Her bra strap slipped farther down her shoulder, and she shrugged a little, trying to get it to move back up.
His gaze focused on the strap. As she watched, Dane moved forward and his mouth brushed against her arm. She shivered as he caught the bra strap in his teeth and began to slide it slowly up one pale shoulder.
The breath escaped her lungs. She watched him gently use his teeth to slide her bra strap into place, scarcely daring to breathe. His hands still clutched at her ass, his fingers digging into her flesh in a way that turned her on.
“Dane,” she said softly, the word a breathy plea. While she’d hoped to tease him a little—okay, a lot—with her bathing, the reality was almost overwhelming to her senses.
And it made her hungry for more. After her bra strap was back in place, his mouth remained on her shoulder, and he very softly pressed a kiss to her collarbone. Miranda shivered, her hands clasping his neck harder. She wanted to be the one in charge—to tell him where and how to kiss her. But at the feathery kisses he was pressing to her skin, she shuddered and let him lead. It felt so good. With a small sigh of pleasure, she tilted her head to the opposite side, moving her wet hair and exposing her neck to him.
He took the suggestion. His mouth moved to the base of her neck, and he pressed a light kiss against the hollow next to her collarbone, then teased the spot with his tongue.
That gentle lick caused her pussy to flare with need, and she gasped, pulling him closer. “Dane,” she murmured again, her voice softer than before.
He unhooked her legs from around his waist and slid her to the ground, and the lovely skin contact was broken.
Miranda gave a disappointed sigh as her first foot touched down. Her sigh was swallowed up when he continued to hold her other leg behind the knee. It forced her to hang on to his neck, pressing her sex against his body in a blatant fashion. Pressing her right up against his cock, which, even through his pants, was clearly hard and ready.
She gasped at the sensation, her gaze flicking up to his. Dane’s eyes were hooded and sleepy with desire, mere slits of green in his tanned face. There was a hint of a smile tugging at the line of his mouth, and she watched that mouth as he turned and leaned forward. Her ass rested on a low-hanging tree branch, and she was trapped between the tree and Dane’s massive form. Not that she wanted to escape. She wanted him to lean closer, to put those lips on her skin again.
She got her wish. Dane’s mouth swooped onto her own, capturing her gasp before she could release it. His tongue dove into her mouth, giving her a hard, possessive flick. It danced along her own tongue, twining briefly before darting to graze against her parted lips. He pulled away just long enough for her to catch her breath, and then he was sucking on her lower lip, as if he could devour her whole.
His fingers gripped behind her knee and pulled her closer, and she felt his hips rotate ever so slightly. The subtle gesture pressed his erection against the core of her sex, sending liquid heat flooding through her body. She felt her pussy grow slick with desire, the thin scrap of her panties not leaving her much protection against the abrasive fabric of his jeans—something that turned her on as well.
Gasping her pleasure, Miranda dug her fingernails into his shoulders, leaning in to take his mouth in her own again. As their tongues locked, his hips pressed against her own, and she felt the hard length of him pushing, pushing against her core. Her mouth devouring his, her hand slid between them and rubbed along the hard ridge of his cock in the jeans, and she heard him groan with need.
The sound, raw and full of hunger, made her toes curl with utter pleasure.
His mouth pulled away from hers again, as if it were a fight between the two of them to take control and a kiss was a surrender. Instead, his mouth slid to her chin, tasting her skin there and then sinking lower, to her throat, her collarbone, and her breastbone, teasing the sensitive flesh there where the curve of her breast began.
Miranda suddenly wished her bra had fallen off entirely. She wanted his mouth on her nipples; tugging at them with his teeth was driving her crazy.
His mouth slid over her bra and his teeth nibbled at her sensitive skin, then he stopped with an odd expression on his face. “Tastes like stream water,” he said. That was all the warning she got before he tugged at the cup and exposed her breast, and then his mouth was on her nipple. His tongue rasped against the aching tip, eliciting a gasp and a writhing arch from her. “Much better,” he said huskily, the words blowing across her nipple before he dove at it again.
A strangled sound of delight escaped her throat and Miranda bucked her hips against his jeans-clad cock, throwing her head back at the sensations. God, he knew just how to touch her.
Her arm locked around his neck, and she thrust her breast against his mouth, her breath coming in harsh little gasps. Taking his cue from her, his lips brushed against her nipple, grazing it. She watched him as he nuzzled her breast, as if he simply enjoyed the feeling of her skin, then watched as his mouth closed over the tip, and she felt the delicious scrape of his teeth against her nipple as he took it between them and bit down gently.
A cry broke from her throat.
“You like that? Miss sweet, innocent Miranda likes it a bit rougher? You have no idea how incredibly sexy that is.” His eyes were slits of desire, and he plumped her breast with one hand, making her nipple poke out, a beacon for his mouth. But instead of biting down like she wanted, he glanced back at her. “Or do I remember wrong? What do you want, Miranda?”
“Oh,” she breathed, pushing her nipple back into his mouth when he pulled away. “Please, Dane.”
“Please what?” His lips brushed against her nipple as he spoke, and his mouth grazed the creamy white flesh around it. “Please…lick you gently?” As if to prove a point, he licked the tip of her breast and then blew on it, his hot gaze moving back to her face.
She whimpered in distress. That had felt good, but it wasn’t what she wanted. “Dane, please.”
“Please…bite you?” He leaned in and his teeth flicked against her nipple, more suggestion than action.
“Yes,” she breathed, a shiver of excitement lancing down her body. “Bite. Please.” In response, she strained against him, trying to offer him her breast in suggestion. God, she needed him inside her. Right now. Right fucking now. Her legs locked around him tighter, pulling her wet pussy against his cock even harder. “Oh God, bite me everywhere. Make me come like you promised.”
He gave a low growl in his throat. “I promised I’d make you come tonight, Miranda. Or were you just too impatient to wait?” He pushed her harder against the tree, and she felt one of his hands slide away from her ass and brush against her sex, pinned between them.
The flutters of excitement turned to pulses of need, and her fingernails dug into his back. Oh lord, that felt amazing. Her eyes closed as he moved back toward her breast, anticipation surging. “Touch me. Don’t make me wait.”
His fingertip grazed past her panties, one thick digit sliding against the silky heat of her pussy, and he groaned against her breast. “You are fucking soaked.”
She could feel it—feel how totally slick her pussy was, how his rough finger slid along the heated flesh. Her hips twisted, and she desperately needed him to touch her right—
Her eyes flew open just as he sank one thick finger into her pussy, the gasping cry threatening to escape her throat suddenly swallowed by Dane’s mouth on hers.
“Hello?” A voice called in the distance. “Miranda? Dane?”
Miranda’s orgasm built, so very, very close to the edge, and she bucked her hips—to find that she was suddenly the only one participating. Dane had frozen against her, and though he hadn’t moved, his eyes had gone wide, and his mouth was on hers only to keep her cries from escaping. When she pushed her hips against his hand, he didn’t move.
Her orgasm fizzled at the look on his face: chagrined and a bit ashamed. Ashamed of the thought of being caught with her by one of his clients. For some reason, that made her feel
…dirty. Her memory filled with mental images of the photos in the closet, and she winced, shame slamming into her like a brick to the head. Her hand pushed at his, trying to break free.
“That’s Pete,” he whispered into her ear, disentangling his hands from her body and lowering her so her feet rested on the ground. His gaze focused on the woods, not her face. “We can’t be seen together. I’ll meet him and distract him away while you get dressed.”
She said nothing.
He leaned over and gave her a rough, brisk kiss. “I’ll see you after dark.” With that, he adjusted the crotch of his jeans with his hand, shook himself as if to clear his mind, and headed off into the woods, leaving her here alone.
So he did want to have sex with her. He just didn’t want to have sex with her and have others know about it. Fair enough. If they found out about the two of them before the week was out, her chances at getting her revenge would be slim. After all, what was the point of ruining someone’s reputation with dirty photos if she’d already been caught making out with him? He was right—they had to remain a secret from the others on the survival trip.
So why did she feel so freaking dirty all of a sudden?
To Miranda’s surprise, Dane had turned out to be an excellent teacher. Once she returned to camp, she was able to get a roaring fire going. They ate fish that night and a few berries that Jamie had foraged in the woods for them. And the shelter was a bit lackluster but the evening was warm, and they had spent their time in front of the fire, sharing stories and listening to Dane’s camping tales.
He had stories of when he and Colt had run into a black bear in Alaska, of being stuck in the woods and completely lost and following train tracks for a week before finding civilization again, of fishing and foraging odd things. Of making stew out of squirrel or whatever else they could find when times were lean. Of hiking across the wild with nothing but a multi-tool. Dane’s stories were told with a zealous enthusiasm that she found easy to like. He seemed to honestly enjoy the survival thing, she realized. The sparkle in his eyes wasn’t only due to the firelight. He seemed…happy.
It was weird. The Dane she remembered had been a smug teenage boy who’d always been rushing to his next hockey practice. She’d loved that sulkiness as a teenager, found it irresistibly sexy. The adult Miranda was drawn to the enthusiastic Dane, though. The man who went after what he wanted with both hands and approached the wilderness with an obvious pleasure that turned her on just to see. The new Dane was incredibly sexy. The reasonable, confident man who tended the fire and showed Steve where the shelter had a weakness. The man who took everything in stride, complimented his team when they did a good job, and encouraged them when they did not. He was like a big, grown-up Boy Scout with a wicked, naughty side, she thought, remembering the way he’d slid a finger deep inside her mere hours ago.
Just thinking about it made her want to stick her hand down her panties and play with her clit. She was really, really turned on and she’d gotten no payoff. And every time Dane looked over at her, she couldn’t help but think of their conversation earlier.
Three orgasms tonight. He’d promised her three.
She watched him across the fire, saying nothing. Her gaze went to his hands, watching them move as he retied a hunting knot. Her mind dwelled on how those hands had stroked her wet flesh, and how they had felt against her body. How they had gripped her hips so tightly as he’d pounded into her.
God, this day was taking forever to be over.
This day was going to last forever.
Dane glanced at the sun—still too high in the sky for his liking—as he showed George a deadfall snare for the seventh time that day. The older man meant well, but he wasn’t quick to pick up on the basics, and Dane regretted not assigning the trap-making to Steve instead, who had shown a lot of competence in all the tasks he’d been given. Not that he was thinking about much of anything. His mind kept going to Miranda. How she’d looked with her sexy body wet and glistening from the water. How she’d crawled all over him, and how hot and tight she’d been when he’d slid a finger deep inside her.
He’d gone into this thinking that he could be strong against the lure of an old girlfriend, but at the first opportunity to touch her, he’d caved. Like a weak, starving man offered food, he’d abandoned his obligations and had sex with her, if only to get her out of his mind once and for all. But he’d underestimated how scorchingly hot she’d be after all this time, and how naughty and wicked she’d been in his arms.
And he couldn’t quite get it out of his head, which was why he kept messing up the trap as he tried to show George. She was distracting him. Though she sat completely across from him in the camp, the blazing fire separating the two of them, he could feel her gaze on him. Every time he looked up, she was watching him with those big brown eyes. Her eyes would watch his hands, and he could almost guess what she was thinking. And damn if it wasn’t going to make him hard, right in the middle of camp.
Dane cleared his throat and shifted, making excuses about going to get more firewood. He returned a few minutes later, his desire under control once more, and dropped the armful of logs in camp. While he was gone, Pete had sat down next to Miranda, and the young CEO was talking her ear off. She seemed uninterested, though she was smiling politely, her legs drawn up to her chest as she sat. It was clear that Pete was totally smitten with her.
Dane picked up a piece of wood and began to break off the smaller branches, rounding off the wood so it would burn evenly. He moved toward the fire, listening to their conversation.
“So like I was saying,” Pete said, his body turned toward Miranda. “There’s a huge awards show next month. E3 convention. It’s a big thing in gaming. I haven’t designated a date yet, though there are tons of women who would kill to go.”
Miranda’s smile was polite but distracted. “Sounds like a nice time,” she said absently.
“I was wondering if you’d want to check it out,” he said in a lower voice. “I could get you in as long as you were with me.”
Dane’s hands tightened on the log and it threatened to snap. As long as she slept with him, Pete meant. He was just pussyfooting around the concept.
Either Miranda didn’t hate the idea or it was too subtle for her. She gave Pete an absent smile. “We’ll see.” And her gaze stole back to Dane’s hands, and she clutched her knees a little tighter to her chest, the look in her eyes going soft again.
Fuck. She was thinking about their interlude by the stream earlier. He recognized that soft, melting look in her eyes. She’d had the same expression on her face right before they’d been interrupted. Fuck, fuck.
The memory of that seared through his mind again. “We need more wood,” he barked at the group and walked away again before they could catch his returning erection.
Eventually, the camp turned in and went to bed. Dane didn’t sleep, his body tense and aware of the others. In the middle of the night, when the other men were snoring, Dane got up from the shelter and began to poke at the fire. He was intensely aware of his surroundings, of the quiet hum of the forest, the snores of the men piled into the makeshift shelter, and of Miranda’s small lean-to on the far side of the fire.
He was especially attuned to her actions, and when her eyes opened and she sat up, giving him an expectant look, he put a finger to his lips. A glance backward showed that the others were still asleep, which was perfect.
She yawned and gestured that she was going to go out to the woods first, and for him to follow.
He nodded, and watched her pick her way across the campsite and toward a large landmark tree. It gave him a small bit of pleasure to notice that she’d been utterly silent as she’d crossed the campsite—Miranda was smart and clever, and she knew that the snap of a twig could potentially blow their cover. He liked that about her—that she used her brain. That she knew this required stealth and silence. They were on the same page.
Dane adjusted the fire for a bit longer, then moved to the woodpile, pre
tending to be unsatisfied with the size of it. No one was awake, but he felt better acting out the ruse just in case. He placed another log on the fire, and then left camp in the opposite direction from Miranda. Anyone who woke up might think he was heading out in search of more wood. Miranda would know better.
Once the campfire was out of sight, he tracked back and headed in Miranda’s direction. He saw her waiting ahead in a clearing, her arms hugging warmth close to her body. She had her back to him, and he silently brushed a hand along her spine, alerting her to his presence. To his gratification, she didn’t yelp in alarm. She simply turned and gave him a shadowy smile in the darkness, and slipped her hand in his. “Lead on,” she whispered.
He did. He knew these woods well; even in the darkness, the paths were familiar to him. Her hand gripped his tightly and she let him lead the way. When they were in deep enough that he knew the others wouldn’t be able to find them, he paused and cupped her chin, tilting her face up to his for a brief kiss. His lips grazed her mouth, and he could feel his cock harden just thinking about what they were about to do.
“Give me a moment to set up, all right?” he said.
Her expression grew puzzled. “Set up?”
He pulled out a small plastic packet and ripped it open. “Grant insisted that we pack some basic survival supplies just in case someone on the team couldn’t hack it. I brought an insulated blanket so you won’t have to lie on the ground.”
“Oh,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
Dane unwrapped it, wincing at the wrinkling noise in the quiet woods. He spread out the blanket—made of a silver, crinkly sort of cellophane, it was the loudest sort of blanket, but it was the only one he had available. It’d have to do. He got down on his knees to spread it on the ground, and then when it was flat, he turned to Miranda and offered her his hand.
She placed her hand in his, trembling a little. He could feel the shivers working through her body. The evening was cool, but he suspected nervousness on her part. “You okay?” he asked softly.