Once she’d climbed on top of him, she squeezed her eyes shut, breathing hard and waiting for the stupid thing to attack. A long moment passed in which she could only hear her own rapid panting, and then she heard a disgruntled cluck from the bird, a ruffle of feathers, and then nothing else.
Daring greatly, she peeked across the bank, and sure enough, the bird was leaving. She exhaled loudly in relief.
“Miranda?” Dane said in a weird voice. “Are you all right?”
She looked down at him.
Dane’s face was pressed between her br**sts. Her bra straps had fallen low on her shoulders, the entire garment slipping down several inches. Her n**ples were barely covered by the damp cups and were clearly outlined. Worse than that, she was clutching his head to her br**sts in an effort to anchor her body on the high point that she’d climbed in her distress…aka, him.
As she took stock of her body parts, she realized that her legs were still wrapped around him. She was pretty sure those were his hands all over her ass, too. “Hi there,” she said brightly, trying not to blush. “Guess what? I found an emu.”
“Looks like it,” he said in a husky voice, his hot gaze on her face.
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 p**sy 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 h*ps 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 p**sy 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 h*ps 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 c*ck 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 n**ples; 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 h*ps 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 f**king now. Her legs locked around him tighter, pulling her wet p**sy against his c*ck 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 p**sy, and he groaned against her breast. “You are f**king soaked.”
She could feel it—feel how totally slick her p**sy was, how his rough finger slid along the heated flesh. Her h*ps twisted, and she desperately needed him to touch her right—
Her eyes flew open just as he sank one thick finger into her p**sy, 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 h*ps 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.