Her delight emerged in a muffled shriek as her body surged back to life, remembering the orgasm that had been so close. Her calves tensed as he pushed down on her, her knees pressing against her br**sts as he pulled back and stroked deep again and again. “So tight and hot,” he gritted, slamming deep into her again. “Dreamed of doing this to you for years.” Thrust. “Taking you in my arms and f**king the living daylights out of you.” Thrust. “Better than I ever thought it would be.”
Her p**sy clenched hard with every word, her moans turning into a soft, continuous cry. Every time he stroked, a hard pulse of pleasure washed through her, her entire body tightening until she felt as if she’d explode. It was like she was trapped in an endless orgasm—coming and coming—and yet with each hard thrust, he pushed her just a little higher.
Then something shattered in her, and a broken little cry escaped her throat as her entire body pulsed, hard, and he bit out a curse at the same time. “Fuck yeah,” he growled. “Come for me, Miranda.”
She did. Hard. And when her cries died down, he bit out another oath and got his own release. Then he collapsed on top of her, panting, his forehead damp with sweat. Her legs eased down to his sides and she wrapped them around him, easing her arms over his shoulders and clinging to him as her body quivered in aftershocks.
That had been…intense. What he’d made her feel…there were no words. Or if there were, she didn’t know them. The way he’d been so intent on her pleasure made her blush just to think about. And she thought of the words he’d said as he’d f**ked her deep and hard.
Dreamed of doing this to you for years. Better than I ever thought it would be.
He’d been thinking about her? Daydreaming about her? For years?
And all this time, she’d hated his guts so bad she’d f**k a man just to ruin his life.
Miranda didn’t like herself very much in that moment.
Dane’s hand cupped her head and he turned her face toward him, kissing her lips softly. “Thank you,” he said in a husky voice.
A knot formed in her throat and she closed her eyes, pretending to yawn. “For what?”
He toyed with a lock of hair—damp with sweat—on her forehead. “For this. For this week. It was pretty much perfect. I…have to tell you something.”
She stiffened under him. Oh God. What was he going to say? She couldn’t open her eyes, couldn’t bear the thought of looking at him and seeing the truth. “Dane—”
“Shh. I want to tell you.” His fingertips tucked the strand of hair in place and then glided along her cheekbone. “I had a…rough time when I left the NHL. A woman…she was responsible for me being fired. I turned her down and she made up a bunch of stories about me to the press.”
A knot formed in her throat. So he’d been used and publicly humiliated? She didn’t know what to say. Did he want her to speak? Or was there more to tell? Hesitantly, she brushed her hand across his nape, stroking the soft skin there. It was a touch to comfort and encourage. To let him know she was there, and she was listening.
“I hated her,” he said after a long moment, as if warring with himself. “I hated her so much, and felt so betrayed at the moment when I was the most vulnerable, and I thought…well. I thought I was going to give up women for a long, long time. Maybe forever. Because I couldn’t look into a woman’s face and not see that bitch glaring back at me.”
She opened her eyes and continued to stroke his neck, waiting.
He turned back to her, his eyes hooded. She met his gaze, and he searched her face, as if looking for something there. “But that was before this week. Before you. I haven’t touched a woman in over three years. Didn’t want to…until I saw you again, and realized what I wanted. And I wanted to say thank you. Like I said, this week was perfect.”
He kissed the side of her mouth.
She twitched under him, not saying anything. After a moment, he chuckled and rolled off her, then pulled her close, cuddling her. Miranda said nothing, simply closed her eyes and waited for more. He snuggled close, his breath in the curve of her neck, and his breathing grew deep and even. Sleeping.
She couldn’t sleep. Her mind was freaking out.
Dane had just confessed why he’d been kicked out of hockey. Someone else had done it to him. Casanova Croft was a fraud. He wasn’t a ladies’ man or a poon hound. Underneath the sexy, ultraconfident exterior was a man who’d apparently been thinking about nailing her for nine years, and who had been so hurt by a woman that he’d not had sex since being betrayed.
The jerk had a soft side. A really big soft side. A vulnerable one that he’d launched straight in front of her bull’s-eye.
And in that awful, wonderful, tender, horrific moment, Miranda realized two things.
One—that she wasn’t going to be coldhearted enough to get her revenge on Dane Croft after all.
And two—that she was still terribly, horribly, head over heels in love with the man and likely had been since high school.
Well…fuck.
THIRTEEN
The next morning dawned crisp and cool, though Miranda had been warm curled up next to Dane all night. They’d made love several more times before she’d fallen into an exhausted slumber in his arms. Part of her hadn’t expected him to stay at her side all night, but when she’d rolled over and yawned, he’d woken her up with a kiss.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he’d said with a grin and a light smack to her ass.
She given him a flustered smile back, but her mind was racing a million miles a minute. He hadn’t left her last night. They’d slept in each other’s arms. That felt like relationship material.
Under no circumstances could she entertain a relationship with Dane. None. Zero.
Preoccupied, she hadn’t minded when he’d kissed her forehead, dressed, and went about breaking down camp.
She dressed just as quickly. “So…shouldn’t we be heading back?”
A grin broke across his handsome face, and she felt her breath catch. Lord, he was easy on the eyes. She’d grown too used to seeing that face when she woke up. That’d change soon enough.
“Right.” He belted his shorts and pulled a piece of paper out of it and handed it to her. It was a small map with instructions. “When I met you yesterday, I was supposed to give you this.” He gave her a look that was part chagrin, part pleased with himself. “Looks like we forgot. You can follow this back to the main camp. I need to swing by and check on the others to make sure they broke down their campsites.”
“Great,” she said with a bright smile. “I guess once I have things taken care of here, I’ll see you back at base camp.”
His look immediately became troubled. “Miranda…”
She moved toward him and couldn’t stop herself from plucking a pine needle off of his shirt and brushing it clean. Her hands lingered on his chest, thinking of last night and how good it had felt to be in his arms.
“I’m not going to say anything to anyone,” she said softly, knowing that was his unspoken question. “It’s your job, and I know that if we exposed our secret, it could ruin you.”
“Wrong,” he said, and tugged her closer, pulling her h*ps against his as if he wanted to drag her back to the remnants of camp and lie in bed for a few hours longer. He smiled down at her. “I’ve been thinking…”
“Oh?” She forced a light smile to her face. Nothing good ever accompanied the words I’ve been thinking.
“When I get back, I’m going to talk to the guys. Let them know about us. We shouldn’t have to hide what we did. I’m not ashamed.”
She stared up at him. “What?”
“I’m going to tell them about us,” he repeated patiently, and tugged at her h*ps as if it could drag her attention back to the conversation. “You and me…I want them to know about us. I just need some time to talk to the guys. Ease them into it. Leave it to me. I want them to know you’re mine, and we’re together.”
Miranda smiled up at him, the pit of her stomach sick. “If you’re sure…”
“I’m sure. Just leave it to me.” He reached down and touched the side of her neck, then pulled her in for a long, hard kiss. “See you back at camp.”
Miranda broke down her campsite and headed back to the base camp. It took about half the morning, but along the way, she ran into Steve and they walked back together in cheerful companionship. Though she forced herself to answer his conversation with calm, happy responses, her mind was wild with uncertainty.
Dane wanted to continue their relationship. She was leaving for Houston far too soon, starting a new life. There was no room for him there. What could she do? Tell him the truth? That she’d been out for revenge due to a high school prank but he was so amazing in bed she’d changed her mind, and they should make a go for it until she had to bail out and move to Houston?
Say nothing and just disappear? Confess the truth? She was torn.
Following the coordinates on the tiny map, they were able to find a finish line tape set up between two stout trees. Brenna and Grant waited there, excited to see the students trickle in from the woods. Nearby, a few other students had already returned. They still had their backpacks on, and stood chatting, clearly not ready to leave yet. In the distance, Miranda could see the ranch house that was the business headquarters.
Brenna wore a party hat. She blew a paper horn at the sight of them and whirled a noisemaker as Miranda and Steve stepped through the ribbon at the same time. “Congratulations!” she called. “You both passed with flying colors! Come over here so I can give you your certificates.”
Miranda was suddenly surrounded by other well-wishers—people from her team, people from the other team, Grant, Brenna—everyone wanted to shake her hand and chat with her about how the week had gone. Brenna handed her a certificate. “Thank you for being a part of Wilderness Survival this past week.”
Dazed, Miranda took the certificate and glanced around. No Dane, no Colt. No Pete, but that was a good thing. “Is…everyone here?”
“Not yet,” explained Brenna. “I think we had one or two get lost in the woods. Dane went to track them down.” She grinned at Miranda. “Still working the kinks out in everything with it being the first class. Glad you made it, though!”
Miranda gave her a weak smile.
Grant stepped in front of her, camera in hand. Oh. “Hey, Miranda,” he said with a friendly smile. “Good to see you again. I heard you’d signed up. You’re just in time for me to get your picture for our graduation board.”
Miranda froze, her skin crawling at the sight of the camera. Suddenly, she did not want her picture taken. She didn’t want to stand here and awkwardly wait for Dane. She didn’t want the others to smile and hug her and chat.
She wanted to run very far away. She wanted to leave this week behind and forget it had ever happened. She was sorry she’d ever gotten in the closet with Dane Croft nine years ago. She was sorry about the pictures, and about her revenge that had gone so very, very wrong.