The Girl's Guide to (Man)Hunting

by Jessica Clare

  Was Miranda fired up, then? Practically every time she saw him alone, she attacked him. The woman had a killer libido.

  Still, he wasn’t looking this gift horse in the mouth. His arms wrapped around her and his hands settled on her waist, then he grasped her ass and pulled her in closer. His tongue thrust back against hers, a willing partner.

  Her kiss broke off with a low growl, and she stared up at him in the moonlight for a long moment. Then she said, “I started this, Dane. And I’m going to be the one to finish it. Understand me?”

  What the hell was she talking about? “Not really,” he said with a half grin. “Care to explain?”

  “No,” she said. “We’re going to do this by my rules.” And she pulled him in for another searing kiss. Her hands went to the front of his shorts.

  His cock jumped. “You want to do this right now?”

  She gave him another wicked smile. “Are you chicken?”

  “Hell no,” he said, and pulled her in for another searing kiss. He wanted to kiss that smirky little smile off her face, get her expression to change from the almost-angry intensity to softness. To watch her mouth part and hear those soft little noises she made in her throat when he touched her. So Dane continued to kiss her, his tongue licking into her mouth.

  Her hand slid over his cock in his shorts, rubbing the length of him in a way that made his entire body flare with need. He groaned against her mouth, trapping her hand just as she brushed her fingertips over his sac. “You’re a little wild today, aren’t you?”

  She grinned against his mouth, and then ran her tongue over his lower lip. “I’ve heard you have a thing for wild, Mr. Croft.”

  Did he ever. Miranda’s flirty freight train of lust was driving him insane. When her fingers squeezed his sac again, he groaned and pulled her against him, turning so her back was cradled against his stomach. His hands pinned her hips against his, and he leaned in and whispered against her ear. “How would you like it if I turned the tables on you, Miss Wild?”

  “Why, I thought you’d never ask,” she purred.

  Dane’s hand skimmed over her breasts. Her nipples were hard little pricks under her T-shirt, and he coaxed each one with a gentle brush of his fingers. She inhaled sharply, and he leaned in and kissed the side of her neck, which was slightly damp with sweat. He loved it when she was sweaty, her skin slightly dewy with exertion. When she arched into his hand, he teased her nipple a moment more before skimming lower. His hand went to the waistband of her shorts, and then he skimmed his fingers along the edge of the fabric, teasing her.

  Miranda wriggled in his arms, as if anxious for his touch. Her hand curved backward, stroking the short burr of his hair. “Are you going to touch me or not?”

  He nipped at the side of her neck. “Depends on how badly you need it.”

  Her other hand slid between them and he felt it brush against the hard length of his cock again. “Seems like I’m not the only one who needs it bad,” she teased. “You’re as hard as iron back here.”

  Dane groaned at her touch. “I am.”

  She slithered out of his arms and turned toward him with a mischievous look on her face. “I can help you with that.”

  “Can you, now?”

  She dropped to her knees, tugging down his pants and freeing his cock from his boxers. A second later, she was taking him in her mouth and her hot, wet tongue stroked the underside of his cock, along the thick vein there. He shuddered hard, his hand going to her hair. He should tell her to stop, should take control again, pull her back in his arms, and tease the ever-loving hell out of those pretty nipples. But then Miranda’s hand stroked his sac as she lapped at the head of his cock, looking up at him with a teasing glint in her eyes.

  And he pretty much forgot everything.

  When she took him deep in her throat and began to hum, he groaned and began to thrust into her mouth. He was building fast and hard, and he wasn’t going to last long. Miranda seemed to know this, encouraging it with her fingers dancing across his sac.

  “Miranda,” he gritted out. “Might want to pull away if—”

  She bore down on him, pulling him deep into her throat and humming louder. The vibration of her vocal cords made his entire cock feel like it was bathed in sensation.

  He came, shooting hot cum down the back of her throat. She continued to stroke his sac, fondling him as he came down from the short, violent orgasm. When he finished, she looked up at him with a very naughty expression and wiped the corners of her mouth. “Not much staying power, I’m afraid.”

  Minx. He hitched his shorts back up and, when she stood, snagged her in his arms. “Not so fast. Turnabout is fair play.” His hands went to her shorts and he began to unbutton them.

  She stiffened in his arms for a moment, then relaxed and helped him slide them down her legs. Her panties quickly followed after them, he tugged her against him and slid to his knees, burying his mouth in her wet pussy. She gasped in shock and then her fingers curled in his hair, her body shuddering as his tongue darted into the slit of her pussy and stroked her clit.

  He wanted to make her come as fast and as hard as he had. One hand stole between her buttocks and he ran his fingers along the seam of her sex, then plunged a finger into her wet core. His tongue continued to flick and suck against her clit, relentless and determined.

  Miranda shivered against him, and then he heard her breath choke in her throat, and her fingernails dug into his scalp, rough, and she came in a wet, salty rush against his tongue.

  He gave her clit one last, satisfying lick, savoring the taste, and then looked up at her and grinned. “Not much staying power?”

  She gave him a dazed laugh, the tension in her face gone. “Guess not.”

  For the next two days, they didn’t have a chance to sneak in any alone time. It was starting to make Miranda antsy—each time they’d sneak off into the woods, someone would follow them. They hadn’t been able to do more than steal a kiss or two, and Miranda was starting to feel anxious. It was going to be tricky to keep Dane interested if they couldn’t have sex, after all. So she did her best to cast him longing glances and let her fingers linger on him when she had the chance. Not that she had to try hard to look at him longingly—she couldn’t wait to have sex again.

  Day six was designated as team-building and team exercises. Brenna showed up again on her ATV and brought more props, and they had obstacle races and puzzles that couldn’t be solved without the help of all team members. There were challenges and the prize of the reward camp again.

  Their team lost. By the time they got back to their last designated camp and restarted their fire, they were exhausted and curled up in their respective shelters. Miranda didn’t approach Dane that night at all, remembering what Pete had said about her snuggling up to Dane over and over again. Yet another night of enforced celibacy. Miranda went to bed hoping that Dane was starting to feel just as sexually frustrated as she was.

  The final day dawned rainy and wet, and with it came an odd sense of anxiousness on Miranda’s part. This was the last chance—her chance to “hook” Dane Croft. She wasn’t ready, she thought as they broke down the camp as the rain trickled over them, the skies gray and the ground underneath their feet slushy and wet.

  Once the campsite was pristine once more, Dane gathered them all together. “You’ve all learned a lot this week, and I’m proud of you. You have one more task to go—I’m going to send you out in the wilderness on your own until tomorrow, and we’ll see how you do.”

  Miranda crossed her arms, watching Dane as he gave them a pep talk about the final day. She knew what it would be about—they’d go out, make a shelter, build a fire, catch some dinner, show off their skills, and then go home with a blue ribbon. She’d had different plans for this day earlier in the week—seduce Dane at her little campsite and take pictures of him, naked. But her camera had been confiscated and she’d been sleeping with the object of her revenge all week.

  And she liked it. And him. And she
didn’t know what to think about that. She could still implement the revenge plot, of course. Tease him, invite him to her camp, and then she’d find out if she’d hooked Dane enough for her to put the next phase of her revenge into action. Otherwise, this was all for nothing.

  Not nothing, she amended with a flush, thinking of all the times she’d gone boneless with ecstasy in his arms this week. If anything, this crazy little revenge-slash-experiment had proven something very important to her: that she was sexual after all, and the problem wasn’t on her end. That made her feel immense relief. If she could have an orgasm with her nemesis, she could surely have one with a regular boyfriend.

  Strangely, the thought of archenemies and revenge was making her uncomfortable. She shifted on her feet and hugged her arms close, only half paying attention to the lecture Dane was giving them. The others were eating it up, but she didn’t plan on showing off her skills. She planned on getting Dane alone and seducing him. He’d shown her knots two days ago and as he’d demonstrated the appropriate knots to use for trapping, her nipples had gone hard for reasons that had nothing to do with trapping. Something about the way he’d pulled the rope taut and held it out to her had made her instantly wet.

  He’d noticed it, too, the heated look returning to his own eyes. But all he’d done was pass her the rope and say nothing more.

  She knew he was conflicted—that Colt and Grant would eat him alive if they’d found out what the two of them were up to. The thought left her with uneasy guilt, and she pushed it aside. Guilt was for the weak, and she was finally going to take what she wanted even if she had to step all over the man she was sleeping with to do so. Too bad he was so distracting. She thought of his naked body, gleaming in the moonlight, all hard muscles and that amazing little dip at his hip that she always wanted to run her tongue along—

  “Here you go, Miranda,” Dane said, appearing before her. She blinked up and automatically took the items he handed to her. It was a tiny bundle with a tightly wrapped piece of plastic-covered paper and what looked like a wristband of some kind.

  She raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Were you listening to what I was saying?” he said patiently.

  “Um, sort of,” she said with a half smile. “Refresher?”

  He chuckled and took the wristband from her, pulling her arm out and snapping it around her wrist. “That’s so I can find you if you get lost.” He handed her the plastic-covered piece of paper. “That’s your map. You’re going to be at camp six tonight. You need to find it and set up. I’ll swing by later to check on you.”

  “Oh, of course,” she said hastily. “Sorry. I thought you were talking about something else. Camp six. Yep. Got it.” God, she was babbling. “Thanks.”

  They stared at each other for a moment, and then he gestured at the forest with a lazy smile. “You going to go or stick around here all day?”

  Oh! She looked around but sure enough, almost everyone else had shouldered their packs and was heading into the woods. She looked back at Dane, then the woods. “Are you going to, um…find me?”

  He looked at her very calmly, then seemed to scan the woods, as if she’d asked him about directions instead of a rendezvous. A quick glance showed that Pete was hanging around camp, obviously waiting to talk to her. Sigh. Steve immediately broke off from the others and began to jog into the forest, eager to start out on his own. The others were just as eager. Not Pete. He wanted to wait for his new BFF Miranda, it seemed.

  So much for inviting Dane to her campsite tonight. She glanced over at him. “You know where I’ll be,” she said in a soft voice that she hoped was inviting. “I’ll skip the panties.”

  And with that, she turned and walked out of camp, heading for the trees, armed with her tiny map. Camp six was across two creeks and over a hill—quite a hike for her. That was okay; in the last week she’d found she enjoyed hiking quite a bit.

  Pete hung behind for a minute, and when Miranda moved forward, he showed her his map. “I’m at camp three, Miranda. Where are you at?”

  God, he was annoying. In the last week of spending every day with the man, she’d learned to appreciate not having him in her life. He was bothersome as hell and didn’t seem to realize it. He was also clingy and tried to go with her everywhere.

  “I’m at six,” she replied after a moment, thanking the powers that be for the extra campsites between theirs. She didn’t want to be his neighbor.

  He looked crestfallen at the thought. “Camp six is all the way on the far edge of the map.”

  “That sucks,” she lied. It really didn’t suck much at all. Had Dane given her the most private campsite on purpose? Was he going to meet her tonight?

  Pete gestured at the woods. “You want to walk the same way until we hit the creek?”

  This would be the last time she’d have to deal with his aggravating self, at least. So she plastered a cheerful smile on her face and didn’t even look back at Dane. “Sure thing, Pete.”

  TWELVE

  S

  he ditched Pete on the far side of the stream. He’d offered to follow her to her campsite and help her with setting up, but she’d been a little affronted that he thought she needed his unasked-for help and had chased him off with a few cheerful encouragements that he should set up his own camp. She was glad he was gone, though. Pete was just underfoot too much, was too eager, too chatty, too everything. He was a nice guy—cute in a geeky sort of way and well off, but her mind was laser-focused on Dane. The silence left behind by Pete’s departure was pleasing. Without him in her ear making small talk, she was able to relax and enjoy the day. She’d given up on stressing over Dane. If he showed up tonight, great. If he didn’t, well. If she couldn’t keep him interested long enough for phase two of her revenge plan, then it wasn’t meant to be.

  Picking up a piece of firewood, she frowned to herself at the thought.

  Jeez, where had the laissez-faire attitude come from? She’d come out here to destroy a man in the most cutthroat manner. She was blatantly using him for her own ends. When had she gone from “Destroy Dane and everything he touches” to “Oh well, it is what it is”? That wouldn’t do at all.

  She stopped for a minute, picturing the photos on that horrible cheap website with “Casanova” flashing in some poorly animated gif. The looks she got in town. The snickers. The awkward conversations at the town get-togethers. Her mother’s total mental breakdown. The old familiar pain began to burn in her belly, filling her with an angry reminder of what she was doing here.

  She was here to destroy a man. So she’d ended up sleeping with him. It didn’t mean that she had to change course. And it didn’t mean that she had to have feelings for the man. She didn’t.

  She wouldn’t.

  She couldn’t.

  Scowling to herself at the traitorous thoughts, she scooped up a few likely branches as she walked. Her camp was easy to find—there was a nice clear spot with a small red flag stuck into the ground. The creek was a short distance away, the trees were tall, and the area was secluded. Nice. She set down her wood, her pack, and set to work. The first task for the day would be a fire. Once she had it going, she could begin the next task—a shelter. That would be a bigger project, as she needed to make it big enough for two. Just in case. Food was last on the priority list, since it would probably involve leaving camp, and she wanted to stick around, just in case Dane showed up.

  When he showed up, she amended. He’d said he’d come by to check how her “survival day” was coming along. No sign of him yet, she thought as she laid the wood in a pile for her fire, but it was early.

  After an hour’s hard work she’d produced a fire with a spindle and bow and was oddly pleased she was able to do so. You couldn’t make a fire every time with rubbing sticks, but she’d been able to do it today, and that was a nice feat. Wouldn’t Dane be impressed? She fed it more kindling to build the flame, and when it was nice and healthy, she added a few small logs to the fire. Then she set to work on her lean-to. Sh
e took her time, the task requiring a lot of work, a lot of trekking back and forth, and tending the fire.

  First she had to build the A-frame and lash it together. When it was solid, she made a lattice of small branches on one side to form the windbreak, and then continued to stack tree branches on it, shoving dirt high against the bottom edge to ensure that nothing could crawl under. Then she worked on laying some soft pine branches as a bed, and spread her spare hooded sweatshirt down over the branches. After that was done, she stood up and wiped her brow, exhausted and surprised at how much the tasks had taken out of her.

  There was still so much to do—she had to catch dinner or go foraging, boil water for her canteen, gather more wood for the fire…She eyed the creek, then eyed the sun, low in the sky. She’d do that stuff after she had a nice rinse off. If Dane showed up—when, she corrected herself—she didn’t want to be sweaty and exhausted. She wanted to be fresh and sexy.

  She stripped and took a quick dip in the stream, letting the water refresh her spirits and ease her aching muscles. She quickly dressed in her last pair of cute, clean panties and her last bra—a delicate pink set edged with black lace, just enough to make it girlish with a naughty side. A quick glance around camp told her that food wasn’t going to magically spring forth, so she sighed and grabbed a stick that would make a likely fishing pole. The creek had had a few deeper, slower-moving areas with overhanging branches, which were the perfect spots for fish to hide. She would have the best luck there.

  She fished for two hours (with frequent trips back to her campsite to check on her banked fire) but by the time the sun was going down, she’d caught nothing. Well, she’d eat tomorrow.

  It didn’t matter, really. She could survive on her own—she had fire, a shelter, and she could eat some grasses and nuts. She had water to drink, and a fire to boil it over. She was set. She wondered if the other students had had as much success as she had.