“Oh God,” she moaned. “Dane, please—”
“Please what?” he said in a husky voice. “Please tease it against your clit?” He rubbed the vibrating head against the hard, swollen little nub.
She jerked against his grasp but he held her pinned there, using the head of the vibrator with great precision, rubbing it back and forth against her clit. He was as hard as a rock watching her reaction. Her pleasure was so overwhelming that her eyes were closed, her mouth working in soft cry after cry.
And then she shattered, her legs clenching hard. He continued to rub the head of the vibrator against her clit, milking her reaction until her muscles loosened under him and she began to pant. “Oh, Dane,” she said in a husky, wondering voice that made his balls tighten with need. “Oh God.”
He rubbed the head of it through her labia, getting it good and slick, and then he sank the tip of it into her p**sy.
He felt her tense under his arm, felt the shiver building through her legs. Her moan rose again. When he sank the vibrating length in to the hilt, she cried out his name again. “Dane!”
“Do you like it, baby?” He twisted the vibrator inside her, rotating it in a circle like he would his c*ck if he were deep inside her. “Like it when I make you come?”
“Yes!”
He pulled it out, then thrust the slick length of it deep again, enjoying the way her body jerked in response to the thrust. He repeated the motion, then began to piston it slowly, letting it glide in and out between her wet p**sy lips, and leaned in to flick his tongue against her clit. She was so wet that she was soaking, and he lapped at the taste of her and was rewarded with another hard clench of her p**sy. Then another.
“I’m coming again,” she cried out, and her p**sy clenched hard against the vibrator. He continued to work it and she cried out, over and over. He kept thrusting it into her, and her cries turned into a shriek of his name as she spasmed hard with her orgasm.
Dane turned the vibrator off, breathing hard. He’d made her come so freaking hard and his own breathing was shallow and panting, his dick hard as a rock. He wanted to be deep inside her, wanted to be the one f**king her and making her shriek. Wanted to be the one she clenched around. He slid the vibrator out of her still-clenching p**sy and pulled his arm off of the backs of her thighs, trying to compose himself. He’d give her a moment, and then he’d finish what they’d started.
She was on him in a flash, rolling up on the bed and kissing him hard. Surprised, he kissed her back, and then hissed when she reached for his cock.
“Let me do you,” she said against his mouth, then tugged at his lower lip with her teeth.
“With the vibrator?”
She shook her head and gave him a naughty look, her face gleaming with a sheen of sweat. “The old-fashioned way.”
And she slid a hand down his chest and pushed him backward.
He went, his c*ck standing straight up in the air. As he watched, Miranda straddled him and went straight for his cock, her mouth suddenly sliding over the head and encasing it in warmth. Her warm hands grasped the shaft and then she sucked, hard, on the head.
Oh fuck, he was going to come if she did that again. “Miranda, baby,” he groaned. She only wiggled her ass and continued to swipe her tongue against his cock, licking the head and tasting the pr**um that beaded there, then taking him deep into her throat and pumping the base with her hands. His fingers were wrapped in her still-wet hair and he held her as she worked his cock, using her tongue in wicked little licks that made him want to come all over her face.
Then she got the naughtiest look of all on her face and pulled him deep into her throat, sucking hard. It was so f**king good he nearly saw stars. He almost missed when she switched on the vibrator and held it against his balls. A raw shock wave of pleasure coursed through his body.
Then he was exploding, shooting hot jets of cum down her throat and yelling, f**king her mouth even as he came, and she continued to rub the vibrator against his sac, working her mouth over his c*ck and getting every last ounce of cum from him.
When he collapsed back on the bed again, she sat up and licked her lips, giving him the most satisfied expression.
“Damn,” he panted, grinning up at her. “I think I need another shower.”
She smiled and moved up to kiss him. “In a minute,” she said. “I just want to touch you for a while without my head exploding in another orgasm.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“Hell no.”
He grinned, pulled her into his arms, and tucked her close, trapping her leg in between his.
No way was he letting Miranda Hill get away again. She was amazing. She was wild in bed, and hot as hell.
And she was all f**king his.
FIFTEEN
One Week Later
Beth Ann dropped by Miranda’s place after she closed her salon. Usually when Miranda had a day off, she’d stop in to chitchat, and Beth Ann would trim her ends, give her a manicure.
But the salon had been strangely quiet this week, and Beth Ann’s suspicions were roused.
She’d called Miranda a few times, and her friend had seemed cheery but distracted. “You busy moving?” Beth Ann had asked her, and Miranda had said she was. But Miranda had the week off, and she hadn’t stopped in to say hello or hang out. Fine way to treat a friend when you were moving away for good.
So she brought a roll of contact paper with her to work that day, and when Miranda didn’t drop by the salon, she went to Miranda instead, toting her present as an excuse.
Miranda had a small, neat little cottage on a quiet street. Tall pecan trees littered the yard, and her tiny rental house was older, but charming. Beth Ann had half a mind to take the lease off of Miranda’s hands when she left—anything would beat another month living at home with her parents until Allan got his act together…
She sighed. She needed to stop thinking that way. Allan wasn’t getting his act together, and she wasn’t getting together with him ever again. That was her mother planting ideas in her head.
She swung the screen door open and knocked on the wooden door. Silence. Beth Ann glanced in the window—lights were on. She leaned in close to the door. A murmur of voices, and then a scramble to get to the door.
Annoyed, Beth Ann hit the doorbell.
The door swung open quickly, and a flushed Miranda answered, pushing strands of her hair out of her face. “Hey, girl,” she exclaimed in greeting. “What are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d help you pack,” Beth Ann drawled, not fooled for a second. Miranda’s shirt was untucked, the zipper on her jeans was down. Her feet were bare.
Yeah. Beth Ann wasn’t dumb. She shoved the contact paper roll into Miranda’s hands and pushed her way inside. “Since you’re so busy packing, I thought I’d come and help you finish,” she said. “Brought you some contact paper for the new place.”
The house was just as she suspected—boxes lay scattered in the room but nothing seemed to be put in them. In fact, if she looked hard, it almost seemed as if there was less stuff in them than the last time she’d been over. Beth Ann whirled, tapping one pink fingernail on her chin.
“You didn’t have to do this, Beth Ann,” Miranda said awkwardly. “I’m almost done with the packing.”
Beth Ann turned to look back at her friend, hurt. “You are a terrible liar.”
There was a sound in the bedroom, and Miranda stiffened. A dreadful feeling began to rise in the pit of Beth Ann’s stomach. Before Miranda could stop her, Beth Ann moved to the bedroom door and pushed it open.
A large man sat on the edge of the bed, sliding on his shoes. He wore no shirt over his bronzed, rippling muscles, and he looked up at the sight of her in the bedroom door.
“Hi,” said her best friend’s worst enemy. “Beth Ann, you haven’t changed.”
“Neither have you,” she said through clenched teeth, and shut the door in his face. She turned and gave Miranda a look of disappointment, and then walked right back out of the house.
Miranda followed her out. “Beth Ann! It’s not what you think—”
“Really?” she snapped, angry and afraid for her friend all at once. “Because I’m thinking he’s moved in.”
“Don’t be silly,” Miranda scoffed. “We’ve only been seeing each other for the last week.”
Beth Ann crossed her arms over her chest. “And how many times has he slept at his place in the last week?”
Silence.
Beth Ann gave her friend an exasperated look. “Really?”
To her credit, Miranda blushed. “I know what you’re thinking—”
Beth Ann whipped out her cell phone. “That I should just take the picture of your tits and post it on the Internet right now so we can get this over with?”
Miranda flinched, and immediately Beth Ann felt like a jerk. She sighed and moved to hug Miranda.
“I’m sorry, girl,” Beth Ann said.
“You’re just worried about me,” Miranda said in a soft voice. “I know.”
“He hurt you so badly,” Beth Ann said, and hated the knot rising in her throat. “Humiliated you in front of everyone and broke your heart. I know what that feels like, too.”
“Of course you do,” Miranda said soothingly, and patted Beth Ann on the back. “But this is…this is different, Beth Ann.” Her face flushed with pleasure, and her pretty brown eyes gleamed. “He’s not the guy I thought he was. He’s different. You just have to trust me.”
“Oh, honey,” Beth Ann said, and gave her best friend another squeeze on the arm. “Of course I trust you.”
It was that low-life fink Dane Croft that she didn’t trust.
She and Miranda chatted for a moment longer on the porch, and then Beth Ann made up an excuse about having to go back to the salon to make sure she’d unplugged everything.
Miranda looked uncomfortable. “You sure you don’t want to stay for a few? I made some sweet tea.”
She shook her head and managed a cheerful smile. “Gotta run, but thanks for asking. I’ll stop by tomorrow and help you pack for real.” She gave her friend a stern look. “No excuses.”
“No excuses,” Miranda said with a smile.
Beth Ann moved back out to her small, sea green Volkswagen Bug and started the car. But instead of turning back toward Main Street, she got on the highway and headed outside of town, toward the Daughtry Ranch.
She’d find out on her own if Dane Croft was playing games this time. If Miranda wasn’t worried…Beth Ann would be worried for her. One of them needed to be ready, and Beth Ann wanted to be prepared for the worst.
Beth Ann parked her car in front of the Daughtry Ranch. There was a gravel parking lot and a scatter of cabins, but other than that, it really didn’t look like much. In the distance, she could see a long barn, but it looked deserted. Beth Ann got out of the car, gripped her keys, and headed for the big ranch house. A sign hung above the door, proudly proclaiming WILDERNESS SURVIVAL EXPEDITIONS, and a plastic pamphlet case nailed to the porch wall was stuffed full of brochures.