Free The Girl's Guide to (Man)Hunting by Jessica Clare Page A

insulting move.
    Did he not find her attractive? Was that it? In high school, he’d been a flirt and had teased all the girls—including her. When he played hockey for the Vegas Flush, she’d heard all kinds of rumors about whom he was dating—London Harris, the sexy socialite who loved to be in the tabloids. Molly Sun, the starlet with the yellow curls and huge breasts. Susie Lynn Jacobs, the ingénue country singer. The list read like an issue of
People
’s Most Beautiful. And he was totally ignoring her.
    Miranda’s hand went to her collar and she grasped it, making sure that it didn’t gape open. Men flirted with her occasionally—at the library, at the county fair, when she’d gone for her job interview. Even Pete had shown interest. Why was Dane not interested? She was practically throwing herself at him.
    Well, she amended, “throwing herself at him” was relative. As she was not the best flirter in the world, she acknowledged that maybe she wasn’t doing enough to show her interest. Maybe hethought she was just being a tease? It was time to be totally straight with Dane and show him exactly what she wanted.
    Sucking in a deep breath, she got up from her lean-to and approached the men’s.
    They were bundled together like puppies—all neat and lined up, their feet hanging out of the shelter. She studied them for a minute, looking for a familiar form. Dane was on the far edge of the shelter, lying on his side. She approached and knelt beside him.
    All was silent in the camp, and Miranda inched closer to Dane, studying him as he slept. His shoulders seemed broader than ever from this angle, his hips narrow and tapered. She moved in and gave him a slight shake. Nothing. She frowned and slid her hand onto Dane’s pant leg, just above the knee.
    He didn’t stir.
    She grew bolder. Her hand moved to his groin. She cupped his cock in her hand and sighed at the warmth—and weight—there. Very nice.
    Dane stirred, and she felt him jerk awake. Felt him wake up below, too, just as she slid her hand away.
Count on a little late-night fondling to wake a man up,
she thought wryly.
    “Miranda?” he whispered in a strangled voice.
    “Dane,” she said, kneeling close and leaning low toward him. “Can I talk to you?”
    “Everything okay?”
    She waved for him to keep his voice down. “Yes. I just…want to talk. Away from camp.”
    He squinted up at her, then at the campsite. “We can talk in the morning,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Go back to sleep.”
    God, the man was obtuse. She was tempted to reach over andgrab his cock again, because that seemed to be the only thing he was listening to. “Dane, I need…” she paused for a minute, thinking. Then she lied, “I need your help. Something bit me.”
    His eyes flew open at that, and he stared up at her, then got to his feet. “Something bit you?” he whispered again. “Where?”
    Might as well go all in,
she thought. “In a personal spot.”
    Dane swore under his breath and then raked a hand over his closely trimmed hair. He reached into his backpack and grabbed one of the emergency flashlights and the first-aid kit, then gestured for her to follow him out of camp.
    When they got into the edge of the woods, out of the clearing and away from the camp, he clicked the flashlight on. “Now, show me where—”
    She rushed forward and put her hands over the flashlight, hiding the beam. Miranda glanced over where the others slept. No one had stirred—good. “Can you turn that off? I don’t want the others finding us.”
    He gave her an exasperated look. “How am I supposed to tell where you’ve been bitten if I can’t see it?”
    “I’ll show you,” she said. “You can feel it on my skin. Just, please. Don’t wake up the others.” If he did, her window of opportunity tonight was going to end up a big fat failure.
    A long moment ticked past, and then Dane sighed, clicked off the flashlight, and turned to her. “All right.”
    She could see the