His San Diego Sweetheart

by Yahrah St. John

  She fell deep into the kiss. Enjoyed the erotic slide of his tongue in and out of her mouth. His kiss was hot and hungry as his tongue slid more firmly inside her to explore every inch of her mouth with skilled mastery. When he pulled away to nip her ear with his teeth or glide his deliciously wet tongue against her throat or suck her neck with ravaging pulls, wondrous feelings erupted inside. Her breasts began to ache for his touch especially when he pressed her lower back toward him. She could feel the hard ridge of his erection pushing against her pelvis and it caused molten heat to pool between her thighs.

  No words were uttered between them. Instead his fingers combed through her hair, from root to tip, and his hands splayed across her backside, hips and thighs. She gasped when he ground the steel of his manhood against her melting core and began rubbing against her. He was imprinting himself on every inch of her body. And Miranda was powerless to his onslaught. Instead she rode the wave, her breasts swelling in response and her nipples turning into pebbles underneath the sheer fabric of the chiffon dress. He had to know how horny he was making her, but he wasn’t pushing her backward on the bed. Instead, he rolled her nipples between his fingers until they turned to buds and then he pushed the fabric of her dress down so he could close his lips around one nipple through her strapless bra. He suckled her so strongly that a moan of pleasure escaped her lips as he lashed the turgid point with hot strokes of his tongue.

  Miranda writhed in his hold and whimpered when his mouth left her breast to return and plunder her mouth. His tongue invaded hers and she dueled with him for supremacy. It was like she was having an out-of-body experience and she was no longer herself. Who was this wanton creature taking what Vaughn was so boldly giving her? He was sliding her down his body with leisurely movements, forcing her to ride his erection through their clothing. Moans escaped her lips followed by sharp intakes of breath. The center of her was throbbing and only Vaughn could assuage it.

  This was no slow seduction because no doubt about it, Vaughn had been seducing her all night. First with the compliments, the fancy dinner, watching the moonlight on the terrace. It had all been to seduce her senses and he’d succeeded. She was a frenzy of need. She wanted him...to do anything and everything to her. But if she allowed that to happen, if she made love with this man, no matter how satisfying it would be—tomorrow she would still be in the exact same place without a husband. And Vaughn would walk away with a smug smile in the morning, leaving her alone just as every other man before him had done.

  Miranda began pushing her hands against his chest, letting him know that they had to end this. It took several seconds, but slowly Vaughn eased his hold and lowered her back to the ground.

  Dear heaven, what had she done?

  Embarrassed at just how far she’d allowed things to go between them, Miranda quickly lifted her dress, backed up, spun away from him and walked toward the window.

  “Miranda, are you alright?” Vaughn inquired from behind her. His voice was husky with desire.

  She nodded. This was her fault. She’d made a mistake when she’d allowed him to come back to her room. Once again, she was falling for the wrong man. In an alternate universe in which she wasn’t looking down the barrel of a gun to get inheritance, Vaughn could have been the right man, but he wasn’t. There was no incentive for a man as rich as Vaughn to marry her. She had to find someone else desperate and willing to marry her for a year, but who?

  Because as much as she might like to have finished what they started, Vaughn was never going to be that man.

  * * *

  Vaughn stared at Miranda’s rigid back as she faced the window. His body hummed with unfulfilled tension, his manhood ached and throbbed with a need to mate with this woman. He took a deep breath, struggling for control. What the hell was happening to him? He’d always considered himself a disciplined man who allowed himself the odd indulgence, but Miranda was so provocatively tempting, she was forcing him to basic near primitive instincts.

  It was clear that the evening was over. He just had to extricate himself with as much diplomacy and tact as possible while still allowing Miranda to save face. He knew she had to feel horrible enough without his anger as a factor. And he was angry because she was fighting their attraction. But yet he could see she was conflicted. Her mind was telling her to walk away, but her body—her body wanted him something fierce. The way she’d ridden his shaft had him in desperate need of a cold shower. Pronto.

  But she also seemed to warring with herself about what was right and wrong. He would do the right thing. “I should go.”

  Slowly, she pivoted on her heel to face him. The strained look on her face told him she was thankful. “I think that might best. I should never have allowed you to come up. Should never have gotten involved.”

  “How can you say that, Miranda? When you and I so clearly complement each other.”

  She took a step backward and he could sense her pulling further away from him. “I’m sorry for giving you mixed signals and for giving you the wrong idea that I—I wanted...” She didn’t say another word; instead she rushed off to the bathroom and slammed the door, effectively shutting him out.

  He walked to the door and placed his ear against it, but all he could hear was sniffles. “Miranda. Miranda?” When she continued to remain silent, Vaughn released a long sigh. “Okay, I’ll go, but I just want you to know that the time we’ve spent together the last couple of evenings has been nothing short of spectacular and I hope to see you again.”

  He placed his hand on the door. And after willing it to open for several more seconds, he finally gave up, opened the hotel room door and left.

  Chapter 4

  Vaughn glanced at the clock on the nightstand and watched the minutes tick by past 2:00 a.m. He was anxious, impatient, angry and downright mystified by Miranda’s reaction. He thought about how her huge brown eyes had looked tonight when she’d walked toward him, her arms encircling his neck as she’d laid one helluva kiss on him. It didn’t make any sense. One minute she was hot with desire for him and the next minute she was cold as ice, sending him away from her hotel room for the second night in a row. How was it possible that this beautiful stranger he’d only just met had him tied up in knots? Even more so, because now he knew what she tasted like. He remembered the way she’d kissed him back when he’d explored every nook and crevice of her deliciously sinful mouth. A mouth that was made for loving. His loving.

  But she’d rejected him. Denying them both the satisfaction they both craved.

  Why? The little sounds and moans she’d made as she’d ridden his shaft had told Vaughn exactly how much she wanted him. He should probably walk away and move on to another woman. An easier choice, who was confident enough in herself to take what she wanted, regardless of the consequences. But Miranda wasn’t that woman. Something was holding her back and he had to know why she was running scared; only then could he make peace with the situation. And, if necessary, allow himself to move on.

  As if that were possible.

  He’d never wanted another woman as achingly as he wanted Miranda and it wasn’t just because she’d turned him down either. He loved her independent streak and how she spoke of starting her own business, but there was also an innocence and vulnerability he saw in her that appealed to every male instinct in him to protect. Protect her.

  Vaughn waited until a reasonable hour of the morning and after showering, he grabbed a mug of coffee from his favorite coffee house and headed for Miranda’s hotel. He was determined to get answers.

  When he arrived, he tossed his keys at the valet and went straight for the elevators. He was halfway there when a mane of luscious black hair caught his attention. Vaughn stopped dead in his tracks. Miranda was at the front desk with a suitcase! He marched toward her.

  “Hello, Miranda.”

  Startled, she spun around on her heel. “V-Vaughn? W-what are you doing here?”


  * * *

  Miranda was stunned to see Vaughn standing behind her. When she’d looked up, her stomach dissolved into a familiar flutter at the sight of him. He was casually dressed in jeans and a T-shirt showing off his honed muscular body. She felt her throat go parched as she stared at the sensual curve of his mouth. A mouth that had darn near given her an orgasm last night. The way his lips had sucked her neck as his fingers had drifted over her bare legs had made her feel incredibly wanton.

  “Ms. Jensen, here’s your bill.” The hotel clerk interrupted her lascivious thoughts and slid the bill across the counter.

  Miranda turned around. “Thank you.” She glanced down at the charges, but hardly saw them because she could feel Vaughn’s rising anger from behind her and her skin prickled with guilt. He knew she’d been leaving without telling him goodbye. “The bill appears in order.”

  “Very well, then. We’ll charge it to the card on file?”

  Miranda nodded. She glanced behind her to see if Vaughn was still there, and he was. His hands were folded across his impressive chest and she could see he was not moving a muscle without an explanation. Once she’d concluded her transaction, Miranda reached for her suitcase, but Vaughn beat her to the punch and wheeled it away to a sofa in a secluded area of the lobby, where they could no doubt talk in private.

  He motioned for her to sit and she did, while Vaughn opted for the chair beside her. She didn’t like it because she was caged in by Vaughn’s legs and the cocktail table. “So, Miranda, do you want to tell me why you were hightailing it out of town?”

  “I’ve completed my business here,” she said. “It’s time for me to move on.”

  His brow furrowed. “Is that a fact?”

  “It is.” She straightened her shoulders. But even as she said the words, they both knew it was a lie.

  She was leaving because Vaughn had gotten too close. When he was around, Miranda couldn’t think clearly. She only felt. Felt things she shouldn’t. Couldn’t afford to feel. She’d been preoccupied with this man for the last forty-eight hours. She’d been listless and distracted thinking about how he’d taken her in his arms and the excitement he made her feel. Last night, she’d been unable to sleep, remembering the passionate kissing and touching they’d shared in her room. She hadn’t been able to push the thoughts away and she was angry with herself for losing focus on her goal of finding a husband.

  “That’s bull and you know it, Miranda,” Vaughn responded. “You’re leaving because you’re running scared. And I haven’t the faintest idea why.”

  “That’s because you have no idea what I’m dealing with.” Miranda rose to her feet and so did Vaughn. “I have to go. I have a plane to catch.” She tried unsuccessfully to push past him, but all she was greeted with was a rock-hard wall of chest. “Move aside, Vaughn.”

  “Not until you tell me what’s going on,” he said. “And I think now is as good a time as any.” He grabbed her suitcase and took her other hand with his free hand and led her toward the exit.

  “What do you think you’re doing,” she asked, nearly trotting to keep up with his long strides. “You can’t just manhandle me.”

  “I can. And I will,” he said tightly. He handed the valet his ticket and she watched him scurry to get Vaughn’s vehicle.

  Vaughn’s grip on her loosened, but instead of letting her go, he laced his fingers through hers. Miranda stared down at their joined hands. It was an innocent action, but held so much meaning. “I’m not letting you go,” he whispered, looking down at her. “Otherwise, I fear you’ll run in the opposite direction. So you’ll stay with me until you tell me the real reason you’re running and keeping me at arm’s length.”

  They stood in relative silence, each in their own thoughts until the valet returned with Vaughn’s car several minutes later. Once Vaughn had ushered her inside the passenger side and put her luggage in his trunk, he got in the driver’s seat. “Buckle up, Miranda. Something tells me we’re in for a ride.”

  * * *

  Vaughn was positively livid. He’d seen red when he’d found Miranda at the front desk about to sneak out on him. His groin had also hardened when he saw her in those skinny jeans and a peasant top. The denim hugged every curve of her tight, round bottom and he was eager to run his hands along her backside, but resisted the urge. The look she’d given him when he’d caught her red-handed was nothing short of deer in the headlights and he didn’t want that. He wanted her relaxed and pliable.

  Like she’d been last night when she’d nearly come apart in his arms.

  “Where are you taking me?” she inquired.

  “To my office. We’ll have relative quiet there since it’s the weekend.”

  “Why couldn’t you have just let me go? There’s so much more going on here than you know.”

  “And I’m eager to hear all about it.”

  “What if I don’t want to tell you?” She pressed her lips together in anger.

  He took his eyes off traffic long enough to reply. “You will.” Then he returned his focus to the road.

  “You’re awfully arrogant. Why would I confide in you?”

  “I think you’re desperate to tell someone and get whatever it is off your chest.”

  * * *

  She was silent. Had he accurately assessed her? Vaughn would soon find out. Her hotel wasn’t far from Elite’s headquarters and he was pulling into his reserved parking space fifteen minutes later.

  Miranda jumped out of the car without waiting for him to open her door and glanced around at her surroundings.

  “What?”

  She shrugged. “I guess I just assumed your offices would be at the beach.”

  He grinned as he walked toward the double doors. “I do run a business.” He unlocked the door and held it open for her. “But we’re not far.”

  She glanced up at him, her mouth curving into an unconscious smile. “I wouldn’t think so.” Then she strutted inside.

  Vaughn couldn’t resist watching her fanny as he followed her into the converted loft space and turned the lights on. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Would love some.”

  While he set about making coffee in the state-of-the-art kitchen which housed a large countertop that often held their catered health-conscious lunches, Vaughn watched Miranda walk around his two-story office. She seemed to marvel at the rafters and open concept. When he was finished with the coffee, he brought over two mugs to Miranda, who’d made herself comfortable in an oversize chair overlooking the La Jolla Shores beach.

  He sat beside her in the other and turned to her. “The floor is yours.”

  She took a sip of her coffee and said, “You’re the one who kidnapped me. I never said I was going to tell you my life story.”

  He chuckled and reclined in his chair. “I think kidnap is a strong word, but I’m a friend with an ear to listen if you care to share.”

  Her brow shot in surprise. “Friend?” She mulled the word over on her lips as if it was foreign to her and then sipped her coffee in silence. Vaughn wondered if she was intent on keeping mum about whatever it was that was bothering her when she finally spoke. “I’m sorry for being a tease last night. It’s just that I shouldn’t have let you come up. No.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t even have gone out with you to begin with. I have a lot on my plate right now.”

  “Such as?”

  She sighed heavily and looked at him closely as if weighing her options. Could she trust him? Could she not? She must have chosen the latter because she put down her coffee mug and blurted out, “If I don’t marry in the next month, I’m going to lose my inheritance.”

  “Excuse me?” Vaughn said. Now it was his turn to plop down his mug on the table, causing brown liquid to spill over.

  “I should get a towel.”

  She rose to move, but he grabbed her arm. “Leave it
! I want to know what you mean by that statement.”

  Her eyes glittered at him and there was no trace of humor in those brown depths. “You heard me correctly, Vaughn. Since my grandfather’s death, I’m set to inherit millions as you’ve read online, but what no one knows is there’s a condition to that inheritance.”

  “Which is?”

  “That I must marry before my thirtieth birthday or forfeit my entire fortune to one of my grandfather’s charities.”

  “Why on earth would he make marriage a condition of his will?”

  “Because he was a spiteful old man, stuck in the Stone Age. He believed that a woman needs a man. And I obviously have made poor choices with men because of my three last disastrous relationships, one of which almost had me married to a gold digger. My grandfather felt like I needed looking after and this is his way of ensuring that happens.”

  “But that’s positively medieval!”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Miranda’s voice rose several octaves and she stood up and began pacing the tile floor. “But there’s no way around it. Trust me, I’ve been looking for a way out over the last two months since his death and neither I or my lawyers can find one.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I took a leave of absence from my job in Chicago and decided to go hunting for a husband.”

  “And you came here to San Diego? I would think there would be a lot more choices in Chicago. You’re a beautiful woman, Miranda. I find it hard to believe that men aren’t lining up at your door.”

  Miranda rolled her eyes upward. “Well, they weren’t. I wasn’t having much luck in Chicago, so I came to San Diego. My best friend, Sasha, lives here and I thought it might help to have a friendly face around.”