From behind her, he pressed a kiss against her bare shoulder and she could feel his erection against her jeans. His fingers tweaked her ni**les again, and her breath caught in response. “Dane,” she whispered. “God, do that again.”
“I’ll do even better,” he said against her neck. One hand grasping her full breast, his other slid down her belly and undid the button on her jeans. Her entire body tensed, tingles of excitement running through her. Was he going to touch her…there?
His fingertips slid into her panties, brushed the curls of her sex, and she let out a whimper of delight. Two seconds later, his fingertips slipped into her panties. One finger swept past the lips of her sex, grazed her clit. Oh yes. His hand squeezed her breast at the same time that he stroked her there, and her entire body stiffened, the anticipation of being in the closet with him rushing her toward an orgasm—
Click.
Miranda froze in place. Dane continued to finger her, biting at her shoulder, and she pulled away from him, sliding his hand out of her panties. “Did you hear that?”
His hands reached for her, brushed against her br**sts again. “Didn’t hear anything.”
“I thought I heard a noise,” she said softly, staring at the closet door. It was still shut, and the doorknob didn’t move. Overhead, the light flickered again. Nothing. Maybe she was imagining things. Paranoid at being caught. If she listened hard, she could hear her classmates giggling in the other room, waiting for them to emerge.
She started to protest, but he bit her shoulder and pleasure crashed over her, and she didn’t protest when his hand slid back into her panties once more.
* * *
Looking back, she had been so very, very dumb. She should have guessed that Dane would have hidden a camera in that damn closet. Should have guessed that he’d want all his buddies to see that he’d gotten into curvy Miranda Hill’s panties and made her writhe against his hand in a closet. She hadn’t blown him, either, but no one would believe that from looking at the photos.
And she should have guessed that he’d disappear as soon as the NHL came calling. Who was she to him? No one, it seemed, but a quickie in the closet.
TWO
After leaving Beth Ann’s salon, she headed over to her mother’s store, Hill Country Antiques. The store looked as ramshackle as ever, the wooden sign listing a bit too much on one side, windows dusty and full of clutter. Antiques stores came in different flavors—from austere and highbrow to cluttered and junky. Her mother’s store was definitely on the junky side. More thrift and yard sale than actual antiques, it was a cornucopia of bizarre odds and ends that nevertheless managed to bring in a decent income for her mother.
“Hi, hon,” her mother called when Miranda entered, the cowbell on the door clanging against the glass. “You’re just in time.”
“Oh? In time for what?”
“They had a storage unit sale over in Livingston, and Marilou picked up someone’s old unit for fifty bucks!” Her mother said, moving to the front of the store and sashaying past Miranda. She flipped the store sign to CLOSED. “I get to split everything in there with her, but we’ve got to clean it out before the end of the day. I could use an extra set of hands, too.”
“I can’t,” Miranda said with a grimace, gesturing at her car. “I need to stop by the library and pick up my last check. Sorry.” It was a bit of a white lie, but she really didn’t want to go and spend the day picking through someone else’s junk. The last time her mother had bought a storage unit, they’d found nothing but endless rows of comic-book boxes, their contents eaten by mice. “I’m about to head out of town for a week or so.”
“Out of town?” Her mother looked surprised. “Where are you going?”
“Oh, just checking some stuff out in Houston,” Miranda lied. “But I wanted to let you know that I’m not going to be answering my phone for a few days. I’ll swing by when I’m back, okay?”
“But—”
She froze, waiting. In the past, any small thing that interrupted her mother’s daily routine would be met with crying, anxiety, and comments about Miranda’s reputation about town. She’d had a nervous breakdown when the pictures had hit the Internet nine years ago, and it had taken a lot of time and patience and support to get her mother steady again. Now that things were going well, Miranda was getting out of Bluebonnet once and for all. She knew Tanya was having a hard time adjusting to the fact that her daughter was finally leaving the nest, and things had been fragile for the past few weeks.
“—who’s going to help me clean out the storage unit?”
Thank goodness. Miranda leaned in and kissed her mother on the cheek. “I’ll see if Beth Ann can send her little sister Lucy over. I’m sure she’ll help for a few bucks. Now, I’ve got to go, Mom. I’ll talk to you next week.”
“’Bye, hon,” her mother said absently as they went out to their separate cars.
Miranda got into her truck, waved at her mother, and backed out, heading toward the library. Well. That had gone better than she’d expected. She turned down Main Street and waited at the town’s only stoplight. Absently playing with her collar, she thought about her plans for this week. She’d need some camping clothing, should toss out the stuff in the fridge, maybe see if—
A car honked next to her.
Miranda glanced over, and immediately wished she hadn’t. Two men sat in the car, both a few years younger than her. She knew their families. Had seen them around town. Both were grinning at her in that way that told her they’d seen her half naked. Seen the photos.
“Hey, Boobs,” one called with a leer. “I’ve got an overdue library book. Wanna come to my house and get it?”
Next to him, the passenger began to pump his fist in front of his open mouth, mimicking a blow job.
Cheeks flaring with heat, she turned away, just in time to hear both men erupt in laughter. The light turned green and she floored the pedal, surging forward and down the street.
She couldn’t wait to be done with this town.
“Remember, Dane. Hands off the clientele.” Colt said the words with a grin and gave the game controller in his hands a twist, staring at the TV screen. “This is our make-or-break moment, and I need you to have your head in the game.”
“Thanks, coach,” Dane said sarcastically to his friend, stuffing a pair of spare socks into his bag. “Glad to have you riding my tail.”