His San Diego Sweetheart

by Yahrah St. John

  “But I’d like to keep the results of the investigation between you and me. We won’t reveal this to other members until we can ferret out who the culprit is. I think in the interim, we continue to suggest that it was just a teenage prank. Agree?”

  Vaughn nodded. He shook Christopher’s hand. “We’ll speak soon.”

  Once he was sure Prescott George was squared away, Vaughn returned home. He was eager to see Miranda and have her back in his arms. Now that he had time to think about it, he realized their first night together had been cut short by this break-in foolishness and his own fear. He wasn’t sure if he could recapture the magic from last night, but he could certainly try.

  * * *

  “Miranda?” He called out to her, but the house was empty. Vaughn couldn’t help but be disappointed. He shouldn’t have expected her to be waiting home for him, but he’d hoped all the same. In the meantime, he would catch up on some work, but first there was a call he needed to return.

  The Commander had called while he was cleaning up PG’s offices and Vaughn hadn’t been able to answer him. He wasn’t happy with his parents. Their failure in not attending his wedding irked him. Vaughn understood that he’d given them short notice and that they weren’t exactly excited at the prospect of him marrying a stranger, but they could have come anyway. Supported his decision even if they hadn’t agreed, just as Miranda’s parents had done.

  “Vaughn,” the Commander answered on the second ring.

  “I’m returning your call,” Vaughn started. “Was there something you wanted?”

  “Do I have to have a reason to call my own son?” he responded sharply.

  Vaughn sighed. He hated when his father got on his soapbox and spoke down to him, making him feel like he was eight years old again. “No, of course not, but considering we haven’t spoken in a couple of weeks, I don’t know what we have to say.”

  “Remember who you’re talking to, Vaughn Ellicott. I’m still your father.”

  “You could have fooled me,” Vaughn responded. “Why weren’t you at my wedding, where a father should be?”

  The Commander scoffed. “You know how your mother and I felt about your hasty nuptials. We were not going to participate or give our blessing to that sham.”

  Vaughn swallowed as anger rose inside him. For a split second, his vision went black and he had to remember to be respectful. “My marriage is not a sham, Commander. And you would know that if you’d taken the time to get to know Miranda instead of having preconceived notions about our relationship.”

  “Relationship?” His father laughed. “You hardly know the woman. It couldn’t be that serious if you couldn’t be bothered to introduce her to your own family.”

  “There wasn’t time.” The instant the words were out of his mouth, Vaughn regretted them.

  “What do you mean there wasn’t time?” His father latched on to his comment. “Vaughn, did you get that girl in the family way?”

  Vaughn rolled his eyes upward. “As I’ve told you before, Miranda is not pregnant. I just meant that we were caught up in the moment and wanted to get married as soon as possible.”

  “I don’t know,” his father said. “Something doesn’t sound quite right to me, but perhaps you’re right. I could hold passing judgment until I meet your wife. Will she be at the Prescott George retreat?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Then your mother and I will look forward to meeting her then,” the Commander said. “In the meantime, why don’t you fill me in on the break-in at Prescott George?”

  How had he found out about it? He and Christopher intended to keep it hush-hush.

  Vaughn was happy when the call with his father ended. He didn’t like being on the receiving end of one of the Commander’s interrogations. He’d much rather focus on when his lovely wife was due home, but she didn’t arrive until later that evening, much to his chagrin.

  It was nearly dinnertime when Miranda poked her head in his office. “Hey.”

  Vaughn glanced up from his laptop and enjoyed the view in front of him. His beautiful wife. Her hair was down with just a slight bit pinned up. She had on a bit of mascara and lip gloss, but wore no other makeup. She was wearing an amber color sundress which suited her creamy taupe complexion. The fitted bodice and swaying skirt hit just above her knee and showed off her toned legs. For a moment he imagined those same legs when they’d been wrapped around his waist last night as he’d buried himself deep inside her. “Hello.”

  “Are you busy?” she asked from the doorway. He noticed she was shifting from foot to foot. How could she still be nervous with him after the intimacies they’d shared?

  “For you, no,” he said, closing his laptop. “Why don’t we get a drink?” He rose to his feet and strolled toward her. He placed his hand at the small of her back and felt her jump at his touch. And Vaughn didn’t like it. He’d hoped they found solid footing over the last couple of weeks, but now it appeared as though they were regressing if she still tensed at his touch.

  He lowered his hand and they walked side by side downstairs until they were in the large open living room. Vaughn set about making their drinks. Hopefully, it would ease the awkward tension between them. He handed Miranda the martini he knew she liked while he opted for something stronger, a bourbon. His wife sat on one of the plush white circular leather sofas and he joined her there. He was quiet, trying to assess her mood, but he couldn’t read her.

  She was closed off.

  Her body language was too; she was sitting as far away as humanly possible on the other side of the couch.

  “About last night...” Miranda began.

  His ears perked up. He loved nothing more than to talk about it. No, he’d actually like to repeat it. “What about it?”

  She took a sip of her martini and then set it on the cocktail table. “I don’t blame you for what happened. I understand that we had an agreement, for a marriage of convenience and—”

  She stopped, clearly at a loss as to how to go on, and Vaughn stared at her incredulously. What was she trying to say? Was she trying to get out of their marriage?

  He didn’t realize he’d verbalized his thoughts aloud until Miranda stammered. “No, no, I—don’t want to end our marriage. I just don’t want you to feel obligated to sleep with me. I understand it was a one-time thing and I know I had a bit too much to drink last night and came on to you.”

  Vaughn laughed aloud. Was she serious?

  “Wh-what’s so funny?” She looked truly crushed that he was laughing at her.

  “Baby.” Vaughn put down his drink and scooted across the couch, removing the distance between them. He grasped both her hands, sitting unceremoniously in her lap. “There was nothing distasteful about our night together. In fact, I’d like nothing better than to pick up where we left off.”

  “You would?” Miranda’s eyes grew large with bewilderment.

  “Yes, of course.” He grinned at her. “I thoroughly enjoyed making love to you, with you.”

  “Then—then why did you rush off yesterday and again this morning?” she stammered. “You—you made me feel...”

  She turned her head away, but he grasped her chin, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes were misty with tears and Vaughn hated that he’d made her feel this way. He’d been so caught up with Prescott George and his own feelings that he’d hurt Miranda and he’d never want to do that. “Miranda, baby, I’m sorry for making you doubt the way I feel about you, making you doubt just how much I want you. Still want you.”

  “You do?”

  He could strangle the bastards who made her doubt herself and just how beautiful and sexy she was. “Yes. You have no idea how I’ve longed to be with you. How hard it’s been for me keeping my distance these last weeks because you wanted a marriage of convenience, but I’m nothing else if not a man of my word. I would have kept it as long as you requi
red. But last night, though, you showed me, told me you wanted me just as bad. Is that still the case or do you just want a marriage on paper only? Because that’s not what I want.”

  * * *

  Miranda’s heart was overjoyed as she looked into the dark stormy eyes of her husband and saw desire lurking in those depths. He did want her! She’d gotten it all wrong. She’d allowed her anxiety and her past to cloud her judgment where Vaughn was concerned. He was a man of honor, a man of integrity. She hadn’t made the wrong choice when she’d decided to walk down the aisle to him. She could admit her true feeling. “Yes, I want you, Vaughn. I need you bad.”

  His lips descended on hers, her breasts crushed against the hard planes of his chest. Her eyes fluttered closed as he deepened the kiss, taking her mouth fully in a greedy, hungry kiss. He left no part of her mouth untouched as he reacquainted himself with every bit of it. His lips teased at the seam of her lips and she parted them willingly. Meanwhile his hands slid lower, brushing her thighs as he made his way to the edge of her dress.

  Miranda wiggled impatiently. She wanted him to touch her there, where she was molten and hot for him. “Please, Vaughn.”

  “Please what?” he said when his fingers took their time traveling down her legs to tease the backs of her knees.

  “You know what,” she stated. She was embarrassed to ask him for what she wanted.

  He laughed huskily and then his hands moved upward underneath her dress. They slipped past the confines of her panties and then she felt him slide a finger deep inside her. “Vaughn, oh God.” She writhed her hips against his searching fingers, hungry for more.

  “Yes, baby.” He moved from her lips and lowered his head to her breasts, which were already protruding through the soft material of her dress. He suckled one breast through the fabric and she arched upward at the contact of having his mouth on her and finger inside her, but he wasn’t content. With a quick snatch, her panties disintegrated and Vaughn added a second digit inside her to tease her core.

  Each delicious stroke gave Miranda unimaginable pleasure as sensation after sensation flooded through her and her dress began riding higher and higher up her waist. But Miranda didn’t want to be selfish. Last night Vaughn had been an unselfish lover with her and she would be the same. She reached for his belt buckle and made easy work of it even though he was driving her mad with his mouth and fingers. When she freed him from the restraints of his briefs, she began stroking the hard ridge of his erection. She heard his involuntary intake of breath at her actions.

  “Not yet, minx,” he moaned, shifting her away from him. By doing so, it gave his fingers greater access to thrust harder and faster inside her.

  Miranda tried to hold out, but he had her splintering apart within seconds and she gasped out his name. “Vaughn!” She contracted around his fingers and her head fell backward onto the cushions. All she could do was watch Vaughn drop his trousers to his ankles, not fully removing them, and join her on the couch. His shaft jutted out to greet her and in response she spread her legs and opened her arms to receive him. He moved over her and guided himself into her hot, sticky entrance as she rained hot, urgent kisses on his shoulder. He thrust in and out of her, finding a rhythm quickly while simultaneously teasing her clitoris with his fingers.

  “Oh yes,” she moaned. She couldn’t keep quiet as Vaughn filled every part of her. It felt so good and she matched his urgency with her own need by gyrating underneath him. She explored the hard lines of his back over his shirt as she met his every thrust. Currents of desire coursed through her when he suckled her breasts again through her dress. Miranda came apart as her orgasm struck. Vaughn came right after her and thrust in her one final time, his groan loud and primal. He fell atop her, but quickly eased onto his side on the couch and held her to him.

  They were both quiet at the reality of what just happened between them. She was still fully clothed with her dress bunched up at her waist, while Vaughn’s pants were around his ankles and he still wore his shirt. Miranda had never felt that needy before, as if she’d die if she didn’t have him inside her.

  Vaughn was smiling down at her. “I like you like this.”

  When she could catch her breath, she asked, “Like what?”

  “Wild. Free. Uninhibited.” He leaned forward to brush his lips across hers. “That’s how I want you when you’re in bed with me.” Miranda swallowed hard. She wasn’t used to such blatant talk about sex especially when he said, “Promise me, you won’t close yourself off to me, Miranda. You’ll tell me or show me that you enjoy everything we do together.”

  She couldn’t speak. All she could do was merely nod her head. And then Vaughn lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing more than a paperweight and carried her to the master bedroom.

  Chapter 12

  Vaughn couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in late because he never did. Because of his military training, he was usually up at the crack of dawn, working out or on his laptop. But he’d never felt this warm and sated. Earlier that morning, they’d reached for each other in the darkness, right before dawn when they were both caught between waking and sleeping. Miranda’s fingers had made slow circles over his belly until they’d reached the rigid column of his shaft. Then she’d stroked him from the bottom to the head until he’d swelled to life and entered her warm, trembling body. He closed his eyes, remembering the way her silky soft skin had felt and how hot and wet she’d been as he’d bucked inside her. They’d both reached the pinnacle within minutes.

  Lazily, Vaughn stretched and reached for Miranda, but the bed was empty. Cold, in fact, and Vaughn lifted his head in concern. He hoped she wasn’t getting cold feet in the harsh light of day. He’d told her he didn’t want a marriage on paper; he wanted a real one. But Miranda was ultrasensitive and he hadn’t realized when he’d been preoccupied with the break-in that she might take it to mean that he didn’t want her. Nothing could have been further from the truth. She’d consumed his attention nearly from the moment they’d met. And now that he’d gotten to know her, it had only grown stronger. He very much wanted to have sex with her.

  Vaughn pushed back the covers and slipped on a pair of boxers. Then he went in search of his wife. He found Miranda in the kitchen wearing a robe that barely reached her thighs. What appeared to be the makings of an omelet were on the large polished quartz surface of the breakfast island. There was a carton of eggs, spinach, onions, mushrooms and sausage along with several slices of toast she was buttering.

  “Good morning,” he greeted her with a wide smile.

  “Good morning. Did you sleep well?” she inquired with a devilish grin as she halved the toast and put them on the plate.

  “You know I did,” he said, grabbing a slice of toast and happily munching. “You wore me out this morning.”

  “Who reached for whom last time?”

  Vaughn chuckled. They’d made love on more than one occasion through the wee hours of the morning. This last time with her backside against his groin, he’d awoken and cupped her breasts. One thumb had grazed across her nipple while the other hand tangled luxuriously in the soft fuzz of hair between her legs and began to rhythmically stroke her slick, wet flesh. “Yes, I guess you’re right. But I can’t help it.” He finished off the last bite of toast and walked toward her, pulling her into his embrace. “I desire my wife.” His libido was in overdrive and he couldn’t fight the impulse to have her here, now, on the bar.

  Miranda pushed away from him. “Don’t you start again! I have a frittata cooking in the oven and it’s nearly done. I won’t have you ruining breakfast.”

  “Oh c’mon.” Vaughn snatched her back to him. “There’s always time for a quickie.” He glanced mischievously at the bar. “I could put you up here.” He lifted her off her feet and placed her on the breakfast bar. “Kiss you here,” he said. He opened her robe, happy she was naked underneath, and lowered his head to
kiss the valley between her breasts. “Suck you here.” He lowered his head to one round globe and closed his mouth around one chocolate nipple.

  “Oh...” she moaned and Vaughn used her distraction to move between her parted legs, while his mouth continued suckling her breasts. Miranda clasped her hands to his head to keep him in place. Then he eased the silk of her robe aside and slid one long finger along the sensitive seam of her cleft. He teased it with a whisper touch and loved how she jumped.

  She gasped when his fingers delved deeper and eased inside. “We—we can’t, not here, what about the—”

  “Forget the darn frittata,” he growled because the deeper he went, sparks were shooting behind his eyelids, threatening to drive him to his knees.

  * * *

  Miranda was overcome. She was a mass of tangled nerve endings. Because that was what Vaughn did to her. He made her want him, need him, inside her. He tugged his boxers down, grasped her hips forward and in one fluid stroke filled her in all the places that ached for him. Then he pulled her face to his and his lips began to mesh with hers, insistent and coaxing. Purring her approval, she hooked her hands behind his neck and tipped her face for his hot kisses. It was impossible to think with the thick fog of pure unadulterated lust clogging her brain. Vaughn began to move inside her, quick and sure at times, then alternating between slow and sensual, drawing out the moment.

  His mouth was scorching but tender as he slanted it over hers, spinning a silken web of arousal around her. Would she ever see clear of it? The answer was no. Who knew how long this feeling would last? They’d entered this marriage knowing it had a set time limit, yet last night, Vaughn had indicated he wanted more. Miranda was afraid to believe him, to fully invest in their relationship. She would just enjoy it until the time came when she may have to walk away from him. Somehow, some way she would do so with her pride intact and without feeling as desolate as she did in her other relationships.