The Girl's Guide to (Man)Hunting (15 page)

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, pretending 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.

“Of course,” she said quickly, pulling her hand back out of his and sitting on the blanket promptly. “But…” She hesitated, and he watched her bite her lip in the moonlight. “I’m warning you, this might be more difficult than you think with the whole three-times thing.”

So that was it? She was worried that she wouldn’t be able to perform? That was a bit of role reversal. He swallowed the laugh that threatened to rise in his throat, guessing that she wouldn’t appreciate that. “Miranda, you’re thinking too much about this. If it takes all night to get you to relax, then it takes all night. All right?”

“Sure,” she said lamely, and he knew she didn’t believe him.

He nodded at her shoes. “Why don’t you take those off? Get comfortable?” She did so, kicking them off and wiggling her feet in her socks. He moved onto the blanket with her and she stiffened, so he pulled back again. This was…different. When Miranda had come on to him, she’d been confident, sexy, and wild. But he’d told her his plans and she’d stewed all day on what he wanted to do to her. Now he could see it was a mistake that he’d let her anticipate their meeting tonight. Gone was the confident woman from earlier—in her place was a skittish girl who seemed to be terrified that she was going to somehow prove one
of them wrong and disappoint them both. He knew her mind would be working hard on the fact that she needed to have an orgasm—more than one—to please him.

In other words, his sexy promise had completely stressed her out. Not exactly the desired reaction.

He sat next to her and took her hand in his. “Hey.”

She looked at him, wary. “What is it?”

“I promise to come all over your face if you take too long on your end. Deal?” He said it purely to ease the tension from her shoulders, the strange worry that he’d somehow put there by promising her pleasure.

Miranda giggled, and the sound washed over him like an electric current, lighting up his nerve endings. That soft, sultry little giggle made his cock instantly hard. But he ignored that, studying her face.

“Gosh, thanks,” she said sarcastically, but her face was lit up in a smile.

He liked seeing that smile. Dane leaned forward and put a hand at the base of her head, pulling her forward. His mouth captured hers in a kiss—hot, wet, and open. She gasped and stiffened against him, her mind clearly starting up. He didn’t want that. Apparently when she thought too much, she worried about her own responses and whether they were right or not. He just wanted her to
respond
, not to think about responding. So he stroked his tongue into her mouth, a wicked, hard thrust designed to take her off guard and remind her what they were here for.

She stiffened for a moment, and then he felt her melt against him. Her hands moved to his chest and shoulders, fingers curling into his shirt as she held on. His tongue thrust into her mouth
again, then he rubbed it against hers, teasing her, coaxing with every slow, deep plunge of his tongue. Each thrust was a reminder of what he was going to do to her very shortly, and he wanted her to know it. Make her feel every deep lick into her mouth straight to her pussy.

With each breath, she gasped, making soft little noises in the back of her throat. He liked that—he liked that a lot, but he continued to kiss her, not rushing a thing. Instead of the deep, searing kisses, he changed tactics on her. With one last lick into her mouth, he started nibbling at her lips, tasting the plump softness, appreciating the way that she responded to his kisses. And he slowly, slowly pulled her forward with each kiss, until he hauled her into his lap and forced her to straddle him.

He expected her to stiffen again, but she didn’t—she eagerly straddled him and her hips rocked against his, her hands going to his neck as she began to kiss him back with eager intensity. And when he pressed another light kiss to her mouth, she made a noise of frustration and took the initiative, moving away from the soft kisses and back to a deep, searing one, her tongue seeking out his.

Fuck yes. He pressed down on her hips, letting her feel the hard length of him against her, and was rewarded with a low moan in her throat. “Feel that? I’ve been walking around hard all day, thinking about you and your sweet little mouth, that long hair, your tight pussy. I can’t wait to taste you.”

She stiffened against him, and he felt the uncertainty wash over her. Damn. Back to square one.

He gave her another deep kiss, but he could tell she was pulling back again. The only way he was going to get her over this ridiculous fear was to show her she had nothing to be afraid of.
“Miranda,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her mouth lightly again. “I’m going to show you that you can come as often as you want to. Just because you dated a bunch of fools in the past with sausages for fingers doesn’t mean that you’re the problem. Understand?”

She shook her head, and that sexy fall of dark hair brushed over her shoulders. “What if it was a fluke?” she whispered. “What if we try tonight and we can’t make it happen?”

She sounded so brokenhearted at the thought that his chest ached. In that instant, he decided that he was going to make her come if it killed him, just to prove to her that she wasn’t the problem. And if it took until dawn, then he was going to enjoy every last minute of it. “You’re focusing on the wrong things,” he told her, using every ounce of willpower he had not to thrust up against her hips. Tonight was going to be about her, not him. “It’s not about how fast you can come. It’s about how much you enjoy yourself until you do. Understand me?”

She gave a small snort in the darkness. “I’m not stupid, Dane. I know what sex is about.”

“Of course you do. And that’s why you’re going to let me show you how to enjoy yourself, aren’t you?” He grinned at her and rocked forward, tipping them both onto the crinkling blanket until Miranda was pinned beneath him and he lay on top of her.

Her eyes widened as his weight settled over her and she stared up at him. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m going to enjoy myself.”

Dane grinned down at her. “Good. Now, can I take your top off?”

She hesitated a moment, then nodded. When he reached for
the hem of her shirt, she wiggled and helped him pull it off. Her bra was another lacy confection, this one so sheer that he could see her dusky nipples in the moonlight through the fabric. He leaned down and brushed his mouth over one, feeling the fabric abrade against the sensitive peak.

Miranda’s breath sucked in and her hands went to his shoulders, her body tensing slightly under him. She’d liked that.

Just that small reaction made him feel like the fucking king of the world.

“Tonight you’re going to let me take control, Miranda. I’m going to decide what you like, and I’m going to take that and use it to pleasure you, understand?”

She rolled her eyes at him and attempted to get up, but he took her arm and pinned it above her head, his grip gentle but firm. “Understand?” he said softly. “This is about letting me have control over you. About me giving you pleasure.”

Her body trembled under his, and her hips flexed in an automatic gesture of need. She widened her eyes, staring up at him, and slowly nodded. “All yours,” she said. “For tonight.”

“Very good,” he murmured, and slid a hand over her shoulders, feeling the warmth of her creamy skin, enjoying the way the moonlight played over her body. He could feel her heart pounding under his hand, and he glanced up at her face. She had the same melting, soft expression in her eyes that he’d recognized from before—the one where she was lost in desire. Good, that was exactly what he wanted to see from her.

His fingers hooked to the front of the pretty bra. There was a tiny bow at the front, and he tugged at the fabric beneath it. “You’ve got another one of these, right?”

A frown creased her brow. “Why?”

He’d take that as a yes. Dane snagged his finger under the fabric and ripped it straight down the center. The flimsy fabric split in half, exposing her breasts to the moonlight. “Because it’s in my way.”

“You Neanderthal,” she said, but a laugh bubbled up in her throat and she halfheartedly tried to slap his hand away.

He kept her other arm pinned and just grinned at her, his hand moving quickly to cup one of the breasts. It was perfectly rounded, and he felt the hard little nipple scrape against his palm as he touched her.

Her laugh died in her throat, her eyes widening just a little at the caress, her expression going soft.

Dane cupped her breast, feeling the weight of it against his palm, and put his other hand on her opposite breast, watching her reaction. She didn’t move, her arm still above her head as if he yet pinned it. Her cheeks were flushed with desire and her breathing had sped up slightly. That was good. That was very good.

He brushed a thumb across one nipple, finding it hard and peaked. Her breath sucked in at the small touch, so he repeated it, rubbing the tip back and forth with his thumb. She arched underneath him, her lips parting, her eyes closing in ecstasy. He continued to rub at the nipple with one hand, enjoying the small whimpers that poured forth from her, and bent over the other peak. He brushed his lips against it, then nibbled at the tip.

It hardened underneath his lips and he lapped at it, then he swirled his tongue while she moaned in response. Her back
arched under him, pressing her breasts harder against his hands, and he felt her hips give a tiny instinctive buck.

How had Miranda thought she was unresponsive in bed? How had her boyfriends of the past not been able to wring orgasms from her? Were they idiots who hadn’t cared if she came or not? Or had they always let her have control of the situation, never realizing that what she truly craved was to be the one out of control? The one off guard? He’d discovered that when she was thinking, she worried. His goal had been to stop that thinking, and all it had taken was kisses on the soft skin and attention to her breasts. And her responses were delicious—already she writhed under him, needing more.

And damn if it wasn’t making him as hard as a rock. His cock was thick and heavy in his shorts, straining against his clothing, but he ignored it. He wanted to bring her to where she needed to be before he even thought about himself. And right now, she needed him touching her.

He pressed another kiss on the tip of her nipple, enjoying the way her skin prickled in a thousand tiny goose bumps in reaction. So responsive. He bit lightly at the pale flesh, then kissed the nip away, replacing his mouth with his hand and cupping her breast once more, his thumbs grazing the nipples to keep her fevered. And as he touched her, he lowered his mouth to the cleft between her breasts, kissing the soft skin there.

Her response was a small sigh of pleasure, her fingers tightening in his shirt. She liked to be kissed. He decided in that moment that Miranda Hill needed a lot more kissing. He pressed a kiss lower, on her ribs and belly, then another, and another,
enjoying the silky feeling of her skin. Her body was perfect in the moonlight, softly rounded but sleek, all curves and delicate skin.

He nibbled at her stomach, enjoying the flutter of her laughter.

“That tickles,” she whispered.

“Good.” He kissed her sweet belly because he could, and because he liked tickling her. His thumbs brushed over her nipples again, and he felt her chuckle turn into a rasping inhalation of pleasure. He could sit here and play with her gorgeous breasts for hours, he mused to himself, moving back to her breasts and replacing one hand with his mouth again. The nipple looked sadly neglected and he leaned in to bite at it.

She jumped and shivered again.