Chapter 88: 10880 Malibu

[Chapter 88: 10880 Malibu]

Eric walked over to the living room couch and sat down. The lady hung up her coat and followed him, and their eyes locked, creating an intimate atmosphere. Unable to resist, Eric wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

"Take off your high heels," he instructed.

Virginia obediently kicked off her heels, feeling his strong hands roam over her waist and hips. With a husky whisper, she asked, "Eric, can I take a shower first?"

He didn't answer her question. After Virginia removed her high heels, she became a bit shorter, yet Eric remained unsatisfied. He applied a little more pressure with his hands, causing her eyes to flash briefly before she compliantly knelt on the carpet.

Noticing the glint of satisfaction in Eric's eyes from his vantage point above her, Virginia propped herself up on his thigh, tilting her alluring face upward, her eyes hazy as she half teased, half questioned, "Do all men enjoy their women groveling at their feet?"

Eric caressed her smooth cheek and replied matter-of-factly, "Sure, but unfortunately, most lack the ability to make a woman submit completely. What's up with your hair? I don't remember it looking like this last time."

Puzzled, Virginia ran her fingers through her light golden curls, resembling the iconic Marilyn Monroe hairstyle. "Is there a problem?" she asked.

"That color isn't appealing. Change it tomorrow," he directed.

His commanding tone made her slightly resistant. "But my stylist said this color complements my eyes perfectly."

"I prefer a golden brown," he insisted.

Virginia shot him a betrayed look. "Fine."

Eric slid down the straps of her gown, pulling off her small nipple covers, and audaciously toyed with her chest. "Do you have a management company now?"

Virginia shook her head, breathless, "I just have an independent agent; he..."

Eric interrupted, "Your career hasn't gone anywhere in years. That guy's no good; fire him and go to UTA to find Kepler. I'll have him take you on personally."

"Kepler Hyde?" Virginia's eyes lit up. She knew exactly who he was. Kepler only had three clients: the ambiguously connected Drew Barrymore, Al Pacino, who was staging his comeback thanks to Pretty Woman, and the media's newly dubbed 'Hollywood Cinderella,' Julia Roberts.

Virginia couldn't believe she could become his fourth. Just moments ago, she panicked over whether Eric would turn on her after their night together or just cast her aside for a minor role.

"Eric, thank you."

He grinned and scooped her up in his arms. "Now your job is to please me, where's the bedroom?"

Guided by Virginia, Eric carried her up to the second-floor bedroom, tossing her petite frame onto the big bed. Their clothes quickly became a flurry around the room as Eric positioned himself above her, placing himself between her generous chest.

As he toyed with her, he looked down and asked with a smirk, "Can you handle it?"

She gave him a flirtatious nod while playfully gripping him, occasionally leaning down to tease him with soft kisses.

...

Eric awoke to the sound of waves crashing against the shore, sunlight streaming through the curtain slits. He glanced at the woman curled in his arms. Though the view stirred his desires, he didn't want to disturb Virginia from her peaceful slumber -- it was more about self-control.

The previous night had been a bit excessive; he had kept her quite busy. He'd explored nearly every move he'd seen in adult films, and experience had shown him that ripe peaches could indeed handle much more than the harder vibe of someone like Jennifer Aniston. Virginia's playful disposition had truly satisfied him.

After dressing, he stepped onto the balcony and discovered the view was far better than he'd perceived the night before. He could see the ocean in the distance as the sun peered over the horizon, painting the water an exaggerated orange.

An unsightly jut appeared in the southwest corner of his view, disrupting the picture-perfect white sands. Squinting to see more clearly, he remembered what that place was. Waking up after a night of passion always amplified a man's ambitions.

With thoughts swirling, he returned to Virginia's bedroom, finding a stack of A4 paper on her bedside table, seemingly a script. Eric was too disinterested to read it; any script that reached Virginia's hands wasn't likely worth much. Next to it sat a pen. He picked it up, grabbed a chair, and sat on the balcony, laying the stack of papers on his knee.

He carefully examined the terrain of the jutting land and began sketching on the blank side of the paper. The pen wasn't as comfortable as a pencil but served its purpose.

The scratching of pen on paper filled the air for over half an hour before Virginia awoke, noticing her companion had vanished. She felt a brief pang of panic before spotting his serious figure on the balcony, immersed in his drawing.

Throwing off the covers, she slipped out of bed barefoot, draping a sheer robe around herself as she approached him and affectionately wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"Good morning, Eric."

"Morning, Vicky. Do you still have any use for this script?"

Virginia shook her head. "Go ahead and draw; it's useless. I worked really hard on it, but I didn't get the part."

Eric nodded, returning to his drawing.

"What are you crafting there, Eric?" she asked.

He casually ripped off a bird's-eye view sketch and handed it to her, pointing at the southwest jut.

Virginia took a look and exclaimed, "This is... a design?"

"Yeah, a blueprint for a mansion. I plan to buy that piece of land and build a house like this," he replied.

Virginia chuckled as she returned the blueprint. "But that's a park!"

"Not like Central Park in New York. If we think it through, we can definitely make it happen. I intend to buy up that nearly one-hectare plot of land. I bet the Los Angeles County government would be thrilled to bring in that extra income," he declared.

One hectare? She clumsily estimated the size: a hectare was just over 100,000 square feet, while her little villa barely broke a thousand square feet.

Goodness, a mansion 100 times the size of hers was already beyond Virginia's wildest dreams. If only this man belonged to her... No, even being his lover and spending time in that dream mansion would be simply divine.

"Eric, the ground conditions there seem unsuitable for a mansion. Otherwise, wealthy folks would have jumped at the chance to buy it by now," she suggested, her voice nearly sultry as she began brainstorming ideas. "I think it's better to choose a piece of land with a private beach. Why does it have to be there?"

With a smirk, Eric sketched another image from his mind onto the white paper. "Because that's 10880 Malibu," he paused, then added, "My 10880 Malibu!"

*****

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