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 h*ps 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 p**syfooting 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, 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 c*ck 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 c*ck 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 p**sy.