Miranda’s laughter died in her throat, emerging as a low moan, her h*ps rising when his fingers brushed along the edge of her panties. Then he was sliding them down her thighs, and a moment later, he tossed them to the floor. His breath was warm on her stomach, and he leaned in to kiss her navel again, his tongue dipping in.
Her hands flexed over his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. God, she loved the feel of him over her, all hard muscles and delicious masculine scent. She’d miss wrapping her legs around him and feeling him sink deep inside her, miss the taste of his skin when he was slick with sweat from f**king her for so long…
A needy sound escaped her throat, and she tugged at his shoulders. “I want you inside me, Dane. Please.”
He moved up her body and loomed over her, leaning down to press a quick, hard kiss against her mouth. She pushed up against him, making the kiss urgent with need. She wanted to forget that this was all going to be over soon. That this might be one of her last moments with him. Her hands went to his cheeks and her tongue stroked deep in his mouth, her h*ps rising, and she felt the hard, hot length of him against her thigh.
He chuckled at her eagerness, moving to press hot kisses along her face, her nose, her chin. “I’m only going to be gone for a few days, Miranda. Then we can spend the next two in bed together.”
She shook her head, still pulling him against her with need. She couldn’t tell him why she felt this intense urge to have him deep inside her. He wouldn’t understand. “It’s going to be a long day,” she said. “Can’t I just miss you?”
Dane reached over her and grabbed a foil packet from the nightstand, then ripped open the package and rolled the condom on as she clung to him, kissing every inch of toned flesh that she could reach. A brief moment later, his h*ps settled between hers and she raised her legs, locking her ankles behind his back just as he surged deep into her.
Miranda cried out. Her hands tugged at him wildly. “God yes, like that.”
He gave a low growl deep in his throat and began to f**k her hard, each thrust pumping deep. “Miss you, too,” he breathed, leaning in for another hard, possessive kiss. He ended it with a slick thrust that seemed to almost reach her core. His tongue teased along the seam of her parted mouth, thrusting when he drove deep again. “Think about you the whole time. You in this bed, your dark hair all wild, in nothing but your tank top and panties, waiting for me to come home. Thinking about that vibrator and then thinking about you using it while thinking of me.”
Her p**sy clenched at his words.
“You like that?” He surged deep inside her again, then began to pump slowly, punctuating his harder thrusts with another searing kiss.
She clenched again, and was rewarded with a hiss of his breath—he’d felt the contraction of her muscles deep inside. “I love it when you touch me,” she said softly, gazing up into his green eyes, cloudy with lust. “Love it when you’re deep inside me, so hard.”
He stroked deep inside her again, and his mouth descended on hers, swallowing her soft words into another intense kiss. Her h*ps rose to meet his and they began to move in rhythm, her h*ps rising to meet each thrust, rocking together. Miranda’s nails dug into his skin and she began to whimper with each thrust, the intensity overtaking all rational thought. Her movements became jerky, jagged, and she lost the rhythm as her legs began to tense. He stroked deep and then circled his hips, and her breath choked as he grazed her G-spot deep within. Then he pushed deep, surging hard inside her, and held. His green eyes stared into her own, and she memorized his face in that moment, gleaming with sweat, the intense gaze framed with spiky, dark lashes. The stubble on his cheeks and chin, the curve of his mouth.
He was beautiful.
He rocked inside her again and she came, a low moan erupting from her throat. Her muscles quivered as the orgasm swept through her. She gasped with relief, curling her toes as he surged deep again. Then he was coming too, the cords in his neck standing out as his entire body shook with the force of his orgasm. Miranda watched him with fascination, memorizing the lines of his face in that vulnerable moment. She could watch him forever.
Dane leaned heavily over her, panting, and pulled her close for one last kiss. “Thank you.”
She gave him a breathy laugh and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him on top of her fully. The heavy weight of him atop her was a delicious feeling. “Why are you thanking me?”
He leaned in and kissed her nose. “Morning sex always takes the edge off the day. Now I don’t have to worry about those kids getting on my nerves. I can just go through the day in a daze of endorphins.”
Miranda laughed. When he tried to roll off of her, she shook her head and tugged him close again. “Not yet,” she said softly. “You have a few minutes before you have to leave, and I kind of want to hold on to you for a bit longer.”
He grinned down at her. “You do realize I’m only going overnight, right?”
A day, true. But she didn’t have many more days here. She avoided his gaze and ran a light finger over the muscles in his arms, tracing the veins. “Even that can seem like forever,” she said lightly. “Is it such a crime to like the feel of you over me?”
Dane gave her an intense look, all teasing leaving his gaze. The grin slid from his mouth, and she recognized the flare of desire in his eyes. “Not in my book.”
And with that, he rocked his hips, just a little. Enough to remind her that he was still seated deep inside her. And he was already hard again.
The breath caught in her throat and her gaze flew back to him.
“You said we had a few minutes yet, right?” He leaned in and kissed her, then tugged her lower lip into his mouth, sucking on it lightly for a moment before releasing it. “I think we should make the most of it.”
“I’m game,” she said lightly and pulled him closer. Sometimes, she thought she could stay in his arms forever.
After Dane left, she picked through some of the stuff in her house. She was restless, something vaguely nagging her. Guilt for her relationship with Dane? Beth Ann hadn’t been happy when they’d talked last, and she hated the thought of disappointing her best friend.
She picked up her phone to call and noticed her mother had called again, twice. No messages. Probably just checking in. She should stop by and visit her anyhow. She had a box of stuff to drop off, and it’d give her a chance to swing by the salon and visit Beth Ann. Talk for a bit, maybe explain that things weren’t the way they seemed.
Because really, they didn’t seem like wise decisions at the moment.
Miranda drove into town, parking her truck in front of her mother’s antiques store. The crooked sign wobbled in the breeze, and she sighed at the sight of it. Someday she’d have to pay to get that fixed. The inside of the store was quiet, and she found her mother sitting on a trunk, crying quietly in the back storage room.
“Mom?”
Her mother looked up as Miranda entered, and only cried harder.
Oh jeez. Her mother had always been a little fragile of spirit, and her crying jags could mean anything. Lately they had meant that she was sad Miranda was leaving for Houston, but they’d talked about this already. She tamped down the feeling of annoyance and sat next to her mom on the trunk, patting her back. “You okay, Mom? What’s bothering you?”
“Oh, Miranda,” her mom wept. “I don’t know how to tell you this. It’s just like before.”
“What’s like before?”
Her mother waved a dramatic hand in the air. “The rumors, the laughing. The staring. The people that come by to tell me what he’s doing to you.”
A cold pit started in Miranda’s stomach. Her mother was overreacting again. “You mean my dating Dane, Mom?”
Tanya hissed, as if the thought caused her pain. “Not dating. He’s using you,” she accused. “Just like before. He’s going to use you for sex and then post pictures of it all over the place to inflate his own sorry ego.”
Miranda flinched. “It’s not like that.”
“It’s not?” her mother said bitterly. “I looked. The pictures are still up. If he liked you so much, why are they still on the Internet for everyone to see?”
Miranda pursed her lips, hard, and continued to stroke her mother’s back. She’d always had to be the adult in their relationship, the one who assured her mom that everything was okay. Even still…her question made twisted sense, and Miranda didn’t like that. “It’s not like that—”
“No?” Her mother turned tear-bright eyes to Miranda, and her chin wobbled as she mopped at her cheeks with wadded-up Kleenex. “Then tell me how it is, Miranda Jane Hill. Does he take you out on the town? Buy you nice dinners?”
Well, no, they’d stayed at Miranda’s tiny house the entire time. “Mom—”
“Does he introduce you to his friends? Take you to his house?”
An uncomfortable feeling prickled through Miranda. She said nothing.
“Oh, baby,” her mother said in a sad, sad voice. “Did you forget how he treated you all those years ago?”
A knot burned in her throat and she stood. “I haven’t forgotten.”
The conversation with her mother had been disturbing in its accuracy—and at the same time, inaccuracy. Her mind was full of questions that she had no answers for. Was Dane using her? But she’d approached him, she’d been the one to declare their relationship a secret. It had been her idea for them to use each other for sex. It had been Dane that had said he was going to break the news to Colt and Grant, let them know he and Miranda were together. They’d taken it surprisingly well, given that Dane had been sleeping with a client. There’d been no fallout at all.
That bothered her a little.
Her head was full of questions that she had no answers to, and she needed to talk to someone. Instead of getting back in her car, she headed down the street to Beth Ann’s salon.
As she entered, another woman was leaving—Mary Ellen Greenwood. She gave Miranda a dismissive look as she entered, clutching her purse more tightly under her arm, as if Miranda’s presence might somehow contaminate her.
Miranda put a hand to the collar of her shirt and tugged it upward.
Beth Ann was sweeping hair in the main salon room and looked up as Miranda entered. “Hey, honey,” she said, her voice uncertain.
“My mom is crying,” she gestured down the street to the antiques store. “She thinks Dane’s using me.”
Beth Ann sighed and shook her head, continuing to sweep.
“Well?”
“Well what?” Beth Ann looked up, her expression grim. “Do you want me to tell you the truth, or do you want me to tell you what you want to hear?”
Ouch. Miranda stared at her. “I want you to tell me the truth, Beth Ann. You’re my best friend. If I can’t count on you, who can I count on?”
Beth Ann patted the barber’s chair. “Sit. I’ll tell you what I know.”
As Miranda sat down, Beth Ann swept a hot pink leopard cape over Miranda’s shoulders. “I went and visited Colt the other day…”