

  He stepped back so she could enter, then closed the door behind her. “Make yourself at home.” He watched her strut past him, and when he caught a glimpse of her ass, swaying with each step, his groin tightened. Damn.

  “Before we start the tour, can I see what you’re working on? I mean, if you don’t mind.” Her voice broke into his thoughts.

  “Sure. Follow me.” He walked past her, leading her through the house to the office. Once they arrived in his office, he gestured to the floor plan clipped to his drafting table. “This is it. It’s a sculpture gallery for the museum.”

  She strode ahead of him again, leaning over the table to peer at his drawing. Her posture treated him to another view of her ample round hips. He cleared his throat, but that did nothing for the dryness there. So he grabbed the bottle of water he’d left sitting on his desk and took a long draw.

  “Thirsty, Chris?” She eyed him, her expression a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

  He blew out a breath. “I...well...”

  Before he could form a coherent answer to her question, she straightened. Her graceful, manicured fingertips captured the zipper pull on the front of the jacket. Her eyes locked with his, she tugged the zipper down, revealing a black lace bra beneath.

  He gasped. “Shit.”

  She winked. Then she edged closer to him, entering his personal space.

  “What are you doing, Eliza?”

  By now, her breasts were pressed against his chest. “What we should have done a long time ago, Chris. I want you.”

  He flexed his fingers. Keeping chaste with her back then hadn’t been easy, and he remembered the frustration well. But was this really what she wanted? “What about the tour?”

  “Don’t worry. You can show me everything after breakfast.”

  The realization of what she’d offered him hit him all at once, and his body reacted, hardness stretching the crotch of his pants. His eyes widened, and he licked his lips. “Eliza, I...”

  She pressed her index finger to his lips. “I’m grown now, Chris. And I know what I want.” Backing away, she carefully unclipped his drawing from the drafting table. Rolling it, she placed it on his desk before returning to the drafting table. Then she draped herself over it, her back resting against the slanted surface. “Less talking. More kissing.”

  He groaned low in his throat. What she’d said couldn’t be any truer: she was grown, a woman in every sense of the word. A man had only so much willpower, and what he’d possessed had long since been burned away by this fiery seduction. He wasted no time joining her. As his body made contact with hers, their lips collided.

  Her lips were soft, yielding. As their tongues mated, he could hear the sound and feel the vibration of her soft moans. The smell of her perfume, feminine and floral, filled his nostrils. Still kissing her, he undid her zipper, spreading the open halves of her jacket and splaying his palms over her belly. Her silken skin, warm beneath his touch, fueled his desire to take her fully. He broke the kiss, looked at her and groaned again. She’d overtaken his senses, and in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to bury himself between her shapely thighs and take her until she screamed his name.

  “Are you sure, Eliza?”

  She opened her eyes, and their gazes locked. Laying her hand against his cheek, she nodded. “I’ve never been this sure about anything.”

  A heartbeat later, he clasped his arms around her waist, hoisted her into his arms and carried her out of the office to his bedroom.

  * * *

  Eliza sighed as Chris laid her gently across his king-size bed. The thick gray bedding gave beneath her, making her feel as if she were lying on a cloud. She’d left her jacket behind in the office, and wasted no time wriggling out of her pants while still prone. She wanted him to see the black thong she’d worn, the match to her lacy bra.

  When she kicked the pants aside, she heard him gasp. Her heart thudded in her chest like a Questlove drum solo. She wanted to say something cheeky, but desire had taken her voice.

  She sat up, watching with appreciative eyes as he disrobed, quickly stripping off the gray sweatpants and fitted T-shirt he wore. The floor lamp near the dresser illuminated the muscled expanse of his bare torso and arms, as well as his powerful thighs.

  She felt her tongue dart out across her bottom lip. Chris had the best body she’d ever seen on a man, bar none. She knew in that moment that no one else would ever be able to compete with him in her mind.

  In nothing but his blue boxer briefs, he joined her on the bed. Lying on his back, he tugged her atop him until she came to rest on her knees, straddling his hips. The hard evidence of his need for her jutted up between them, stroking against her inner thigh.

  She inhaled sharply, then leaned down for his kiss.

  He buried his fingertips in her hair, guiding the angle of her face to his liking, and she melted like butter dropped in a hot skillet as he massaged her scalp. The way he kissed her in that moment let her know that he’d finally given up seeing her as a teenager. No, he kissed her the way a grown man kissed a grown woman, and she loved every second of it.

  Passion took hold, and before she could stop herself, she began to move her hips, working her lower body against his. She’d never done anything so wanton before, but she couldn’t stop. She liked the sensation of his hardness rubbing against her too much to stop. A warm, wonderful pulsation between her legs made her want to keep going. And if his grunts were any indication, he liked it as well.

  He slipped his hands out of her hair, moving them to either side of her waist, and stayed her. “If you keep doing that, the show will be over before it starts.”

  She bit her lip, smiling. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. Just give me a minute to grab the condom.”

  She shifted aside, letting him get up. He took a foil packet from the drawer of his nightstand, and as she watched, he snatched off his boxer briefs. Her eyes rounded as she saw his girth, and the throbbing between her thighs increased to a fever pitch as she watched him roll the protection on. Finished with that, he flicked off the lamp.

  He came back to the bed and wasted no time kissing and caressing her out of her bra and panties. She sighed and gasped through the undressing, and when he laid her down again and climbed on top of her, she closed her eyes against the blooming passion that threated to overwhelm her.

  He kissed her lips, then her cheeks, then her eyelids, then moved down to kiss the column of her throat. “Open up for me, baby.”

  She parted her trembling thighs, feeling him prodding there. Soon he found her opening and slipped into her warmth. She felt her body stretching, molding to him, and by the time he began stroking her, she disintegrated into ecstasy. His body moving within her own felt as natural as her heartbeat and as blissful as the sunrise over the sea. She wrapped her arms around him and clung to him, moving in time with him. Every cell, every nerve in her body, sang for him, the glow of pleasure spreading through her like a five-alarm fire consuming dry brush.

  He raised his hips, then pushed them down again, his strokes long and even. She felt the fire building in her core and heard her own moans of pleasure rising in the silence around them. She lifted her lower body off the soft bedding, letting her hips rise to meet his thrusts and loving the increased pleasure of this new angle.

  His groans grew louder and his movements more intense, and she joined him, caught up in
the rising passion. He moved his hands to cup her ass, his grasp firm, but gentle. She arched, and at his next stroke, she shattered, screaming his name.

  He followed her to paradise moments later, still gripping her, his body shuddering with the force of his release.

  She felt him leave her body as he rolled next to her. Then he gathered her into his arms, kissing the top of her hair as she drifted to sleep.

  * * *

  In the deep of night, Eliza startled awake from a strange dream. Blinking a few times, she felt confusion sweep over her as she glanced around the unfamiliar surroundings. That, combined with the weight of a muscular arm draped over her waist and the hard body pressed against her back, made her feel somewhat disoriented.

  The feeling lasted only a few seconds as sleep wore off and reality set in. The room, quiet save for Chris’s soft snores, loomed large around her. Moonlight streamed in through the sheer curtains, keeping the shadows at bay. Beyond the bedroom door lay the still-unexplored depths of his mountainside retreat. She supposed they’d get around to the tour...sometime. Right now, she was content to lie in his arms.

  As memories of their lovemaking flooded her mind, she smiled. Her body still echoed with remnants of the passion they’d shared. Being with him in real life had exceeded every fantasy her mind had ever conjured, and she felt pleased that he’d finally come to see her as she was now, as opposed to who she used to be. Years ago, she’d loved him with all her heart, despite her parents’ insistence that she was too young to know her own mind. Making love with him had only brought those feelings back, and it surprised her that the feelings were just as intense now as they’d been back then.

  Am I really falling for him? Deep down, she could feel the affection he had for her. He’d always treated her with the utmost care, and tonight had been no exception. She felt certain that he loved her, but who knew if he was ready to admit it? And if he wasn’t ready, where did that leave her? It was all too much to consider, especially since she was only half-awake.