The Girl's Guide to (Man)Hunting (27 page)

Still, he’d gone to all that trouble—he wanted confirmation at least. “Should I go? Is your husband home?”

Her astonished expression grew even more confused and she opened her mouth wider, then closed it, then tilted her head in a way that made her hair spill over her shoulder and drove him absolutely wild. “Husband? I—I’m not married.”

“Good,” he growled low in his throat, feeling pleased. “Can I come in, then? I think we should talk.”

He half expected her to put up a fuss or make excuses, but she only pushed her hair back over her shoulder and then stepped aside, swinging the door wider so he could enter.

“Sorry, the place is a bit of a mess,” she mumbled.

His gaze moved to the boxes scattering the room. “You just move in?”

She gave him an odd smile. “Yep. Still haven’t unpacked.” And then she darted past him, picking up shoes and the bra she’d apparently discarded as soon as she’d come in the door. She scooped up the items and tossed them into her bedroom, then shut the door. “Have a seat on the couch.”

He didn’t want to sit on the couch like some uninvited guest. Dane wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her now that they didn’t have to hide it from prying clients. He wanted to hold her body against his and feel every curve, soft and naked, and pull her down to the floor and make love to her. To kiss and tease and coax that vague, worried look out of her eyes that told him she was thinking entirely too much right now. “Miranda, come here.”

“Oh, no,” she protested with a half smile, retreating a step even as he advanced. “I smell like I’ve been living in the woods for a week.”

“You smell good to me,” he murmured, snaking one arm around her waist and drawing her close. “But then again, I’ve been living in the woods, too.”

A girlish giggle escaped her throat and her gaze went to his face, and she smiled, her body melting against his. His cock grew instantly hard.

“You and I,” he said slowly, “need to talk about why you ran away earlier today.”

Her smile disappeared and she tried to slide out of his arms. “I wasn’t feeling well. Girl troubles.”

He didn’t buy it. “So did you have girl troubles before or after you wrote down a fake address and phone number on your documentation?”

Her eyes flew open. “How did you—”

“Because I tried calling you, dammit. Once I found out you disappeared this morning, I wanted to know where you’d run away to.” His voice dropped and his hand slid down her back; he sensed she was escaping him, trying to flee even if she stood stock-still in his arms. He needed to anchor her or cut loose for good. So he told her the truth. “I thought we’d had something. It wasn’t just a fling in the woods for me.”

Miranda had never been “just a fling” for him. She’d been the one that had gotten away. The one he’d dreamed about for years. The one that he was going to risk his job for when he told his friends they’d been sleeping together. But he didn’t tell her that. He simply said, “I want to keep seeing you, if you want it.”

She seemed to hesitate, then she slowly melted against him, as if all the things that had been bothering her had dissolved and left her boneless. One hand slid over his shoulders, touched the hair at the nape of his neck, and her gaze roamed over him in a gesture that was both shy and possessive. “You do?”

“Of course I do. Did you think I was just fucking you in the woods and jeopardizing our first class simply because I’d nail any hot piece of ass that walked past?”

“The thought occurred to me,” she said meekly.

He winced.

“Sorry,” she added. “You were just…flirty, back when we were teenagers.”

“Flirty with you,” he said.

“And half a dozen starlets afterward,” she added in.

His jaw set, aching with tension. “So my past is going to be a problem?”

“If it was,” she said in a low, trembling voice, “I wouldn’t be in your arms right now. I just don’t want to get hurt, Dane.” Miranda’s eyes met his and he saw stark terror in them. “I’m terrified of being used.”

She seemed intensely vulnerable in that moment, and he didn’t know what to make of it. Like she was offering him everything she was—and was completely terrified to do so. He brushed her cheek with his fingers and leaned in and gave her a feather-light kiss, sweeping his mouth over hers. “How about you just use me instead? I thought that was how our relationship worked, remember?”

A soft chuckle escaped her, the sound going straight to his cock. Damn. He loved to hear her happy. “Very well,” she said in a playful voice. “You are mine to use and abuse.”

“Sounds good,” he agreed.

She reached for his shirt and then wrinkled her nose up at him. “I smell.”

“I do, too,” he said with a grin. “I came to find you before I showered. Hope that’s okay.”

She smiled, a wide, lovely smile that covered her entire face. “I had no idea I was such an urgent matter.”

“To be honest, I was afraid you were going to waltz back out of my life again, and it scared the shit out of me.”

She looked pleased. “Come on,” she said, giving his shirt a tug. “You can scrub my back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled. “You wanna wash me, too?”

She gave him a sultry look over her shoulder. “Absolutely.”

As she entered the bathroom and began to run the water, he moved into her small bedroom. Though it felt like an invasion of privacy, he hadn’t brought any condoms with him, and he needed to find some. He wasn’t leaving this house until he’d made love to Miranda again. Guessing, he pulled open the drawer of her nightstand. A magazine lay inside, a scatter of condoms, and a bright blue vibrator.

Now, that gave him ideas. Grinning, he grabbed a condom—close to expiration. It was pretty obvious Miranda didn’t buy them often. He’d fix that. Tucking the condom into his pocket, he headed into the bathroom after her.

Like her bedroom, Miranda’s bathroom was neat and clean, the counters shiny and white. A cheerful yellow shower curtain matched a plush bath rug, and she sat on the edge of the tub, peeling off her socks. “I can’t wait to shower,” she admitted with a tiny smile at him. “I’m not exactly feeling sexy at the moment.”

“That’s fine,” he said, trying not to think too hard about the condom in his pocket. “We’ll clean up first, and then have sex.”

She laughed and finished stripping her clothes off. “All right.”

This, Dane decided, was going to be the shortest shower ever. He quickly stripped out of his own clothes and tossed them on the rack while Miranda stepped into the streaming water. Just the thought of her naked body all wet and gleaming made him hard, and her moan of pleasure made his balls tighten. Damn. Get in, wash himself, wash her, then back into the bedroom. Five minutes, max. He could do this.

Steeling himself, he stepped into the shower. She stood in front of the spray, the water only grazing his body as she soaped
up. Her long hair trailed rivulets of water down her back and he sighed, hard, thinking of how he’d like to take her in this shower, bend her over, and—

“You want the soap?”

He took the pink bath pouf she offered him, accepted the squirt of fruity shower gel, and began to rub it on himself with grim, quick intensity, concentrating on getting himself clean rather than on the warm, soapy woman who stood less than a foot away, her face blissful as she washed her hair.

“Do my back?” She turned and presented it to him.

Dane set his jaw. He began to methodically scrub her back, swiping the pouf over her in quick, rapid strokes. Miranda yelped in surprise and jerked away. “Are you trying to scrub my skin off?”

“Sorry,” he said, averting his eyes. Damn, he’d looked over and her breasts were dripping water, the globes of them slick and inviting. He wanted to shove his cock between them and come all over those pretty tits.

Five minutes, he reminded himself. She’d asked him to wait five minutes. Surely he could do that.

“Your turn to rinse off,” she said, and parted the curtain, stepping out. “I’m done.”

Thank Christ. This was the longest shower in all eternity. He quickly rinsed his body off, staring through the small gap in the shower that showed pink buttocks being rubbed dry by a fluffy towel—

Fuck it, he was done with this shower. He turned the water off and shoved the curtain aside, reaching for Miranda as soon as he stepped out of the tub. She squealed in surprise as he pulled her into his wet embrace, and he kissed the surprise out of her
voice. She was lovely and soft and smelled like fruit, and she was driving him utterly insane just by being here. His tongue slid into her mouth and he gave her a long, sensual lick that told her exactly what he wanted to do to her.

She shuddered in his embrace and wrapped her arms around his slick shoulders.

The hallway would do. His hands on her, he dragged her a few feet out of the bathroom onto the rag rug that ran down the length of the hall and dropped to his knees, pulling her down with him.

Her throaty giggle just made him harder. “Right here?”

“First time right here,” he agreed, separating from her for just a brief moment, long enough to reach for the condom he’d stolen from her drawer. His other hand continued to roam over her body, his mouth kissing her pretty jaw and throat. “Next time, in the bed. Time after that, we’ll wing it.”

“Mmm,” she said in response, and he knew she approved of his plan. Her fingertips slid over his abdomen, feeling the wet muscles and sliding lower to grasp his cock.

Goddamn. He closed his eyes and groaned, bracing himself. He’d nearly lost it then and there.

“Need a condom.”

He tore the packet open with his teeth. “Got one.”

Dane slid between her knees and she wiggled on the rug below him, her breasts jiggling with that small movement. Beautiful sight. He leaned down and kissed one tip as he quickly rolled the condom on.

Her breath caught in a sexy little gasp. Fuck, he wanted to hear that all over again. Condom in place, he hauled one of her
legs up around his waist and slid a finger down through the heat of her pussy, seeking her entrance. Was she wet? Was he moving too fast?

Her gasps turned into soft cries and she pushed against his finger, raising her hips.

Not only was she wet, she was hot and slippery with need. Beautiful. He let his fingers graze her clit once before removing his hand, enjoying the little jump her body gave in response. Then he took his cock in hand, guided it to her opening, and slammed home.

Miranda gave a breathy little shriek, her eyes widening. Her hands found his shoulders and her nails dug in. “Oooh, that was good.”

“You like that?” he gritted out, doing his best not to fuck her right across this floor and spend himself in two seconds flat. He needed to make sure she came, or else he’d be as bad as those other pricks she’d dated.

“I did,” she said in a soft, breathy voice, lifting her other knee so her hips tilted up.

He circled his hips against her own, rocking deep inside her, and she moaned.

“Like that?” he murmured again, watching her head fall back with pleasure. “Want me to fuck you slow, baby, or fast and hard?”

“Fast and hard,” she whispered, her nails digging like claws into his back, her hips twitching under him.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. He drew back until he was almost out of her, then slammed home again, and was rewarded with her calves tensing against him, a slight flutter in
her pussy in response. The only sound she made was another sharp gasp.

“Like that?”

She nodded.

He thrust again. And then again. And again, until he was pumping her hard, his fingers digging into her hips to keep her anchored in place. Each thrust slammed into her, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long. She was covered in droplets falling from his skin, her body wet and slippery like his, and those breasts gleamed and bounced with each hard drive of his cock, and it just made him wilder with need. She gave a small moaning breath with each thrust, her eyes closed with pleasure, and she raised her hips to meet his thrusts almost violently, until he was afraid he was going to hurt her. She wasn’t hurting, though; her moans grew louder with every lift of her hips.

He felt his balls tighten, knew he was close, but she hadn’t come yet. Though it killed him, he slowed, circling his hips gently again, still embedded deep into her hot, tight passage. He needed to think about something else to pace himself. As always, when he needed to slow his orgasm, his thoughts went back to hockey. Drills. That was what he needed to think about. Think about passing. Better yet, passing in the offensive zone. That was what he needed to do. Pass to her—get her to come first. He slid a hand between them, searching for her clit.

When he found it, she nearly came off the floor. “Dane!”

That’s right, baby.
Now he was on the offense. He brushed her clit with his thumb, circling the wetness over it as she shuddered under him, crying out. Her nails were scratching the shit out of
him, but he didn’t care. He wanted her to come just as hard as he was about to. Patiently, he continued to circle it with the pad of his thumb, waiting for her to fall apart and then he’d finish claiming her. But first, she needed to score.

A tiny, keening whimper rose in her throat and she pushed against his thumb, harder and harder, and then froze. He felt her pussy flutter and clench around him, hard, as she began to come, and he continued rubbing, extending her orgasm. She continued to clench around him, her voice calling out his name in a broken, rasping half sob, and he lost his control. He shuddered, trying to think about hockey. His mind was full of visuals of sliding the puck home, like he was sliding his cock home inside her. With one final, hard thrust, he came, gritting his teeth against the yell of pleasure that threatened to erupt, emptying himself deep inside her even as she quivered and her pussy clenched around him in multiple aftershocks. He continued to move in her, slowly thrusting even as he came down from his orgasm, cock throbbing, blood pounding in his ears, and then he collapsed to the side of her, pulling her close in his arms.

They lay there for a long minute, neither one moving. Dane felt his heartbeat slowing, felt Miranda’s breathing returning to normal.