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.
Then she gave a low, throaty chuckle. “Are we going to cuddle in the hallway?”
He leaned in and kissed her shoulder. “Would you rather cuddle in the kitchen?”
She smiled, her eyes still closed, the blissfully dreamy expression on her face. “I was thinking more along the lines of the bedroom, but hey.”
Dane grinned at that, thinking of the bright blue vibrator she’d had in there. “We can go to the bedroom.”
She untangled herself from him and stood, moving back into the bathroom and grabbing fresh towels. “I should probably clean this water up first.”
“Leave it,” he said, then turned away and disposed of his condom. “Come on.”
Taking her hand in his, he tugged her back into the bedroom and down onto the bed. They were still wet from the shower, but he didn’t care and he suspected she didn’t either. Her dark, glossy wet hair flew across the blankets and she grinned up at him. “You don’t look like you’re in a cuddling mood.”
“No? How do I look?”
She ran a finger over one pectoral, outlining it. “Predatory,” she said, the sound a sigh of delight. “Like you want to capture me and eat me.”
“While that sounds delicious, I have other plans for you tonight,” he said, and waggled his eyebrows at her.
She gave him a curious look, a smile curving her lips. “Oh?”
He loved looking down at her, soft and warm and curvy under him. Dane grinned. Was it possible to fall in love in a week? He wasn’t a romantic, but there was something about being with Miranda that made him feel whole, centered.
He liked it. And he liked her. And while the timing wasn’t ideal, he loved being with her, and he was going to keep being with her. Colt and Grant would just have to adjust.
He wouldn’t tell her that just yet, though. Getting all sappy and yakking about feelings with a chick after a week would probably make any sensible woman run like the wind.
He teased her belly button with one finger, toying with the dip. “How much do you trust me?”
The look that Miranda gave him was immediately wary. “Why?”
Well, damn. His playful mood deflated in an instant. She looked almost frantic with worry, her body tensing under him. What was going through her head right now? “In bed,” he clarified. “How much do you trust me in bed?”
“Oh.” Her fear dissipated so abruptly that it stunned him. “Of course I trust you in bed.”
Well, what the fuck was all that about? Why was she so terrified of trusting him? Had she been burned in the past and that was why she flinched every time trust came up? A fierce, possessive surge swept through him. Whatever bastard had hurt her, he was going to find the man and take him apart, piece by piece. Miranda was a funny, loving, sexual, incredible woman, even if she didn’t think she was.
All he had to do was prove it to her. And if that took three weeks or three years, he was up to it.
“So you trust me?” he repeated. “Trust me to bring you pleasure?”
She nodded at him, her brown eyes soft and sexy. “Of course.”
“Trust me to make you come so hard your toes will curl?”
She grinned and wiggled her toes at him in response. “Every time.”
He reached over her and opened the nightstand drawer, then pulled out the bright blue vibrator. “Enough to let me use this on you?”
Her playful look froze on her face, and then she blushed—not the delicate, charming usual blush—fiery red. “Dane!” Her outraged expression was delightful to see. “You’re not supposed to know about that.”
“Not supposed to know about what?” he teased, pulling it out of the drawer and examining it with great thought. She reached for it, but he continued to hold it out of her reach. “I had to dig for condoms earlier, and I saw this. Hope that’s all right.”
“It’s just embarrassing, that’s all,” she said in a hushed voice, and then reached for it again. “Give it back. I don’t need it when I have you anyhow.”
“My sweet, darlin’ Miz Hill,” he drawled, and winked down at her. “Now that’s where you’re wrong. I think there’s plenty of room in this bed for the three of us.”
Her blush gave way to confusion. “You want to use my vibrator?”
Dane grinned. “Maybe some other night you can use it on me. I’m more interested in using it on you and watching you come again.”
The crimson returned to her cheeks.
He moved up on the bed and kissed her lips. She was pliant underneath him, and he detected a slight tremble of her body—in excitement or uncertainty?
“I won’t do it if you don’t want me to, Miranda,” he murmured against her lips. “Not if you’re embarrassed.”
“A little,” she said.
“What embarrasses you about it?”
She thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess when we have sex, we’re in it together so I’m not thinking too much about you staring at me or watching my reactions. But with this…”
He chuckled and slid a knuckle over the soft swell of one breast, enjoying how her nipple tightened under his touch. “You think I’m not going to participate here? That it won’t turn me on?”
“Kind of silly, huh?”
“Very silly,” he agreed. “Hell, I got turned on just watching you make fire when we were on the trip.”
“Must have been because I was handling all that wood,” she teased, lightly skimming her fingers over his arms. Then she looked over at him and bit her lip. “It’s okay,” she said after a moment. “I want to do this. I trust you, remember?”
He felt like he’d been given a gift. Miranda trusted him to take her out of her comfort zone, and he wouldn’t disappoint her. Dane kissed her again, nibbling and sucking at her lower lip. When she gave a low moan in her throat and her arms slid around his neck, he slipped from her grasp and began to move down her body, kissing a path. Her chin. Her collarbones. Her breastbone. He lingered at the twin mounds of her breasts, so lovely and full. He nuzzled each nipple and made
them stand erect, leaving the tips wet and gleaming and Miranda squirming and panting under him. Farther down, he kissed her belly button and noticed that her body was beginning to quiver with tension. A good sort of tension, he hoped. When he got to her mound and pressed a kiss there, she didn’t make a sound. He glanced up and saw her dark eyes watching him, biting her lip as if she were afraid to show him her reactions.
Well now, that wouldn’t do at all. She was thinking too much again.
Dane sat up and slapped her thigh lightly. “Pull up your knees, baby.”
She frowned at him, and slowly did as she was told, pulling her knees close to her breasts.
“Hug them to you,” he said. “Lock your hands behind them and don’t release until I tell you to.”
He watched the blush return, and she pulled her knees in tighter, her head tilted to the side. Now she could no longer see what he was up to, and he’d have the freedom to work her over like he wanted to.
She was lovely like this, her legs pulled back, displaying long, lean thighs pressed together tightly. Between them, the dark strip of her pussy and the wet gleam of the folds there. She looked so delicious that he leaned in and brushed his tongue over the wetness, tasting the salty flavor of her.
She shuddered underneath him, her breath catching in her throat. Now, that was more like it.
With one finger, he parted her pussy lips and slid his finger back and forth, making sure she was juicy and wet. She was—her core was hot and slick, and he rubbed the slippery wetness up and down through her labia. She whimpered every time he touched her clit, but he didn’t linger there.
“Soft and pretty. And so very wet. Are you excited about me using the vibrator on you?”
The tremble swept over her again, and her pussy clenched when he dipped a finger deep into her core. He teased it deep, then slid it back out again, and waited for her response.
“Y-yes,” she finally allowed. “It feels…naughty.”
“Well, I happen to love a naughty girl,” he said, and rewarded her with another thrust of his finger. She jerked her hips in response, but she seemed tense, waiting for something. He knew what it was.
He clicked on the vibrator, and she seemed to almost vibrate with need herself. He didn’t insert it—not just yet. He wanted her to anticipate it for a minute more. Instead, he continued to let his finger circle the heat of her core, then glided it through the wetness back up to her clit, as if he had all the time in the world. All the while, she made soft whimpering noises and her legs tightened and flexed, over and over again, her thigh muscles working repeatedly. It was beautiful to watch.
Miranda’s vibrator was a long, smooth blue column, the head slightly flared and curved to brush against her G-spot. It shivered in his hand, and he spread her pussy lips and laid the vibrating head of it against her clit.
Miranda nearly came off the bed. A cry escaped her throat and she clenched, hard. “Keep your legs up,” he reminded her, and placed his own arm over hers to keep her stationary.
“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 pussy.
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 cock 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 pussy 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 pussy. Then another.
“I’m coming again,” she cried out, and her pussy 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 fucking her and making her shriek. Wanted to be the one she clenched around. He slid the vibrator out of her still-clenching pussy 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 cock 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 pre-cum 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 fucking 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, fucking her mouth even as he came, and she continued to rub the vibrator against his sac, working her mouth over his cock 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 fucking his.
FIFTEEN
One Week Later
B
eth 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.
The Girl's Guide to (Man)Hunting Page 22
